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!  "' i"*^ 


, 


Q^i4/6i>c^i^et:^^  ^^,'w4k><Jt^ap^  (9bition. 


**NtMa  turn  doitanda  louru  is  that  Building  :  you  could  not  — 
Placing  New  York's  map  before  you — Hgbt  on  half  so  queer  a  spot." 


^Uch<^  9lo.  1493 
"Em  W^ovaaxOi  ffLikti  on  a  Bicgcle" 


fWU. 


^l^od  tfuvb^  to  me  ^ 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES       ^ 
ON  A  BICYCLE 


By  KARL  KRON  p*^*-^]  ■ 

AuTHOs  OF  "Four  Years  at  Yalb,  by  ▲  GraiwKJb  of  5)C/I        ' 


MAIUED    BT    TRR    rt'BLUHBB    OB    RBCRIPT    OP    MONKT-ORDKB   FOB  TWO    DOLLARS 
PATABLB  AT  STATION  D. 


PUBLISHED   BY   KARL  KRON 

THE  UNIVERSITY  BUILDING,  WASHINGTON  SQUARE 

NEW  YORK 

1887  -•*-     \^' 


THE  NEW  YORK 
PUBLIC  LIBRARY 

ASTOF,  LENOX  AND 

TILDEN  FOUNDATIONS 

R  1927  L 


NIEMORY 


Mn  BitlUHSdtg 


(thb  very  best  dog  whose  presence  ever  blessed  this  planet) 


THESE  RECORDS  OF  TRAVELS 


WHICH    WOULD    HAVE    BROKEN    HIS    HEART 


HAD    HE    EVER    LIVED    TO 


READ    ABOUT 


ARE  LOVINGLY  INSCRIBED 


CoiirrigbUd,  1884. 
.1  lf»^ai^Fuuu^:\: 


MMotMluraA.  188|.r, 
1^  tiw  BrsmapiBUi  Puniaa  Ooa»«H?, 


Assumptions  for  a  special 
class  of  travelers. 


PREKACE. 

-  .  I  Thb  is  a  book  of  America»  roads,  for  men  who  travel  on  the  bicycle.  Its 
Scope  of  the\  j^^^  .^  ^^^  ^^  ^  gaxetteer,  a  dictionary,  a  cydopsedia,  a  sUtistical  guide,  a 
volum€,  I  thesaurus  of  facts.  The  elaborateness  of  its  indexing  shows  that  it  is  designed 
teas  for  reading  than  for  reference,— less  for  amusement  than  for  instruction,— and  debars  any  one 
from  objeaing  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  ooce,  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  moJt  compact  form.  I  have  accounted  no  fact  too  trivial  for  record,  if  it  could  conceiv- 
ahiy  help  or  interest  wheelmen  when  touring  in  the  locality  to  which  it  relates ;  and  I  insist  that 
no  critic,  save  one  whose  road^xperience  makes  him  more  compeunt  than  I  am  to  predict  what 
nch  tooristt  want  to  know,  has  any  right  to  censure  me  on  this  account,  as  "  lacking  a  sense  of 
penpective."  My  power  to  please  these  particular  people,  by  oflEering  them  these  microscopic 
details,  can  be  proved  by  experiment  only  ;  but  I  object  in  advance  to  having  any  one  meanwhile 
misrepresent  me  as  endeavoring  to  please  people  in  general.  "  The  general  reader  |'  may  justly 
demaod  of  the  critic  that  he  give  warning  against  a  writer-of-travels,  as  well  as  against  a  novel- 
ktorvene-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  gaietteer.—and  who 
ifisdaims  any  desire  of  restricting  its  scope  to  points  which  are  salient  and  notably  significant 
and  universally  interesting,— nuy  as  justly  demand  of  the  critic  that  he  do  not  condemn  the 
work  "  because  unsuiied  to  the  geperal  reader." 

Fairwamingsfor'Uhe\  ^.^"^S*'?*  ^^^  latter  all-powerful  personage.  I  recognize  that 

f         f     it  ^w  money  is  as  good  as  anybody's  " ;  and  I  mtend,  madentally, 

general  reader.         |  ^^  ^jj  ^^^  ^  ^^^^  ^^^^  ^p.^^  ^^  ^^^  j^j^ .  ^^^  j  ^^  y^^^  ^yoX, 

he  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 
tfaoae  readers  who  inhalnt  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  him  his  money's  worth.  As  regards  "  the  genera] 
reader,"  then,  I  say :  "  Cavtai  emptor !  Having  paid  up,  let  hun  shut  up !  If  I  welcome 
him  to  my  show,  it  is  avowedly  ios  no  other  reason  than  that  his  coin  may  help  fill  the  yawning 
diasm  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>wiIl ;  but,  if  his  ill-will  be  aroused  instead,  I  protest  against  his  proclaiming  it  in  such  way 
as  to  obscure  this  truth:  that  what  I  chiefly  aim  to  win  is  the  good-will  of  the  3000  wheelmen 
who  hxn  subscribed  to  my  scheme  in  advance,  and  of  the  300,000  wheelmen  whom  those  sub- 

*'  Well-written  and  readable  beyond  the  common  "  was  the  verdict 
which  the  reviewer  of  the  Times  passed  upon  my  opening  chapter,  when 
it  first  appeared,  in  a  magarine,  four  years  ago ;  but  I  have  not  en- 


Attempts  at  verbal 
attractiveness. 


deavored  to  make  any  of  my  regular  touring  reports  "  readable/'  to  the  uninitiated,  save  only 


An  autobiography  be- 
tween the  lines. 


vi  TEN  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 
eliminated.  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  powef 
to  reflexively  exhibit  the  reporter's  habits  and  character.  As  regards  myself,  this  tnith  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  ar« 
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, — "pour  encourager  Us  asdres  ";  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  this  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. 


Praise  tiot  sought  for^ 
but  money. 


Unique  power  of  the  cy- 
cling- 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  upon  the  utter  impossibility  of  any  other 
unknown  enthusiast's  persuading  3000  strangers  to  each  "  pat  up  a  dollar,"  out  of  mere  senti- 
mental regard  for  any  other  sport. 


7TU  selling  afyxfloo  hooks 
less  notabU  than  Uupled^ 
ing^  o/2poo  subscribers. 


Business  necessity  of  my 
fersotuU  revelations. 


PREFACE.  vii 

Henoe  I  say  that  my  longest  tour  on  the  wheel  shrinks 
into  insignificance  beside  this  novel  tour  deforce^ — 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  the  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 ;  bnt  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  docs  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 
hnnian  animal's  indisposition  to  pledge  money  for  anything  unknown,  my  scheme  for  selling 
3o,ocn  books,  by  a  simple  appeal  to  the  friendly  sentiment  of  3000  strangers,  is  really  so  unbusi- 
ness-like  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  plialanx  of  supporters 
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  cycling,  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.  70Z-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  piupose.  If  I  am  to  sell  30,000  books  without  resorting  to  the  book- 
stores,— without  granting  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 
book  have  been  spent  solely  in  their  interest, — that  I  have  construaed  it  with  absolute  personal 
independcnoe  and  honesty : 

"  My  motives  pure;  my  satire  free  from  gall ;  chief  of  my  golden  rules  I  this  install : 
*  Malice  temard*  none,  and  charity  for  all. '  " 

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  amply  that  the  original  act  of  writing  has  extended  from  '79  to  '86,  but  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 
ooodensad  forms  of  expression.  The  proportion  of  fine  type,  too,  has  been  vastly  increased,  and 
the  iodexe*  of  names  have  been  unpleasantly  "  jammed,"  in  a  similar  effort  to  reduce  the  bulk. 
Even  "  Mr."  has  been  banished,  as  not  worth  its  room.    By  two  personal  readings  of  the  proofs, 


Typography  and 
proofreading. 


X  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

V.  FOUR  SEASONS  ON  A  FORTY-SIX,  84-«4 :  My  broken  elbow  as  a  coracr- 
stone  for  the  League,  24.  First  riding-lesson,  in  Boston,  35.  Early  exploration  of  New  York 
roads,  a6.  First  toar  almost  coincident  with  "A  Wheel  Around  the  Hub,"  36.  Summaries  of 
mibage(74am.  in '79)>  27;  (1474  m.  in '80),  aS ;  (1956  m.  in '80,29;  (1837  m.  in  '83),  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  IVheetmanj  Feb.,  '83  ;  reprinted  by  Wheel  World,  of  London.) 

VI.  COLUMBIA,  NO.  234,  86-48 :  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.  Vain  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  Wheelman,  Mar.,  '83  ;  second 
half,  from  S^ingjield  Wheelmen's  GaaetU,  Apr.,  '84 ;  reprinted  by  Wheel  World,  July,  84.) 

VII.  MY  234  RIDES  ON  "NO.  234,"  49-«8:  Triolet  for  peace-offering.  49.  Daily 
averages,  49.  First  long  rides,  50.  List  of  50  m.  records  in  '8x,  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.,  '^3  ;  verses  reprinted  by  Wheeling,  July  29,  '85.) 

VIII.  AROUND  NEW-YORK,  64-100:  Tojiography  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.  Morningside  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  Wkeelmen^s  Gnzette,  Bi.  World  and 
Wheel.  Many  corrections  of  and  additions  to  the  forecoing  were  written  in  Dec,  '86,  for  the 
"summary,"  on  pp.  582-6.     See  also  pp.  150-8,  165-6,  i6S.  246-7,  770-5.) 

IX.  OUT  FROM  BOSTON,  101-114:  To  Portsmouth  and  back,  101-2.  T^xington, 
Wahham,  Worcester  and  Springfield,  103-4.  Pemberton  Square,  the  hotels,  club-houses  and 
other  landmarks,  104-6.  Streets  of  the  Back  Bay  district,  106.  Route  to  Rhode  IsUind,  107. 
Newport  rides,  xo8.  Providence  to  Worcester,  109.  Springfield  to  Boston,  iio-ii.  Road- 
books and  maps,  112-13.     Day's  runs  of  100  m.  straightaway,  113-14.    (Electro,  in  May,  '85; 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS,  xi 

9600  words,  incL  3600  of  fine  type.     First  part,  from  Bi.  Worldf  Aug.  26,  '81,  and  May  2a,  '85. 
See  also  pp.  114,  20S,  246,  579,  766-7.) 

X.  THE  ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD,  115-128^:  General  advantages  as  a 
riding-disirict,  116.  Eastward  routes,  117.  Northward  routes,  118.  Excursions  from  North- 
ampton, 119.  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, 
X2S.  (Electro,  in  May,  '85  ;  9600  words,  incl.  3600  in  fine  type.  First  part,  from  H^'keeimaHf 
bee,  '83.     See  "  summary  "  of  *86,  pp.  579-80 ;  also  pp.  144-8,  179-831  193-4,  208,  251-4, 768.) 

XI.  SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT,  129-149:  The  Thames  and 
its  tributaries,  129.  Experiences  as  boat-race  manager  at  New  London,  130.  Along  the  shore, 
N.  L.  to  New  Haven,  131-a.  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, 
m8.  Dr.  Tyler's  long  run,  149.  (Electro,  in  May,  '85;  14,400  words,  ind.  4290  in  fine  type. 
First  part,  from  Springfield  U'hetbneH^s  Gazette^  J«ne,  '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,  160-168:  Greenport  to  River- 
hcadand  the  south  shore,  150.  North  shore  route,  151.  Flushing  to  Vaphank  and  back  in 
*8t,  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,  ind.  2700  in  fine  tjpe.  From  Bi.  IVorld^  Nov.  26,  '80 ;  May  20,  '81 ;  Mar.  24  and  July 
28,  '82.     See  pp.  84,  86-92,  97,  583-6.) 

XIII.  COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS,  169-178:  Notable  map  by  the 
State  Geological  Survey,  159,  175-6.  Triangular  outlines  of  the  Orange  riding-district,  160. 
Coasting,  161-2.  Morristown  and  the  Delaware  Water  Gap,  163-4,  173.  Peterson,  Hackensack 
and  Ft.  Lee,  165-8.  Elizabeth  and  New  Brunswick,  167,  172.  Newark  northward  to  New- 
burg,  169-71.  "Z,  &  S."  tour  to  Greenwood  Lake,  170.  Somerville,  Trenton  and  Philadelphia, 
172-3.  Tow-path  from  Easton  to  HackettstowUj  173.  Basaltic  columns  of  Orange  Mtn.,  174-5. 
Maps  and  guides,  174-S.  "  League  Road-book  of  Pa.  and  N.  J.,"  177-8.  (Electro,  in  June, 
'85;  13,250  words,  incl.  4850  in  fine  type.  First  part,  from  the  Wheelman^  June,  '83.  Sec 
"summary  "  of  Dec,  '86,  pp.  583,  5S8-9;  also  pp.  80-85,  207,  776-8.) 

XIT.  LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON,  179-198:  Hartford  to  Springfield, 
179-81.  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,  198'  Ten  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,  1 98.  The  Wallkill  and  Ramapo  valleys,  198.  (Electro, 
in  Jnne,  '85 ;  13,250  words,  incl.  4850  in  fine  type.  First  part,  from  Bi.  Worlds  Oct.  7,  Nov. 
II,  '81.     See  pp.  74,  81,  586-7.) 

XV.  THE  ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE,  199-208  :  Initiation  on  the  tow-path 
at  Schenectady,  199.  Tlie  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  Gapand  across  New  Jersey,  207.  W.  H.  Butler's  ride,  Saratoga  to  Olean,  208.  (Electro. 
in  June,'85  ;  6450  words,  incl.  1350  of  fine  type.     From  Bi.  World,  May  27,  June  3,  10,  17,  '81,) 

XTI.  NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS,  209-228 :  Uiica  to 
Trenton  Falls,  209-10.  Suggestions  for  the  Adirondacks,  210-11.  Syracuse  to  Seneca  Falls, 
312.  Geneva  I^ke  to  Avon  Springs,  213.  The  Genesee  valley  and  the  falls  at  Portage,  213-14, 
217.  Reports  from  Niagara,  215.  "  Big  Foir"  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..  Coming  to  Binghamton,  218-19.  Along  the  Susquehanna,  Towanda  to  Wilkcs- 
barre,  219-20.  Weather,  hotels  and  baggagemen  of  this  400  m.  tour,  221.  Abstract  of  "  West- 
em  New- York  Rmd-Book,"  221-^.  (Electro,  in  June,  '85;  10,800  words,  ind.  5400  of  fine 
tj-pc.     From  the  Wkeelman,  Jan.  '83.    See  pp.  586-8.) 


xiv  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  noble  "  Valley  pike  "  to  Staunton,  344-6.  Topography  of  the  Shenandoah  region,  frono  G. 
E.  Pond's  "  Campaigns  of  1864,"  346-S.  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  the  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  in  "  The  Campaigns  of  the  Civil  War,"  352.  (Electro, 
in  Nov.,  '85;  14,200  words,  iocL  6500  of  fine  type.  First  part,  from  SpringJUld  Wkeelnui^t 
GaMtite,  Dec,  *85.     See  pp.  29^308,  374-90,  486,  495-8,  578,  590.) 

XXT.  THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA,  863  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,  35S. 
Sunset  and  moonlight  along  the  North  road  to  St.  George's,  35).  The  South  road,  360.  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  Cuslcm  House,  368-9.  My  ccmi  anion 
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,  inch  29cx>  of  fine  type.  From  Springjletd  iVhtel- 
metCs  Gazette^  Jan.,  '85,  except  the  last  3  pp.  from  OHiing,  Mar.,  'S5  ;  reprinted  in  Tricycling 
Jourrutlt  of  London,  and  Australian  Cycling  Sews.  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.) 

XXVI.  BULL  RUN,  LURAY  CAVERN  AND  GETTYSBURG,  871-380:  An  '84 
tour,  inspired  by  my  hope  of  seeing  "  one  good  jjarade  of  the  League,"  371.  Through  Philadel- 
phia and  Delaware,  372.  Stuck  in  the  Marj-land  mud,  373.  (iood  riding  from  the  Susquehanna 
to  Baltimore  and  Ellicott  City,  373.  By  ClarksvIUe  pike  to  Wa&liington,  373-4.  Fairfax  Court 
House  and  Centerville,  374.  Across  the  BuQ  Run  battle-fields  to  Warrenton,  375.  Washing- 
ton's environs,  as  reported  by  W.  F.  Grossman,  376b  Baltimore's  suburban  routes,  377. 
Springfield  clerks*  tour,  New  York  to  Washington,  377.  Susquehanna  tow-path,  Havre-de- 
Grace  to  Columbia,  378.  My  muddy  advance  from  Warrenton  and  passage  of  the  Rappahan- 
nock, 378-9.  Sweet  strawberries  at  Sperryville  before  1  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  Natur.il  Bridge,  3S1-2.  Over  the  Massanutten, 
381-2.  Broiled  frogs'  legs  at  Mt.  Jackson,  383.  Down  the  Shenandoah  to  Harper's  Ferry,  3S3-4. 
From  the  Antietam  to  Gettysburg,  384-5.  Sunday  morning's  reflections  in  the  National  Ccme> 
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  tlie  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.  Firet  part,  from  Spring/ield  fVfutlmen'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.) 

XXTII.  BONE-SHAKER  DAYS,  891-406:  How  the  Wonderful  Year,  '•1869," 
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  sidewalk  vision-of-beauty  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  fonns 
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,  39S-9.  The  »*/?  Lit.  Magazine's  care^ful 
chronicle  of  the  three  months  which  marked  the  rise,  decline  and  fall  of  vclocipcding  at  New 
Haven,  400-2.    Other  testimony,  from  Goddard's  scrappy  book  and  the  newspapers  of  '69, 402-4 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  xv 

(see  also  p.  390X  Post-coDegiate  reminiscences  of  the  Pickering,  404-5*  My  final  trial  of  the 
bone-shaker,  in  '7a,  at  the  Crystal  Palace  dog-show,  405.  Narrow  chance  by  which  I  failed  of 
"imponing  the  first  rubber-tired  bicycle  into  the  United  States,"  when  1  came  home  from  En- 
gland in  April  of  '76,  406.  (Electro,  in  Aug.,  '85 ;  10,700  words,  ind.  3900  of  fine  tyi>e.  First 
half  from  S^g/tiL  WketlmeH^s  GnzetU,  Sept.,  '85 ;  last  half  from  i^heel  H^or^ii,  of  London, 
Oct.,  '85  ;  reprinted  also  by  Tricycling  Journal,  Dec.  23,  30,  '85  ;  Austraiian  Cycling  News ^ 
Jan.  a, '86.     Issued  as  a  pamphlet,  lobo  copies,  for  the  attraction  of  subscribers,  Nov.  12,  '85.) 

XXYIII.  CURL,  THE  BEST  OF  BULb-DOGS,  407-425 ;  Origin,  characteristics 
azid  environment,  407.  The  gentlest  of  hearts  beneath  a  fierce  exterior,  40S.  Personal  appear- 
ances and  "  points,"  409.  (General  impression  made  upon  strangers,  as  portrayed  by  the  poet 
of  Puckf  409.  Leaping  through  the  window-glass,  with  the  cry  of  "  Out !  damned  Spot !  " 
4fa  Relations  with  Black  Jack,  ostensible  and  secret,  410-11.  The  garden  fence  as  a  pre- 
tended barrier  for  bravery,  411.  Verses  of  honor  for  "the  outside  dog  in  the  fight,"  41a. 
Ruffianism  towards  a  pair  of  canine  weaklings,  412.  Ears  sensitive  to  bell-ringing,  413.  The 
btal  faadnatioD  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  swrimming,  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  fly-catcher  and  candy- 
eater,  418.  Victorious  over  the  woodchuck  but  vanquished  by  the  bumble-bees,  418.  Abashed 
by  the  elephant,  418.  The  wicked  flea,  419.  "Circling"  as  a  conventional  diversion,  419. 
Religioiis  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  '6t,  422.  Rare  lapses  from  virtue's  path,  422.  Health  and  strength  impaired 
by  poisoo,  422.  Dislike  of  mirrors  and  bed-chambers,  423.  Outward  signs  of  seeing  phantasms 
and  visions  in  sleep,  423.  Deliberaieocss  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,  4as>  Dead,  at  the  post  of  honor,  425.  (Electro,  in  July,  '85  ;  rt,ooo 
words,  ind.  325  of  fine  type.  Written,  July  27  to  Aug.  2,  '84,  and  rejected  by  all  the  magazine 
editors.  A  spedal  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,  4S6-472:  Rarity  of 
"  character  "  in  buildings,  426.  Chances  for  self-suppression  in  London  and  New  York  com- 
pared, 436-7.  The  only  two  modem  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  Howdls,  427-8.  Lightness  of  "  social  pressure  "  in  the  most- 
seduded  Building  of  the  least-csnsorious  city  on  the  globe,  428.  Description  of  it,  as  "  Chrysalis 
College,**  in  Theodore  Winthrop's  novel  of  1861,  428^^  Report  by  T.  R.  Aldrich,  in  1866,  430. 
Three  other  accounts,  in  18S0,  431.  History  of  Washington  Square,  with  Henry  James's  sym- 
pathetic picture  of  it  as  "  the  most  delectable,"  432.  The  Nation^  accurate  description  of  the 
Square,  io  1878,  433-  Its  corner-stone  laid  in  1833  and  its  chances  of  endowment  destroyed  by 
the  business  panic  of  '37,  433-4.  Pictures  and  statistics  of  the  Building,  in  various  standard 
works,  434.  A  more  massive  and  imposing  collegiate  pile  than  had  previously  been  known  in 
the  Western  Worid,  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  dty  which  is  called  a 
university  by  its  friends,  436.  No  hope  of  prcal  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,  418.  Difficulty  of  espionage  by  day,  and  isolation  of 
the  janitor  by  night,  438.    A  peculiarity  which  made  plausible  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,  445-8.  Testimony  of  Hamerton,  Borrow  and  Kadal,  44^7'  The 
latter's  showing  why  *'  society  "  cannot  exist  in  America,  44S-9.  Relentlessness  of  servants' 
tyranny  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,  451-2.  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  ihe  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  ihe  simple  savager>'  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,  462,  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.  Hamerlon'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  between  the  Building  and  the  Bicycle,  472. 
Poem  by  Robert  Herrick,  472.  (Electro,  in  Sept.,  '85;  31,700  words,  incl.  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,  478-501 :  Thomas  Stevens 
and  his  8000  m.  trail,  of  1884-5,  ^'^^^  California  to  Persia,  473-4  (see  also  pp.  570-a,  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,  489-91.  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  'S6). 
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,  incl.  only  250  of  coarse  type.  Stevens's  ride  to  Boston,  pp.  473-So,  was  printed 
in  Wheelmen's  Gazette^  Jan.,  '87  ;  and  the  rest  of  the  story,  pp.  480-4,  570-2,  in  Feb.  issue.) 

XXXI.  STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS,  502-580:  Difficuhy  of  persuad- 
ing men  to  prepare  perronal  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 
5.1°.  588).  J.  W.  Smith's  tabulation  of  20,000  m.,  July,  '80,  to  Dec,  '85,  509.  R.  D.  Mead,  509-10. 
N.  P.  Tyler,  510-11.  H.  W.  Williams.  511-12.  S.  H.  Day,  512-13.  T.  Midgley,  513-15.  W. 
L.  Perham,  515.  T.  Rothe,  515-16.  A.  S.  Parsons,  516-17.  W.  Farrington,  517-18.  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 

H.  Goodnow's  soS^ta-t  5^7-  J-  Resmolds  and  wife,  528.  W.  E.  Hicks*8  4679  m.  m  a  news- 
gatherer  in  '85,  s^S^  J.  W.  Bell's  long  stay  in  saddle,  529.  F.  P.  Symonds,  529.  J.  V. 
Stephenson,  529-3a  L.  B.  Graves,  F.  A.  Elwell,  A.  B.  Harkman,  W.  T.  Willianu  and  E.  P. 
Bamham,  53a  Tri.  record  of  yiM  m.  in  '8j.  by  three  merry  wives  of  Orange,  530.  (Electro, 
in  Jan.,  '86;  25,500  words,  ind.  only  850  of  coarse  type.  Pp.  501-7,  from  Springjuld  H'htel- 
rntmU  Gazette,  Mar.,  '86.) 

XXXII.  BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS,  681-672  :  Request  that  English 
press-men  show  fair-play  towards  my  foreign  contributors,  531.  E.  Tegetmeier,  a  London 
jovnafist,  reports  10,053  m.  covered  in  '83,  and  46,600  m.  in  13  years,  531-3.  H.  R.  Reynolds, 
jr.,  an  Oxford  graduate  of  *8o  and  a  lawyer,  rides  55,930  m.  in  9  years,  chiefiy  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,  ukes  a  19  days'  tour  of  2054  9.,  535-7.  J.  W.  M.  Brown,  a 
Lincolnshire  fanner,  rolls  up  53,343  m.  in  a  decade,  537-8.  H.  J.  Jones,  of  the  Haverstock  C. 
C,  coven  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  sucoessive  Sunday  rides,  540-1.  R.  P.  Hampton  Roberts's  16,060  m.  of  wheeling 
in  7  ycfus,  tabulated  by  months  and  supplemented  by  other  mileage  records  of  the  Belsize  B.  C, 
541-3.  Reporu  from  H.  T.  Wharlow,  23,325  m.  in  6J  years;  C.  W.  Brown,  '7,043  m.  in  4 
years;  and  W.  Binns,  a  Salford  draper,  22,147  "*•  in  ^\  years,  543.  Monthly  table  of  12  years' 
ri«*i«»Kf  40,3  «9  "»•»  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  m.  in  '8s-'84,  544-5-  "Average  accounts  "  from  F.  W.  Brock,  of  Bristol,  and  G.  H. 
Rosbworth,  of  Bradford,  545.  Inexpensive  1 100  m.  tour  in  '85  of  a  Glasgow  University  grad- 
uate, Hugh  Callan,  who  won  the  Tit'Btis  prize  of  $250  in  '86,  for  best  story  of  cyding  experi- 
ences, amd  who  intends  to  print  a  book  about  them,  545-6.  Diary  for  a  decade,  14,107  m.,  of  an 
Irish  country  gentleman,  Wm.  Bowles,  546.  H.  Etherington,  projector  and  proprietor  of 
WkeeliHg^  546-8  (see  also  689-90).  H,  Sturmey,  editor  of  the  Cyclist,  548-9  (see  also  690-2).  A. 
M.  Bolton,  author  of  "  Over  the  Pyrenees,"  549.  C.  Howard  and  R.  £.  Phillips,  compilers  of 
raote-hooks,  55a  G.  L.  Bridgman,  S.  Golder  and  G.  T.  Stevens,  551.  Tour  in  '83,  London  to 
Pesth,  of  Ivan  Zmertych,  a  young  Magyar,  551.  Hugo  Barthol's  drcuit  of  2750  m.,  June  8  to 
Atig.  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  cros»-country  wheeling  by  G.  P.  Mills,  556-8.  Daniel's  long  tri. 
ride  in  France,  558.  AUSTRALASIAN  REPORTS,  668-570!  Day's  rides  of  room,  in 
Victoria,  558-9.  Tours  of  the  Melbourne  B.  C,  '79  to  '84,  560.  Tours  by  Adelaide  and  Bal- 
larat  dob-men,  '84  and  '85,  560-1.  W.  Hume's  circuit  of  530  m.  in  '83  and  straightaway  of 
583  m.,  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  Ballarat  and  Stawell,  56a.  G.  R.  Broadbent,  a  grandfather,  wheels  17,600  m. 
in  3  years,  56a.  R.  O.  Bishop's  3  years'  record  of  13,352  m.  in  Victoria  and  Tasmania,  563. 
Milage  of  T.  F.  Hallam,  P.  J.  Bowen,  and  other  riders  of  Hobart,  563-4,  J.  Copland's  '84 
tri.  tour  of  13S2  m.,  Sydney  to  Melbourne  and  back,  564.5.  S.  to  M.  bi.  rides  by  A.  Edwards, 
G.  L.  Budds  and  J.  F.  Rugg,  565-6.  The  longest  straightaway  trail  in  Australia,  670  ro., 
Stswdl  to  Sydney,  made  in  Mar.,  '86,  by  M.  Thomfeldt  and  C.  H.  Lyne,  565-6.  New 
Zealand**  advantages  for  cycling,  566-7,  570  (see  also  652).  J.  F.  Norris's  account  of  242  m. 
lour  in  *iz,  and  of  100  m.  riders  in  '84,  567.  J.  Fitton's  700  ro.  tour  at  the  dose  of  '83,  567-8. 
Long  rides  from  CHiristchurch-  by  H.  J.  Jenkins  and  F.  W.  Painter,  568-9.  W.  H.  Lang- 
down's  13  months'  record  of  8940  m.  on  a  single  bicycle,  including  a  tour  of  558  m.  in  the 
aatomn  of  ^85,  569-70.  Guide-books  f6r  the  Antipodes,  570  (see  also  695-6).  Conclusion  of  T. 
Stevens's  roond-the-world  tour  :  Persia,  Afghanistan,  India,  China  and  Japan,  Mar.  to  Dec, 
*^%  5y<«-    (Pp.  530-53  were  ejectrotyped  in  Feb.,  '86;  pp.  554-69  in  Nov. ;  pp.  570-a  in  Jaa., 


XX  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Oct.,6s— 2013  ;  Nov.,  82 — 2095;  Dec,  177 — 2272;  Jan.,  1 12 — 2384;  Feb.,  113 — 2497;  Mar., 
149—2646;  Apr.,  139 — 2787;  May,  loi — 2888;  June,  87 — 2975;  July,  128 — 3103;  Aug.,  46 — 
3149;  Sept.,  43— 319a;  Oct.,  37— 3229;  Nov.,  35— 3264;  Dec,  54— 33 '8;  Jan.,  39— 3357; 
Feb.,  25—3382  ;  Mar.,  36—3418 ;  Apr.,  108—3526.  From  May  i  to  Dec  31,  *86,  there  were  50 
accessions,  at  $1.50,  raising  the  total  of  the  "autograph  edition  "  to  3576.  (Electro,  in  Feb., 
*86 ;  about  19,000  words.     See  pp.  794-6,  for  supplementary  list  of  aoo  names.) 

Xl.  DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN,  765-799:  Names  of  3200  subscribers, 
grouped  according  to  residence-towns,  which  are  alphabetized  by  States,  in  the  following  geo- 
graphical order  :  Me.,  15  towns,  45  subscribers,  765  ;  N.  H.,  14  t.,  50  s.,  766 ;  Vt.,  14  t.,  47  s., 
766;  Mass.,  89  t.,  341  s.,  766;  R.  I.,  5  t.,2os.,  769;  Ct.,  32  t.,  171  s.,  769;  N.  Y.,  106  t,  67c 
%  ,  770;  N.  J.,  55  t.,  257  s.,  776;  Pa.,  96  t.,  38a  8.,  778;  Del.,  2  t.,  4  s.,  781 ;  Md.,  8  t.,  81  a., 
781 ;  Dlst.  of  Col,  2  t,  37  s.,  782  ;  W.  Va.,  4  t.,  6  s.,  782  ;  Va.,  10 1.,  x^  s.,  78a  ;  N.  C,  a  t., 
6  s.,  782  ;  S.  C,  2  t.,  4  s.,  7S2  ;  Ga.,  4  t.,  ti  s.,  782 ;  Fla.,  2  t.,  2  s.,  783  ;  Ala.,  4 1.,  12  s.,  783  ; 
Miss.,  3  t.,  4  s.,  783  ;  La.,  t  t.,  5  s.,  783  ;  Tex.,  6  t,  9  s.,  783  ;  Ark.,  2  t.,  7  s.,  783  ;  Tenn.,  3  t., 
26  8.,  783  ;  Ky.,  15  t.,  53  8.,  783  ;  O.,  48  t.,  154  s.,  784  ;  Mich.,  21  t.,  66  s.,  785 ;  Ind.,  21  t.,  60 
».,  785  ;  m.,  25  t.,  116  s.,  786-7 ;  Mo.,  8  t.,  25  s.,  787  ;  la.,  14  t.,  20  s.,  787 ;  Wis.,  tt  t.,  16  a., 
787;  Minn.,  13  t.,  22  s.,  787;  Dak.,  3  t.,  5  s.,  788;  Neb.,  2  t.,  2  s.,  788;  Kan.,  14  t.,  21  s.,  788: 
(Ind.  Ter.,  o);  N.  Mex.,  i  t.,  i  s.,  788 ;  Col.,  4  t,  9  s.,  788 ;  Wy.,  3  t.,  9  s.,  788  ;  Mon..  3  t., 
6  8.,  788 ;  Id.,  2  t.,  14  s.,  788 ;  Wash.,  3  t.,  3  s.,  788 ;  Or.,  8  t.,  28  s.,  788;  Utah,  2  t.,  7  a.,  788 ; 
(Nev.,  ot.,os,,789);  Ariz.,  i  t.,  t  s,,  789;  Cat.,  9 1.,  2a  s.,  789;  Ontario,  ax  t.,  79  s.,  789;  Mani- 
toba, It,  I  8.,  790 ;  Quebec,  i  t.,  5  s.,  790 ;  New  Brunswick,  2  t.,  6  s.,  790;  Nova  Scotia,  9 1., 
37  8.,  790;  Bermuda,  3  t.,  5  s.,  790;  Mexico,  1 1.,  i  s.,  790;  England,  61  t.,  138  s.,  790;  Scot- 
land, 6 1.,  12  8.,  792  ;  Ireland,  5  t.,  7  s.,  792 ;  Continental  Europe,  9 1.,  9  s.,  792 ;  Asia,  4  t., 
4  s.,  792  ;  Australia,  12  t.,  86  s.,  793  ;  New  Zealand,  5  t.,  24  s.,  794.  Supptetntntary  List  0/ 
SMbscrihets  (Feb.  to  Nov.,  '86),  794-6.  Trade  Directory:  Alphabetical  list  of  122  subscribers 
in  whose  offices  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  LAST  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  arc  in  fine  type  (**  nonpareil  **)  and  223,000  in  larger  type  ("brevier  **).  I  have  esti- 
mated the  latter  at  600  words  to  the  page  (44  lines  of  14  words  each),  and  the  nonpareil  at  900 
words  .to  the  page  (53  lines  of  17  words  each),  except  that  the  66  pages  devoted  to  sulncribefs' 
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  pant- 
graphs,  are  fully  offset  by  the  repetitions  of  chapter-titles  at  the  tops  pf  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  actnal  count  of  p.  3  58  revealed  only 
573-  My  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  ftrat  29  chapters  (472  pp.),  all  but  92,600  are  in  brevier;  while, 
of  the  27S>Soo  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  indnded  in 
the  x8t,ooo  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.  473-590) 
are  104,850  words,  almost  wholly  given  to  others'  perronal  statistics ;  and  Chaps.  34-37  (pp;  591- 
699)  contain  97,550  words  of  general  information.  Of  the  273,^00  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  i8r,ooo  before  specified,  gives  a  total  of  217,200  words  which  refer 
m  acme  way  to  my  own  wheeling.  Even  if  the  r  1,000  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  248,200  words,  which  is  much  less  than  half  its  text  (585,400). 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Chaptbk-Titlss  are  printed  in  small  capitals  aVid  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  importauce,  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. 


AbbrevlatloitB  of  iha  U.  S.,  with  index  for 
each  Slate,  hriii. 

Abstinence  from  fire-water  and  tobacco,  Cases 
of,  62.  128,  532,  537,  544- 

Accidents  {see  "  Incidents  '*). 

Address-list  of  28,000  American  cyclers,  661. 

Advertising,  Exclusion  of  from  book,  for  sake 
ctf  impartiality,  714;  specimens  of  calendars 
and  catalogues,  679 ;  rates  in  cycling  papers, 
656,  696.    {See  "  Free  advertising.") 

Aftkr  Bksii  (Teises),  15. 

Agriculture  as  a  basis  of  prosperity,  301. 

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

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

"Amsteniism '*  as  defined  by  L.  A.  W., 
6»4,  633  ;  by  A.  C.  U.,  63a  ;  by  C.  W.  A., 
635 ;  by  N.  C.  U.,  638.  Folly  of  attempted 
aodal  distinctions  in  racing,  shown  by 
Wketimg  and  J.  R.  Hogg,  628.  Expul- 
sion  of  all  the  swift  racing  men  as  social  in- 
feriors, 629, 649.  Supporters  of  the  scheme 
satirized  by  the  London  Baij  6jo. 

"American  CyeUsti*  Union"  (A.  C.  t7.)t 
62S-33  :  Advent  of,  as  a  refuge  for  the 
League's  expelled  "  amateurs,"  631.  Con- 
stitution, officers  and  government,  631. 
Definitions  of  social  standing,  632.  Scheme 
for  an  "  international  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. 
i  Artists  and  ilinstrations,  258,  268,  270,  271, 

a79.  366,  39«>*>,  397,  407,  656-60,  662,  665- 
7S.  679*>»  683-93- 

A«iA,  T.  Stevens's  ride  across,  480-3,  570-2. 

Asphalt  pavements,  Superiority  of,  584,  588. 


Australia,  558-66  :  Books  and  papers,  570. 
"Cyclists'  Union,"  652.  Journalism,  696. 
Road-races,  559-64.  Subscribers  to  book, 
558,  706,  793-4.    Touring,  560-6. 

Austria:  C.  T.  C.  Members, 636-7 ;  roads, 
4S1,  55»»  55^. 

Authors  and  Books  quoted  by  me,  Index 
to,  Ixxvii. ;  Reciprocation  and  corrections 
asked  for,  7 18. 

Autobiographies  of  Wheelmen,  473-573  \ 
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-carrying,  13,  17,  308,  384. 

Baggagemen  :  awed  by  nickel-plate,  20 ;  Civil 
treatment  of,  597;  Fees  for,  86,  96,  221, 
596 ;  Remedy  for  extortion,  595,  59S. 

Bags  objectionable  on  a  bicycle,  17. 

Bartlelt'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.  Anlietam,  384. 
Bergen,  169.  Blue  Lick  Spring,  233.  Brook- 
lyn, 158.  Bull  Run,  375.  Centerville,  374. 
Clinton,  132.  Fisher's  Hill,  345, 383.  Forts 
Lee  and  Washington,  72.  Gettysburg,  385-6. 


xxu 


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, 23S.  Springfield,  127.  Staten  Island, 
158.  Tarrytown,  76.  Ticonderoga,  186. 
West  Springfield,  127.  While  Plains,  74. 
Winchester,  345,  383.  Wyoming,  2aa 
Yonkers,  78. 

Bays  and  Gulfs,  Index  to,  Ixi. 

Bed-bugs  at  the  "  danger-board  hotels  of  the 
C.  T.  C,"  639-41 ;  at  the  Mar>'land  canal 
house,  239  ;  in  Australia,  566. 

Bed-rooms,  Sunlight,  quiet,  good  air  and  bath- 
tubs wanted  for,  6oa,  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  Reefs  of,  353-70, 
»iv.,  592,  790. 

Bicycles,  Index  to  makes  of,  Ixxviii. 

Bicycling :  as  a  bridge  to  social  intercourse, 
5,  14,  729;  as  a  chance  for  character-study, 
3i  5i  <o>  x'i  729;  ^3  ^  cui^  ^^"^  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,  7or,  729.  Business  advantages  of,  501, 
S07>  5*<^>  534f  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-mile 

descent  of  the,  380. 
Boat-race  management  at  New  London,  130. 
Bonb-Shakbr  Days,  391-406,  xi v.,  523,  541, 

543  •  547- 
Book  of  Mine,  and  the  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,  672-80. 


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

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

Boots  and  shoes,  18,  ai. 

Boston,  Out  from,  101-114,  x.  :  Books  and 
papers  of  cycling,  654-9,  662-5,  673-80. 
Clubs,  105,  767,  793.  Hotels  and  horse- 
cars,  105.  Indifference  to  my  subscription 
scheme,  704,  70S.  Irish  sea-coast  settle- 
ment, 372.  Landmarks,  105-6.  League 
parades  at,  371,  616,  618.  Maps  and 
guides,  1 12-13.  Pemberton  and  ScoUay 
squares  contrasted,  104-5.  Police  ineffi- 
ciency at,  371,  616.  Prince-of-Wales  pro- 
cession, 471.  Road-book,  in, 677.  Scene 
of  my  learning  the  bi.  (March  28,  1879),  ^S* 

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

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,  368-9. 

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

Bugle  calls  and  tactics,  Books  on,  679. 

Bull  Run,  Luray  Cavern  and  Gbttvs- 
BURG,  371-90,  xiv.,  348,  350-1. 

California :  Danger  signal  against  League 
hotels  in,  609.  League  road-book  of,  625, 
799.  Touring  routes,  475-61  489-94^  Wel- 
come to  T.  Stevens,  572, 

Camel-trails  in  Asia,  480. 

Campobello,  Our  afternoon  00.  2701. 

Canada,  My  Fortnight  in,  3 10-32,  xiii. : 
A.  C.  U.'s  claim  to,  631.  Cursed  by  cheap 
hotels,  603,  320.  Deplorable  custonns  regu- 
lations, 311,  324,  575-  New  Brunswick 
references,  265,  270, 274,  790.  Nova  Scotia 
touring,  a82-94.  Prince  Edward  Island, 
290.  Quebec  to  Montreal,  575.  Subscrib- 
ers to  this  book,  789^^  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 ;  Defini- 
doDs  of  aodal  itatus,  635;  Finances  and 
DUfimbershtp,  635 ;  Founders,  634 ;  Monthly 
organ,  635,  659, 669-70;  Road-book,  3is-«9. 
336-7,  330,  636,  677.  Railroads  on  free 
lists,  S9S- 

CabsIs,  Index  to,  bdv.    {JSet  "  Tow-path. '0 

Castlb  Soutudb  in  the  Mbtmopous 
(x.  e.,  the  University  Building),  426-72,  xv. 

Catt'  tieatment  by  dogs,  4091  4>6,  425. 

Cemeteries,  Index  to,  bdv. 

Charm  of  bicycling,  iv.,  t,  14,  472,  729. 

Cheap  and  nasty  hotel-system  not  economical, 
606;  condemned  by  C.T.C.  8ufferere,639-4o. 

dargymen :  Air  of  condescension,  727. 
Prises  for  essays  00  wheeling,  658.  Rela- 
tionship to  coUege  foundations,  435.  Tour 
u  Canada,  323-4 ;  in  Europe,  499.  Veloci- 
pediats  in  '69,  391,  403.  Wheeling  reports, 
37«.  512,  544,  5^ 

Clothes,  13,  16-22,  307-8,  475,  485,  494.  S**, 
546,  537,  55a.  565. 

cubs  (index,  Ixiit.)  :  Directory  of  Ameri- 
can, 765-90.  Drill  books  for,  679.  Goy's 
Directocy  to  English,  638.  Formation  of 
proves  the  sociability  of  cycling,  14.  Houses 
in  Baltimore,  590 ;  Boston,  105,  767  ;  New 
York  tod  Brooklyn,  96-7,  586;  Philadel- 
phia, 5S9;  St.  Louis,  652 ;  Washington  ,590. 

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

CbASTIHG  ON  THE  JbKSBV  HiLLS,  I59-78,  Xl. 

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

(Colombia  CoUege,  References  to,  131,  si6, 

436-7- 
"CoLUMraA,  No.  234,"  35-48,  X- :  Axle,  37, 
40,  45,  46.  Backbone,  39,  40,  43.  Bear- 
>BS*}  37>  40,  4*'  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. 
Neck,  38,  40-  Nickeling,  38,  40,  43-  Oil 
cups,  37.  Overlapping,  43.  Pedal-pins, 
45,  47.  Pedals,  37,  47.  Rawhide  bearings, 
43,  336k  "  Rebuilding  "  plans  abandoned, 
47.  Repairs,  Cost  of,  41-  Rims,  45,  46,  350. 
Saddles.  37,  45-  Spokes,  38,  45,  46,  350. 
Spring,  37,  43-  Step,  39.  Tires,  36,  37, 38, 
47,  48.    Wrecked  by  runaway  mules,  44. 


Concierge  in  Paris,  Tyranny  of  the,  458. 

Connecticut,  Shore  and  Hili^top  in,  129* 
149,  xi.,  248-54  (index,  581) ;  League  road- 
book of,  625.  {See  "  New  Haven,»»  "  Yale 
College.") 

Contents-Table,  ix.-xx. 

Contrasts  between  bicycling  and  other  modes 
of  long-distance  travel,  303. 

Contributon'  Becbrds,  Index  to,  bcxL  ; 
Rules  for,  717. 

0>uvicts  as  road-builders,  355,  563. 

Corduroy,  Praise  of,  19,  21,  307. 

Costumes  for  touring,  16-22,  307-8,  475,  485, 
494,  508,  537,  55a,  565- 

Creeks  and  Brooks,  Index  to,  Ud. 

Curl,  the  Best  of  Bull-Dogs,  407-25,  xv. ; 
Allusions  to,  305,  393,  471 ;  Photo-gravure 
of  (fadng  title-page). 

Custom-Hoiise  rules  as  to  cycles :  Bel- 
gium, free  entry  ordered  Feb.  6,  '84,  599. 
Bermuda,  discretionary,  358.  Canada,  pro- 
hibitory red-tape,  Aug.  5,  '81,  3 1 1.  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>  'S4>  370 ;  ^i^t  classed  as  carriage,  instead 
of  machinery,  May  29,  *77»  25- 

Customs  officers.  Experiences  with,  282,311, 
324.  333.  358,  368-70,  518,  575. 

"Cyclists'  Touring  Club"  of  England 
(C.  T.  C),  636-646  :  "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.  World's  notices  of,  602-4, 
643-4.  Onada,  Slight  support  given  by, 
636,  643.  Chief  Consuls,  636,  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,  64s.  Finance  committee, 
638.  Finances  in  the  U.  S.,643.  Finan- 
cial report  of  '85  analyzed,  641.  Foreijcni 
members,  '^Amateurism  "  of,  638.  Forgery 
confessed  in  court  by  the  Secretary-Editor, 


xxiv 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


IzaocuL  GoMtiU^  Th«  official,  641, 687, 691, 
Izxxix.  Government,  Abstract  of  seventy 
rules  for,  637-&  Handbook,  682,  637,  687. 
Hotel  poUcy  denounced  by  Wheeling  and 
Bi.  IVffrtd,  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  a  social  sentiment,  642,  644.  Life 
memberships,  644.  London  region  supplies 
a  third  of  the  membership,  636.  Maps,  6S3. 
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  iu  Apr.,  '86,  646.  Publications,  638, 
642,  6S7-8,  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  Gazette^ 
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,  641.  Tanff 
of  hotels,  607;  r.  r.'s.,  598.  Unimpor- 
tant allusions,  601-8,  615-16,  619,  665,  667, 
669,  681-88,  693-5,  699-7«>t  765-  Usurpa- 
tion of  League  functions  resented,  644. 
Voting  for  officers,  System  of,  637.  Weak- 
ness of  perambulatory  Coundl,  642.  Wheels 
trie's  criticisms  of,  602,  639,  641.  Women 
members,  638. 

Cyclometen :  Butcher,  114,  127, 135,  147, 
322,  374,  482,  500,  506-8,  511,  517,  519-21, 
524,  526,  528,  529,  530.  Church,  524.  Ex- 
celsior, 128,  138,  189,  508-11,  524,  528,  666, 
714.  Hernu,  546,  555.  Lakin,  378,  50S, 
524,  526-8,  797,  799.  Lamson,  506.  Liv- 
ingston, 714.  McDonnell,  138,  149,  237, 
348,  335,  3^>  484*  50S.  S09>  5io>  5>if  5i2> 
513,  5»5-7.  5«9-»o,  524,  S27-30»  553.  569.  575» 
714.  Pope,  24,  135.  5o8»  5".  5»3i  S»7i  Sao, 
523,  581.  Ritchie  Magnetic,  172,  507,  511, 
523.  Spalding,  499,  508.  Suntoo,  508. 
Thompson,  517,  533.  Underwood,  508. 
Wealemefna,  533,  532. 

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


D«lftWftre  (index,  589). 

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

Directory  of  Whebumbn,  765-99{,  xx. 

DlBtrictof  ColumbU  (index,  590). 

Dog  as  a  companion  in  touring,  562,  565. 

Dogs,  Anecdotes  of,  iu  biography  ol  *'  Curl, 
the  best  of  buU-dogs,"  407-25. 

Down-East  Fogs,  In  the,  xii.,  255-81. 

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

Drill  books  for  bugle,  tactics  and  singing,  68ow 

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

England  and  tho  English,  444^8,  530-69, 
636-51,  688-96,  790-94.  "Amateurism " 
satirized  by  the  Baty  6sp.  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, 
68i-8.  Class  distinctions,  446-7.  Conven- 
tional attempts  at  "  naturahkesa,"  448. 
Crystal  Palace  dog  show  of  '72.  405.  Cy- 
clists' Touring  Club,  636-46,  681  («r#  spe- 
cial index,  '*  C.  T.  C").  "  Danger-board 
hotels' of  C.  T.  C,"  Testimony  of  sufferers 
at,  604,  639-41-  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  (j»r  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.  ^y  '76  tour  which  never  took  place, 
406.  Narrow-mindedness  of  business-men, 
484.  National  Cyclists'  Union,  646-51  (ute 
special  index,  "  N.  C.  U.").  Newspaper 
gossiper  sent  to  jail  by  Lord  Coleridge,  280. 
Newspap>er  prattle  about  the  nobility  and 
gentry,  396.  Prince  of  Wales's  visit  to 
America,  469-71-  Racing,  532-44,  547, 553-4- 
Racing  men.  Wheeling's  social  classifica- 
tion of,  629.  Railroad  and  s.  s.  rates  for  cy- 
cles, 598-9. .  "  Rights  and  Liabilities  of  Cy- 
clists," Law  book  on,  684-5.  Road-books 
and  guides,  550, 68 1-8.  Road  races,  532-44, 
553-8.  Self-suppression  the  supreme  law, 
445.  Servitude  to  servants,4 44-7.  Snobbery 
of  the  middle  classes  shown  by  "  amateur- 
ism," 650,   '•  Society  of  Cyclists,"  Dr.Rich- 


GENERAL  INDEX, 


xzv 


ardaoa'a,  647.  Social  conditions  shown  by 
iDo-keq>ing  customs  and  ideals,  602;  by 
abosive  personalities  of  cycling  press,  695. 
Subscribers  to  this  book,  Attraction  of, 
706;  Names  of,  790-a.  Subscribers  to 
lVhe€lm€aCs  GagttUy  662.  Sunday  riding. 
Statistics  of,  S4«-a.  "Tri,  Association" 
and  "Tri.  Union,"  in  N.  C.  U.,  647. 
Wheeling  biographies,  472-3.  Worship  of 
wealth,  446.  Wales,  Touring  in,  673,  681. 
Yates  (£.)  sent  to  jail  for  libel,  280. 

"  Er"  abetter  termination  than  "  ist,"  673-4, 
800L 

Ebib  Canal  and  Lakb  Erib,  Ths,  199- 
aoS,  xL 

Evarts  as  a  talker  for  business  only,  724. 

Eiemirtion  from  duty  for  tourists'  cycles  en- 
tering the  United  States,  How  my  Ber- 
muda trip  brought,  -jfA-io. 

Szpendituxes:  Baggage  and  express,  41. 
Bermuda  trip,  364.  Custom-House  charges,* 
599-600.  £!t»w-breaking,  35.  Elwell'stour, 
357.  Fees  to  baggagemen,  86, 96, 221,  596. 
Horse-scaring  in  '69, 395.  Mammoth  Cave, 
331.  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, 
5*4,531,  564- 

FMI :  A.  C.  U.,  631 ;  C.  T.  C,  638,  643 ; 
L.  A.  W.,  624;  N.  C.  U.,  647,  649;  Bag- 
gagemen, 86,  96,  221,  596;  Ferries,  96; 
Horse-car  lines,  86. 

Fifth  Avenue,  N.  Y.,  65,  451-4,  583. 

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

First  "thousand-mile  trail,"  304,  532,  549, 

5S«. 

Food  of  long-distance  riders,  480,  537. 

Fording  the  New  Zealand  rivers,  568. 

Foreign  ConatriBS,  Index  to,  Iviii. 

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

Forty  Days  Straightaway,  294-309,  xiii. 

Fotnr  names  for  cyclers  to  honor,  370. 

Four  Skasons  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, 
6oa  C.  T.  C.  members,  636.  Hatred  of 
originality,  468.  Invention  of  cycling  in 
olden  time,  x.  Lallement  at  Ansonia  and 
New  Haven,   X39>42,  394-    Long-distance 


rides,  5S2-3,  558.  Maps,  682.  Paris,  Allu- 
sions to,  2, 99,  280, 403, 406,  426,  448,  45S-9, 
480,  545,  551,  558,  563,  611,  64s,  651,  695-9, 
792.  Racing  free  from  "amateurism," 
628.  Railroad  rates,  599.  Social  ideals, 
46S.  Stevens's  ride,  480.  Subscribers  to 
this  book,  792.  Union  V^loclp^dique,  651, 
6;>8.  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, 
6531  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,  6x8 ;  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  (he  trade  in  general,  484 ;  by  trades- 
men to  cycling  books  and  papers,  653. 
Neglected  chance  at  Coventry,  6S4.  St. 
Louis  sarcasms  in  Am^  Wheelman.,  671. 

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

Genealogy  as  a  scientific  study,  722. 

Geographical  miscellany  (index,  Ixiii.). 

Oermany  and  the  QermanB:  Barthol's 
(H.)  2S00  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,  18,  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.)  sagacity  as  to  personal  peril, 
Anecdote  of,  724. 

Great  American  Hog,  The,  10,  596,  615,  621 ; 
Road  law  for  checking,  584,  680. 

Greeting  :  to  my  3000  Co-partners  (verses), 
xcvi. 

Halifax,  Pleasant  impressions  of,  292. 


XXVI 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Hamerton's  (P.  G.)  reflections  on  solitude 
and  independence,  467-9. 

Haryard  College :  Banlett's  (Gen.  W.  F.) 
noble  speech  at,  in  1874,  386.  Buildings, 
434-5'  Guide  book  to,  1 13.  Jealousy  of 
Yale,  35,  256.  Newspaper  lies  about,  397. 
Stupidity  as  to  boat-race  management  at 
New  London,  131.  Successful  financial 
policy,  437.  Unimportant  allusions,  loi, 
>03»  494»  5 Ml  658,  665,  767.  Velocipeding 
in  '69,  403. 

Hats  and  caps  for  touring,  18. 

Health  is  won  by  cycling.  Books  showing 
how,  685-6,  688. 

Healtli  fulness  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  ijue  "  Porcus 
A  mericanus  "). 

Holland  and  the  Dutch:  C.  T.  C.  mem- 
bers, 636-7.  Cyclers'  Union,  651,  700. 
Free  entry  for  cycles,  599.  Long  day's 
ride,  553.  Subscriber,  792.  Tour,  532. 
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,  571. 

Hotels,  The  Question  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, 
331,  345,  348,  381.  Where  this  book  may 
be  consulted,  609.  Women  patrons  of, 
442,  450.    Women  waiters  at,  13. 


Hudson  and  Lake  Gbokgb,  179-98,  xi. 

Humors  of  the  Boad :  Acadians*  picnk 
in  the  rain,  283.  Astonishment  at  the 
novel  vehicle,  8,  272,  379.  Australians' 
greetings,  560.  Binghamton  B.  C's  coa- 
tempt  for  my  long-distance  trophy,  30& 
Brave  passenger  and  his  apology.  The, 
380.  Car-drivers'  repartee,  105.  Cartoons 
of  velocipeding,  390.  Coaching-club  pho|og- 
raphers  take  my  back  for  a  background, 
281.  Compliments  from  the  Small  Boy,  6, 
'3f  48,  54-  Cooking  chickens  in  Viiiginia, 
350.  Diffident  introductions,  3.  Dogs,  18, 
i40»  565.  Facetiousness  of  the  Erie  canal* 
lers,  8-9.  Forced  to  mount  the  mail-coach, 
560.  Free-lunch  at  East  Machias,  271. 
Froggingin  the  Shenandoah,  383.  Good' 
bye  chortle  to  the  charmers  of  Calair, 
266.  Great  American  Hog,  The,  10,  596, 
615,  621.  "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  Rosenbluih'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.  "  Watdiing 
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,  534-3, 
538  ;  Reference  to  Boston,  516. 

Hungarian  tourists,  481,  551,  553,  79a. 

Ice  velocipede  of  '69,  404. 

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

Incidents  and  Accidents  (^^  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-$, 
519.     IVhttfnutCs  Record^  xciii. 

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

India-rubber  cloth  for  luggage-roll,  aa  ;  cops 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


xxvu 


and  poadies,  z8,  57 ;  drinking-tubes,  22  ; 
ovenbocs,  ai;  soles  unsoited  for  touring, 
so. 

Institutions,  Minor  Cycunc,  633-52,  x. 

Inventions  and  patents,  520,  526,  550. 

IPBlaiid  and  the  Irish:  Author  in  Amer- 
ica, 674.  Boll-dog  fanciers,  406, 409.  "  C. 
T.  C  hotels  "  denounced,  640.  Dublin  and 
Killamey,"  Faed*s  "  trips  to,  xcv.  Journal- 
ism, 654,  695.  Maps,  6S2-3.  Members 
of  C.  T.  C,  645-6,  688.  Pamphlet  of 
tour  in  England,  686.  Racing  governed  by 
I.e.  A.,  652.  Road-guides,  685.  Soldiers 
in  our  civil  war,  422.  Straightaway  ride, 
by  W.  M.  Woodside,  499.  Subscribers, 
72a.  Touring  report,  545.  Wheeling  static- 
tics  of  W.  Bowles,  545.  ' 

TllMldB,  Index  to,  Ix. 

'*  1st "  inferior  to  '*  er  "  as  a  verbal  ending, 
673-4.  669,  800. 

It^:  Barthol's  (H.)  tour,  552.  Bohon's 
(A.  M.)  tour,  549.  Cycles  at  the  Custom 
House,  600.  Raihvad  rates,  599.  Sub- 
scribers, 792,  798.  Tricycling  in,  Pennells' 
book  of,  530,  687.    Wheel  literature,  700. 

Jafpan:  Suvens's  tour,  572.  Subscriber, 
79». 

Jonnudism  of  the  Wheel,  654-700.  Alpha- 
betical index  to  all  cycling  and  sporting 
papers  quoted  or  referred  to  in  this  book, 
hadL  Americanpressof '86, 661-72.  Argu- 
ment for  free  advertisement  of  it,  653-4, 
and  by  it,  718-9.  Ausvalian  papers,  696, 
570.  Belgian  papers,  697.  Bound  volumes 
for  libraries,  662-3  r  69  r .  Circulation ,  State- 
ments and  opinions  about,  654,  656,  659, 
661,  665,  669-70,  691,  693-4,  697,  707. 
'*  Consolidation,''  Fallacy  concerning,  659, 
668,  6^.  Dutch,  700.  Editors,  Sugges- 
tions to,  7  (9b  English  press,  Sketch  of  the, 
688^5,  650,  547-9 ;  French,  69S-9 ;  German, 
697,  699;  Hungarian,  697;  Italian,  700; 
League  policy  unaffected  by  press  clamor, 
6i8-2o,  630.  List  of  22  Am.  and  Eng.  jour- 
nals, Aug.  I,  '86,  654.  Norwegian,  700. 
OflSdal  organs,  618-21,  650,  720.  Personal 
abuse.  Specimens  of,  694-5.  Postal  regis- 
tration for  second-class  ratss,  619-20,  667. 
*'  Reading-notices,*'  Ineffectiveness  of, 
708^,  718.  Rivalry  between  "Coventry 
ring  "  and  "  Hlutlmg  crew,"  690,  694-5, 
547^  Spanish,  70a  Sporting  and  out- 
ode  papen   support   cyding,  67a,  695-6. 


Southern  papers  (U.  S.),  670,  672.  Supple- 
mentary details.  May  i,  1887,  xciv.  Swed- 
ish, 700,  Touring  reports  less  attractive 
than  race  reports,  716.  Treatment  of  my 
subscription  scheme,  704-9.  Western  papers 
(U.  S.),  660.1,  669,  671-2.  Writers,  pub- 
lishers and  printers,  Index  to,  Ixxiii. 

Jounullsm  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, 
263-4.  Lies  told  "  for  revenue  only "  : 
against  the  nobility  in  England, — against 
the  collegians  in  America,  396-7.  Remark- 
able run  by  my  while  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 
}V0ridy  720-1.  Suggestions  to  reviewers, 
viti.  Tupperism  and  Greeleyism  rebuked 
by  Charles  Astor  Bristed,  727-8. 

Kentucky  and  its  Mammoth  Cavb, 
224-37,  «ii.  (index,  590). 

Khorassan  and  Koordistan,  T.  Stevens's  ad- 
ventures in,  481,  4S3,  570. 

Lakh  Gborgr  and  thr  Hudson,  179-98,  xi. 

Lakes  and  Ponds,  Index  to,  Ix. 

Lakin  cyclometer  prize  for  1885  mileage,  527-8. 

Lallement  at  Ansonia,  139-41,  394. 

Lanterns,  18,  516,  518. 

Larrigan  manufactory,  265. 

Last  Word,  Thk,  800. 

Lawyers  as  wheelmen,  503,  511,  533. 

Lbacub  op  American  Whbblmbn,  xviiL, 
615-33  :  Amaieitr  Athlete  as  official  organ, 
619, 667-8.  "Amateur,"  Definition  of,  624 ; 
racing  men  expelled  by  the,  629.  Appoint- 
ment of  officers,  622,  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, 624.  "Creed"  vs.  C.  T.  C,  644. 
Defalcation  of  Secretary-Editor,  Ixxxiv. 
Elections,  623,  626.  English  editors'  at- 
tempt to  discredit  its  "time,"  547,  626. 
Executive  Committee,  622-3,  627,  Ixxxiv. 
Founded  on  my  broken  elbow,  34.  Gov- 
emmental  reform,  Pres.  Bates  on,  626. 
Hand-books,  625,  677.    Hostility  to  C.  T. 


xxviii       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


C  eocroachments,  644.  Hotels,  Policy 
denounced,  6ot,  641.  Hotels,  Appoiutmeut 
of,  by  diiel  consuls,  624,  609.'  Incorpoia-  • 
tion  proposed,  626.  Life  memberships,  624. 
New  York  Division,  Electiou  law  and  sta- 
tistics of ,  626.  Marshals,  623,637.  Meet- 
ings, 623.  Membership,  Committee  on, 
622, 627  ;  ^reographical  statistics  of ,  617-18; 
Mode  of  applying  for,  624 ;  Two  arguments 
for,  621.  Officers,  Duties  of,  62 1-24 ;  Elec- 
tioh  of,  623, 626 ;  Meetings  of,  623  ;  Names 
of,  626-28;  Praise  of,  618, 621.  Offshoots: 
A.  C.  U.  and  C.  W.  A.,  628, 633.  "  Organ- 
ship  "  iu  '84,  Bids  of  various  papers  for,  619. 
Parades,  '80  to  *86,  615-18,  21,  225,  371. 
Political  power,  Pres.  Bates  on,  62  \.  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  list,  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.  a*4»  242.  aSi,  371,  372,  488, 
493.  504,  S08,  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,  6a  I.  Voting  for  officers  of, 

623,  626,  Isncxix. 

T.«pil-Tender  dedsion,  Rejrret  for  the,  464. 

LegiBlation  against  Cycling :  Attempts  in 
Ohio,  621 ;  in  New  Jersey,  588,  735.  Com- 
mon law  a  defense,  5S4,  615,  680.  Test 
case  at  Central  Park,  93-5,  585,  xc 


Library  of  N.  C.  U.  at  London,  65a 

Liidifield  as  a  typical  village,  142. 

Loadstone  Rock,  Comparisons  to,  354,  724. 

Log  keeping  by  tourists.  Books  for,  676. 

London  (*«*  "  England,"  "  C  T.  C."  and 
"  N.  C.  U.") :  Books  and  papers  of  cydiog, 
68 1-8.  Characterization  of  by  Co wper,  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,  29a.  Journals  of  cycling, 
688-95,  654t  547-9*  Maps,  681-2.  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,  xdi.  So- 
ciety journalist  sent  to  jail,  by  Lord  Cole- 
ridge, 280.  Subscribers  to  this  book,  791. 
"  Views  "  inferior  to  tbose  of  N.  Y.,  99, 
45*  • 

Long  -  Distance  Routes  and  Riobks, 
473-So»»  «vi. 

Long  Island  and  Statbn  Island,  150-58, 
xi. ;  Road  book  and  maps,  584,  625. 

Loquot,  The  incomparable,  365. 

I^uggage-carriers,  Lamson  and  Z.  &  S.,  17, 
22,  45,  714. 

Luray  Cavern,  Praise  of,  381-2. 

Macadam  in  the  U.  S.,  The  first,  24a ;  Primi- 
tive mode  of'  applying  it  on  the  Shen- 
andoah pike,  345. 

Macliines,  Breakage  and  repairs  of,  37-41, 4S7, 
492,  496,  498.    Guides  to,  550,  67s,  683-7. 

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

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

Makes  of  bicydes  and  tricycles  mentioned 
in  this  book.  Indexes  to,  IxxviiL 

Malaria  cured  by  bicyding,  295,  308. 

Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky,  231-2,  387-2. 

Manhattan  Island,  Geography  of,  64 ;  En- 
trance to,  84.   {Se«  "  New  York  City.") 

Maps:  Adirondacks,  187,  211.  Berkshn-e 
Co.,  Ms.,  112.  Boston,  113.  Brooklyn, 
99,584.  Buffalo,  58S.  Canada,  331.  Cat»- 
kills,  187.  County,  99,  1x2,  177,  187,  6Sa. 
Connecticut,  99,  112,  113,  148,  177,  393. 
England,  6S1-7.  France,  682.  Ireland,  683. 
Kentucky,  590.  Lake  Geoi^,  99.  Loo- 
don,  681-2.  Long  Island,  99, 154,  584, 625. 
Maine,  575.    MassachuaettSp   122-13,   >76. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


zxrx 


Ml  Desert,  aSi.  New  Brunswick,  331. 
New  England,  1 13,  33 1.  New  Hampshire, 
577.  New  Jersey,  100,  159,  176-7,  New 
York  City,  100.  Nova  Scotia,  393.  Ohio, 
615.  Onurio,  331.  Orange,  175,  584, 
5S8.  Rhode  Island,  581.  Scotland,  681-3. 
Spn'nRfi^ld,  126,  254,  State,  112.  Staten 
I»!and,  99,  158,  625.  Vermont,  578.  Vir- 
ginia, 352.    Westchester  Co.,  99,  100. 

If  ftps  Ful>liahed  by  Adams,  100,  1 13,  1491 
«77,  33»»35»-5-  Barkraan,  584, 625.  Beers, 
99, 126, 14^^,  174-5. 177.  187. 577-  Bradley, 
254.  Bromley,  176.  Collins,  683.  Collons, 
99.  "3,«49.  158.  »77.  »S7,  293.  33'.  352, 
575,  577.  579.  58>,  S90-  Cupples,  Up- 
ham  &  Co.,  112-13.  Gill,  683.  Heald, 
154.  Jarrold  &  Co.,  6S3.  Johnson,  352. 
Knight  ft  Leonard,  245.  Letts,  681-2. 
Mason  &  Payne,  681-2.  Merrill,  198. 
Paul  ft  Bro.,  5SS.  Philip  ft  Son,  682-3. 
Smith,  176.  Steiger,  100.  Stoddard,  187, 
211.  Taintor,  19S.  Walker  ft  Co.,  113, 
126.     Walling,  576.     Watson,  154. 

Massachusetts  (index,  579) :  Road-reports, 
101-28.  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. 

May  Fourth,  1887  (verses),  xcvi. 

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

Medical  men*s  experience  in  wheeling,  510, 
523  ;  testimony  for,  62,  658. 

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

Mezieo :  Cycles  at  the  custom  house,  600 ; 
sabscribers  to  this  book,  790. 

Mileage  statistics,  Annual( American), 503-30 ; 
(Australasian),  562-9;  (English),  531-5S. 

Misprint  of  price  (#1.50 for  $2),  732,  734,  799. 

Mistresses  and  wives,  442-4. 

Konntain  PealEs  and  Banges,  Index  to, 

lix. 
Mt  Desert,  Two  days'  wheeling  on,  275-9. 
Mules'  perversity,  9,  44,  199,  208,  379. 
Music  and  songs  for  wheelmen,  679,  686, 693. 
X7  Autobiography,  Index  to,  Ixxix. 
My  bull-dog's  life  and  adventures,  407-25. 
My  prize  essay  (which  didn't  take  the  prize), 

"  Oh  thb  Whbbl,"  1-14,  657-8,  702,  iii. 
"  My  Second  Ten  Thousand,"  Proposals  for, 

716-7,  211,  501,  573,  590. 
Mr  234  RiDSS  00  "  No.  234,"  4^3.  x. 


Nadal's  (E.  S.)  impresnons  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  Cyclists'  Union"  of  Xngland 
(N.  C.  UOf  646-651 :  "Amateurism,"  Defi- 
nit  ion  of,  638  ;  financial  dilemma  produced 
by,  648 ;  proposed  abolition  of,  649 ;  vacil- 
lation in  treatment  of,  630,  649.  "  B.^.," 
as  first  named,  647.  Championship  meet- 
ings and  gate-money,  649.  Council  of  Dele- 
gates, 647.  Danger-boards,  651.  Exec- 
utive Committee  in  '86,  646 ;  in  '87,  Ixxx. ; 
functions  of,  648 ;  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,  65 1.  Medals  for  record-breaking,  65 1 . 
Membership,  647 ;  Dissatisfactwn  of,  649. 
Mismanagement  of  '86  races,  648.  "  Ob- 
jects" officially  defined,  647.  Officers,  Elec- 
tion of,  647 ;  Names  of,  646,  xciii.  Publi- 
cations, 650.  Quonim,  647-8.  Races  of 
*86  mismanaged,  648.  Racing-register  pro- 
posed, 649.  Record-medals,  651.  Refer- 
ence library,  650.  Representation,  Mode 
of,  647-8.  Reserve-fund,  648-9.  Review, 
The  official  quarterly,  650.  Roads,  Efforts 
for  improved,  647,  650.  •*  T.  A."  and  "  T.' 
U. "  absorbed,  647.  Unimportant  allusions, 
615,  686,  693,  695.  Wheeli$tg^s  criticisms, 
629-30,  648-51,  xciii. 

National  Pike,  The  Old,  24J-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,  431;  neat  ap- 
pearance at  Bermuda,  364. 

New  Bnmswlek:  Larrigans  at  St.  Ste- 
phen's, 265,  270.  Our  aftei^oon  on  Campo- 
bello,  270,  515.    Tour  to  St.  John,  274. 

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

New  Haven :  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,  39«-405.     {See  "  Yale  College.") 


XXX 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


New  Jeney  (index,  58S):  Road-reports, 
159-78.  State  Geological  Survey  and  Offi- 
cial Atlas,  159,  176. 

New  South  Wales:  Cyclists'  Union,  652. 
Journalism,  564.  Subscribers,  793.  Tour- 
ing, 564-6. 

Newspaper  lying,  A  celebrated  case  of,  395-8 ; 
A  circumstantial  case,  263-4.  American  and 
English  ideals  of  compared,  396-7. 

Newspapers  as  factories  for  the  making  and 
l|>readiug  of  gossip  by  steam  machinery,  281. 

Nbw  York  City  :  64-100,  x. ;  426-72,  xv. 
(index,  5S2)  :  Appletons'  Dictionary,  100. 
Artists'  studios,  430.  Battery,  98.  Big 
Bridge,  86.  Blackwell's  Island,  69.  Books 
and  papers  of  cycling,  584, 654-5, 665^,  674, 
677.  Brooklyn,  87-90,  97;  Central  Park, 
67,  93f  95.  585-  Club-houses,  96-7,  586, 
772-4.  Directories,  100.  Elevated  r.  r., 
98,  584.  Fees  on  horse  cars  and  ferries, 
86,  96.  Ferries,  8x,  85,  87,  88,  91,  168, 
583.  Fifth  Avenue,  65,  451-4,  583.  Fort 
Lee  ferry  as  entrance,  84.  Geography, 
64-5.  High  Bridge,  70,  583.  HoteU  and 
restaurants,  611.  Lightness  of  "social 
pressure,"  427-8,  448-9.  League  parade 
and  banquet,  617.  Maps  and  guides,  99-100. 
Novelists' limitations,  448-9.  Obelisk,  Erec- 
tioiwof  the,  465.  Pavements,  66,  5S4.  Police 
rules,  67,  452.  Prince  of  Wales's  visit, 
469-71.  Public  spirit,  or  "  sense  of  local- 
ity," Lack  of,  427,  436.  Races  of  League 
in  '81  a  failure,  616.  Restaurants,  611. 
Sidewalks,  67.  Social  life,  Limitations  of, 
448-52.  Storage,  of  wheels,  86, 96.  Street- 
system,  65,  451,  586,  Subscribers  to  this 
book,  772-5.  "Thirtieth  Street,"  Con- 
trasted ideals  of,  45»-  Trade  addresses, 
100.  Views  from  Trinity  spire,  99.  Veloci- 
peding  in  '69,  403.  WJuePs  support  of  my 
canvass,  704-8. 

New  York  State  (index,  582)  :  Road-re- 
ports, 150-8,  179-223,  246-8. 

New  Zealand :  "  Cyclists'  Alliance,"  652. 
Journalism,  696.  Population,  railroads  and 
telegraph,  570.  Subscribers,  794.  Touring 
and  road-ridinjr,  567-70. 

Niagara  and  Some  Lesser  Waterfalls, 
209-223,  xi.,  202,  586. 

Nickel  plate,  Advantages  of,  19-22. 

Night  riding,  493»  498,  5»6,  533.  537.  539, 
553-«. 

Norway :  Cycling  paper,  700 ;  touring,  549. 


Nova  Scotia  and  the  Islands  Bbtond, 
282-94,  xii. 

Obituary  of  Cola  E.  Stone,  323. 

"  Object-lessons "  in  long-distance  toon, 
301-3  ;  in  neat  riding  costume,  19^ 

OceanB  and  Sounds,  Index  to,  IxL 

Ohio :  Attempted  legislation  against  cycling, 
621.  Cycling  monthly,  526,  660.  League 
books  aud  maps,  625,  677.  Mileage  re- 
ports, 526.  Railroads,  594.  Touring  re- 
ports, 245.  479.  488.  5o».  5»9- 

Omnibus  roof-riding,  99,  406,  584. 

Ontario,  A  Fortnight  in,  310-32,  ziii. 
{Set  "  Canada.") 

Outside  Dog  in  the  Fight  (verses),  412. 

Parades  of  League,  615-18;  badly  managed 
at  Boston  and  Washington,  371;  Cincin- 
nati velveteen  at  Chicago,  224. 

Paria :  Autocracy  of  the  concierge,  458-9. 
Cycling  literature,  69S-9,  792.  The  invisi- 
ble countess,  280.  Velocipeding  in  '68, 390^ 
403,  406.  "  Views  "  and  "  fickleness  "  con- 
trasted with  New  York's,  99,  586. 

Park  Commissioners,  Contests  with  N.  Y., 
92-95,  585-6,  xciii. 

Parks  and  Squares.  Index  to,  Ixl 

Patch  (Sam)  at  Genesee  Falls,  215. 

Pathology  :  cramps,  59-60 ;  fxces,  307,  536 ; 
fever,  552 ;  saddle-soreness,  307, 537 ;  thirst, 

63.  537- 

Pennsylvania  (index,  589)  :  Scenic  impres- 
sions of  my  autumn  ride  across,  302-3,  341-4. 
Senator  Cameron  as  a  phrase-maker,  it. 
{JSte  "  Philadelphia.") 

"  Personal  "  quality  of  the  wheel,  as  regards 
its  rider,  592. 

Personal  statistics,  Spedmens  of,  473-572  • 
Request  for,  717. 

Personifications:  Bicycle,  246.  Church, 
324,  447.  Custom,  444,  Death,  254,  259, 
732.  Devil,  8, 482.  Evil  One,  401.  Fame, 
465,  728.  Fate,  45,  62,  92,  396,  731.  For- 
tune, 380.  Freedom,  472.  Globe,  304. 
God,  481.  Government,  447.  Justice,  459. 
Life,  44,  472,  733.  Memory,  136.  Moon, 
444.  Nature,  25,  54,  63,  303,  38a.  Nep- 
tune, 364.  New  Year,  390,  399.  North, 
386,  439.  Old  Year,  391,  590.  Past,  309. 
Providence,  457.  Safety,  505.  Saw-horse, 
420.  Scythe-Swinger,  725.  Seventy,  44. 
South,  385,  386.  Sun,  444.  Time,  391, 
465.  47*.  656,  725.  Truth,  63.  Universe, 
304.    Velocipede,  401-4.*    West,  386. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


XXXI 


k  nained  in  this  book,  Index  to  1476 
(exduuve  of  the  3400  subscribers  named 
OB  pp.  734-99)  J  Ixv.-btxi. 
Philadelphia:  "Association  for  Advance- 
ment of  Cycling,'*  5S9.  Books  and  papers 
of  cycling,  654,  660,  674.  Riding  routes, 
"64,  377»  3^8-9.  495.  497.  499*  S^a. 

Thiliwophical  and  Social  (index,  Ixxxi.). 

Photograptiing,  Ainateur,  260,  369,  371,  546. 

Pictures  and  sketches,  379,  475, 493,  5341  SP* 
556,  656-60,  662,  665-75,  683-93- 

Poetry  and  Venos  (mv  *'  Quotations  ") : 
iCneas  to  Dido,  305.  After  Beer,  15. 
Apostrophe  to  the  Wheel,  346.  Birthday 
Fanta«e,  A,  33.  Boating  at  Bermuda, 
353-4.  367-  Bull-Doggerel,  409,  411-13, 
430, 435.  Carmen  Bellicosum,  186.  Carpe 
Diem,  473.  Champion  Bull-Dog,  409, 4 1 1. 
Cui  Bono  ?  309.  Drink  Hearty,  63.  East 
Rock,  136.  Gather  the  Roaes  while  ye 
May,  473.  Greeting  to  my  Co-partners, 
acrL  Holyoke  Valley,  136.  In  the 
Yacht  Kulioda,  353-4,  367.  Kaaterskill 
Falls,  a  16.  Last  Word,  The,  800.  May 
Fourth,  i8$7,  xcvi.  Outside  Dog  in  the 
Fight.  The,  413.  Pinaforic  Chant,  800. 
Qnashiboo,  444.  Springt  der  Sam  Patsch. 
3 16.  Sursum  Corda,  701.  Touring  Alone, 
J4.  Triolet  to  "Two-Thirty-Four,"  49. 
Triumph,  304.  Velocipede,  401.  Wheeling 
Lsuge,  309.  Wheelocipcde,  39a 

Political  allusions,  309,  370,  386,  4>i-a>  443 > 
450.  460.  464.  547.  585.  7a4»  726-7. 

"  Politics  "  :  as  affected  by  wheelmen's  votes, 
585,  615,  631 ;  as  contrasted  to  wheeling, 
309;  as  related  to  N.  Y.  parks,  93,  585. 

Pope  Mfg.  Co. :  Advertising  pamphlets  and 
calendars,  678-Sa  Bi.  ^<7r/</ rupture,  664. 
Columbia  bicycles  and  tricycles  mentioned 
in  this  book  (index,  Ixxviii.),  34-63.  Offices 
in  four  chief  cities,  799.  Portraits  and 
biographies  of  its  president,  Col.  A.  A. 
Pope,  680;  my  estimate  of  his  business- 
standing  and  sagacity,  712,  vL  Prizes  for 
essays  and  pictures  on  wheeling,  657-8,  703. 
Support  of  my  publication  scheme,  703,  711- 
i3i  799*     H^keglman,  published  by,  659-60. 

Ptrau  Amgricanus  (the  Horse-driving  Hog, 
who  assumes  the  highways  of  this  continent 
as  his  own  private  property),  xo,  57,  596, 
615,  631 ;  road  law  for,  584,  680,  684-5. 

PMraits,  Lists  of  wheelmen's,  675,  680, 
68^6,  689,  69i>  693. 


Portraits,  The  exchanging  of,  tSo. 

Postage  of  C.  T.  C.  GazttU,  641 ;  qIL.  A, 
W.  BuUtiin^  619-20. 

Potomac,  Along  thb,  338-45,  xii. 

Prbfacb  (5000  words)  iii.-viii. 

Price  misprinted  ("  $1.50  "  for  "  $3  '*)»  73a, 
734,  799- 

Prince  of  Wales's  visit  to  the  room  where 
this  book  was  written,  469-7 r. 

Prize  competitions.  Literary,  artistic,  657-8. 

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

"  Promateur,"  A.  C.  U.  definition  of,  633. 

Proverbs :  604,  680,  703, 733,  737 ;  (Latin)  63, 
280,  444,  4^9,  459.  680. 

Pseudonyms,  Request  for,  718. 

Publio  Buildings,  Index  to,  Ixii. 

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

Qua&hiboo  Bull  (verses),  444< 

Queensland:  Cycling,  653.  Subscribers,  793. 

Quorum:  L.  A.  W.,  633;  A.  C.  U.,  631 ; 
C.  T.  C.,643;  N,  C.  U.,  647-8. 

Quotations:  French  vi.,  i,  34,  723,  737. 
German,  316.  Greek,  viii.,  457,  718,  734. 
Italian,  640.  Latin,  iii.,  62,  130,  280,  305, 
386,  439.  437,  444,  459.  466,  505,  680. 
Verses,  vii.,  34,  36, 136,  186-7, 216,  246, 266, 
304,  305,  309.  3*3.  353-4,  367,  39',  4oa,  406, 
409,  411.  41a,  420,  4*5,  430.  444.  447,  459, 
465-6,  47a,  505,  615,  70t,  727-31. 

Baces:  Australia,  559-67 ;  England,  532-58 ; 
for  100  miles,  513;  not  known  in  bone- 
shaker days,  399;  on  the  road,  127,  320-3  ; 
participants'  allusions  to,  509,  516,  523,  529, 
537 ;  straightaway  courses  in  Canada  and 
Shenandoah  Valley,  397,  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, 
653.  Social  insignificance  of,  v.  Speed 
more  desirable  than  social  subtleties,  629, 
630.  Statistics,  American  books  of,  675, 
680.    Trade  promotion  of,  v.,  716. 

Railroads  {set  "  Transportatiom  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,  57a 

Rain,  Riding  in  the,  263,  534. 

Record-keeping,  Bhnk  books  for,  676,  xcv. 


xxxii        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


BeoordB  of  Oontributon,  473-572  (indexes, 
xvi.,  xvii.,  Ixxi.);  Suggestions  for  prepar- 
ing, 717. 

Restaurants  in  New  York,  611. 

Revolutions  of  bi.  wheels,  Statistics  of,  563. 

Bliode  Island  (index,  581). 

Rights  and  liabilities  of  wheelmen,  Legal 
treatises  on  the  (American),  584,  680 ;  (En- 
glish), 684-5- 

Rinks  for  velocipeding  in  1869,  393-4>  400-3- 

BlveTS  and  VaUeys,  Index  to,  lix. 

Boad-books :  "American  Bicycler,"  The, 
the  earliest,  674.  Berkshire  County,  Ms., 
700.  Boston,  IT  I,  655,  677.  California, 
625.  Canada,  330,  636,  677.  Cape  Ann, 
655.  Connecticut,  58a,  677.  Costs  and 
conditions  of  making,  715.  C.  T.  C,  642, 
687.  England,  681-2.  Essex  County ,  Ms. , 
112,655,  677.  Gloucester,  Ms.,  655.  In- 
diana, 625.  Kentucky,  590,  678,  Long 
Island,  584,  625,  655,  678.  Maryland,  589. 
Massachusetts,  581,  625,  677-8.  Michigan, 
677.  New  Jersey,  177,  589.  New  York, 
Ixxxix.,  584,  625,  678  (221).  Ohio,  625,  677. 
Pennsylvania,  177,  589.  Springfield  (map), 
254.  Vermont,  579.  Western  New  York, 
22  T,  677. 

Road-records,  Log-books  for,  676-7.  Sugges- 
tions for  keeping,  717. 

Boadfl :  Asia  Minor,  481-2.  Bermuda,  355-7. 
China, 572.  England,  531-58,681-2.  France, 
480,552,558.  Germany,  480,  551-2.  India, 
571-2.  Japan,  572.  Persia,  481-2,  570. 
Danger-boards  on  bad  hills  in  England, 
643-4,  648,  651.  Defense  by  me  of  Amer- 
can  roads  as  suitable  for  touring,  11;  of 
Canadian  as  superior  to  U.  S.,  297,  300, 
330  (opposing  testimony,  320,  324).  Im- 
provement and  maintenance  of,  as  shown  in 
"Agricultural  Reports  of  Massachusetts," 
680;  "  N.  C.  U."  pamphlets,  647.  Legal 
books  as  to  wheelmen's  rights  on  the,  584, 
647, 680, 684.  Sign-boards  less  needed  than 
road-books,  644.  Superiority  of  asphalt, 
584,  5«8- 

"  Rotation "  in  office.  My  protest  against, 
617-18. 

BlUSia:  Book  of  touring  from,  687.  Czar's 
absolutism.  Allusions  to  the,  458,  724.  T. 
Stevens's  proposed  route  through,  570. 
Subscriber,  792,  799. 

Sardine  industry  in  Maine,  The,  270,  274. 

Scettic  descriptions.  Attempts  at,  99,  104, 224, 


237,  268,  29a,  299,  301-5,  3*,  365,  380-3, 
418-34.  ^ 

Scotland  and  the  Scotch:  Books  of  road« 
and  tours,  684-6.  C.  T.  C.  Council,  645-6. 
H.  Callan's  touring  report,  545.  Journals, 
695,  xciv.  Maps,  68i-3.  Road-races  to 
John  O'Groat's,  553-7.     Subscribers,  792. 

Separate  roadway,  English  estimates  of  mile- 
age on,  532-54  ;  My  own,  31. 

Servants  as  rulers  of  society,  445-50,  458-9, 
729. 

Shoes,  Mileage  statistics  of,  at,  7x9. 

Sidewalk  riding,  Rules  about,  in  New  Haven, 
395,  402 ;  in  N.  Y.,  67 ;  in  Prospect  Park, 
92,  586-7. 

Small  Boy's  relation  to  cycling.  The,  13,  48. 

Snow  and  ice  cycling,  246-54,  404,  475-6, 
491-2,  507,  522.  527.  555.  559,  570. 

Social  and  Philosophical  (index,  Ixxxi.). 

"  Society  of  Cyclists,"  Evolution  of  the,  from 
the  English  "  T.  U.,"  647. 

Solitude  and  independence,  as  described  and 
illustrated  by  P.  G.  Hamerton,  467-9. 

Songs  and  music  for  cyclers,  655, 679,  686, 693. 

South,   Political  allusions  to  the,  386,  724. 

South  Australia:  Cyclists' Union,  652.  Re- 
ports of  tourists,  560-1.     Subscribers,  793. 

Southern  tjqse  of  countjrtowns,  303. 

Spain:  A.  M.  Bolton's  story  of  cycling  in, 
549,  683.  Vtlocipedo  published  at  Madrid. 
700. 

Springpibld,  The  Environs  of,  115-128, 
»•!  251-3,  579-80 :  Bicycle  Qub  forms  "A 
C.  U."  to  provide  **  amateurs "  for  its 
tournament,  63 1.  Birthplace  of  myself  and 
my  ancestors,  722.  "  Coventry  ring  "  jour- 
nals of  England  profess  to  doubt  fast  rac- 
ing "  time,"  547.  Maps  and  guides,  126-7, 
254.  Printing  Company  and  its  contract  to 
manufacture  this  book,  viit.,  706,  710-11, 
799.  Wheelmen's  Gazette,  661-2,  706-7. 
"Wheelmen's  Reference  Book,"  675,  710. 

Squares  and  Parks,  Index  to,  Ixi. 

"  Star  "  bicycle  excels  in  coasting,  270,  274. 

Statks,  Summary  by,  573-90,  xviii.  Index 
and  abbreviations  of,  Iviii.  Representation 
of  in  League,  617,  6i8,  628.  Residences 
of  subscribers  to  this  book,  classified  geo- 
graphically by,  XX.,  765-89  (705). 

Statistics  from  thb  Veterans,  503-30, 
xvi.    {See  '*  Historical  Statistics.**) 

Steamships  [see  "  Transportation  Tax," 
591-600,  X. ;  also  "  Ferries  "). 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


xzziu 


Stereni'B  (T.)  T^rar  rmmd  the  World : 

San  Fkancnoo  to  Boston,  473-80;  Lirer- 
pool  to  Teheran,  480-3 ;  Persia,  Afghan- 
irtM,  India,  Ouna  and  Japan,  570-a. 
Stockings,  Miieago  statiatica  of,  31, 208,  739. 

S-ntAIGHTAWAT  POS  FOBTY   DaYS,  294-309, 

»iL 

Straightaway  oouraes  for  long-distance  rac- 
ing, Best  American,  297,  590. 

Scxaightoway  day's  rides  of  100  m.  (Ameri- 
can), 113-14,  «a«,  w8,  138,  154. 3".  3M» 
319.  3*1-3,  378, 480, 493.  498,  5»S ;  (Austra- 
lasian) SS9^;  (English)  534,  53^  547,  55 «. 
SS3-7. 

Straightaway  rides  of  3  and  4  days.  Longest 
American,  498. 

Straightaway  stays  in  saddle,  53,  m,  xs8, 
138,  X48,  183,20a,  358,  3i3»  3191  343.  388, 
493,  499>  510.  5>4>  S'6,  52a,  537,  530,  534, 
539.  540-1.  546,  559.  575- 

SuascaiBSRs,  Thk  Thrbb  Thovsahd, 
734^,  xix. ;  Allusions  to,  vi.,  vii.,  64,  353» 
473,  484,  558,  569.  573.  701-ao,  732.  Geo- 
graphical  directory  of,  765-94,  (705).  Sui>- 
plementary  list  of  latest  soo,  with  "  trade 
directory,*'  794-9* 

"Swells"  not  patrons  of  cycling,  695. 

Bwttoerhind ;  Custom  House  rules,  599. 
Cycling  Union,  650.  C.  T.  C.  Division, 
637.  Englishmen's  tour,  532,  542.  Sub- 
scriber, 79^' 

Tables  of  mileage,  509,  535.  54o,  54*.  544. 
573-4. 

TMmmnla:  Cydists'  Union,  652.  Excur- 
sionists' r.  r.  guide,  563.  Road-racing  and 
touring,  563-4.    Subscribers,  794. 

Taylor's  (G.  J.)  patent  crank  lever,  S2a 

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

Thousand  Islands  to  Natural  Bridgb, 
333-52,  »ii. 

Tires,  Excellent  service  of,  37-38, 47,  531,  538. 
,  Tool  carrying,  18,  22. 

Toronto,  Impressions  of.  318. 

Touring  parties'  reports,  183,  187,  192,  197, 
198,  315,  316,  318,  344.  a45.  »57-79,  3M-»5f 
Sao-s,  348,  377.  5«>f  5<».  5«*.  S4a,  560,  580. 

Tcmriiii^  Boutet:  Adiroodacks,  311,  587. 
Australia,  564-6.  Baltimore,  377,  589. 
Berkshire  Hills,  The,  131,  i4a-3.  M7-8. 
s«y4»  ao8,  5*».  7«>-  Boston  to  Ports- 
mouth,  loi^a;  to  Providence,  107;  to 
Spriogield,  103,  no,  117,  isS,  181,  308. 
Buffalo,    s33-    CaliComia,  475-61    489-94- 


Catskills,  187-9,  4^,  49S.  Conn.  Riaer, 
117.20,  179-84,  57»-«o-  BnglMd,  5t»4i. 
553.8.  Europe,  480,  $*»»  545#  55i-3i  55»' 
Hodson  River,  71-2,  75-42,  146-8,  x69«72, 
'87-98,  510,  582.3,  586-7.  IreUnd,  546. 
Kennebec  Valley,  573-4.  Lake-shore,  170, 
ao3-6,  30  r,  310.  Long  Island,  84,  86-93, 
150.4.  Louisville,  333-7.  Mohawk  Valley, 
«97,  «99-ao2,  208.  Mt.  Desert,  275.9,  574- 
Newport,  108.  New  York  to  Boston,  73, 
103,  no,  117,  123,  138,  13 1-9,  149,  «79^«. 
346-54,  580.2  ;  to  Philadelphia,  83,  84,  158, 
167,  173,  389.90, 588-9.  New  Zealand,  567-9. 
Ontario  (oondciised  from  guide),  315-6, 
331-3.  Orange  and  Newark  triangle,  159-63, 
583.  5^-  Outline  tours,  ii-ia,  396-301. 
Philadelphia,  388-90.  Providence  to  Wor- 
cester, 109.  St.  Lawrence  River,  335-30, 
500,  575-  St.  I^uis  to  Boston,  487-8,  535. 
St.  Louis  to  Staunton,  485-6.  San  Fran- 
cisco to  Boston,  475-80.  Scotland,  553-7. 
Seashore,  90,  108,  133,  138-9,  150-8,  374, 
383.  Shenandoah  Valley,  304,  396,  344-51, 
382-4,388,  494,  590.  Springfield,  n5-i28, 
579-80.  Staten  Island,  156-8.  Toronto  to 
Kingston,  295-8,301,306,  318-25.  Wash^ 
ington,  376.  Western  New  York  (con- 
densed from  guide),  331-3,  587.  White 
Mtns.,  575-7.  Yosemite  Valley,  49r-3. 
TOQiiatfl :  Books  of  reports  by,  489,  549, 
673,  683-7,  696.  Clothes  and  equipments 
for,  i6-33.  Duty  of  demanding  that  wheels 
be  classed  as  baggage  by  all  s.  s.  agents, 
59  r.  Freedom  of  choice  as  to  scene  of 
tour,  where  no  extra-baggage  tax  is  levied, 
593.  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,  Oudine  of  my  personal, 

rr-i2,  26-33. 
Towns  named  in  this  book,  Alphabetical  list 

of  3482,  with  8418  references,  xxxv.-lvii. 
Towns    supplying   3300  subscribers  to  this 
book,  Geographical    list   of   887,  765-94; 
index  to,  xx. 
Tow-path  touring,  9,  44,  173,  180,  189,  r9o, 
»93.  i99-ao2,  207-8,  212,  239-42,244-5, 304-5. 
340,  34a-3.  378,  384.  479,  488. 
Trade  Directory  :    Alphabetical  list  of  122 
subscribers  at  whose  offices  this  book  may 
be  consulted,  796^7.    Geographical  list  of 


xxxiv       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


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

Ttade  in  Cyelet :  Agent's  guide  for  the,  679, 
685.  Benefit  received  from  circulation  of 
WheelmoH,  659.  Indifference  to  my  book, 
712.    Statistics  of  1877,  656. 

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

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

TrioycleSy  Index  to  makes  of,  Ixxix. 

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

TrieyoUng:  Books  on,  684-7;  Ladies'  les- 
sons at  Orange,  588.  Long  rides,  509. 
Mileage,  509,  511,  517,  523*  5* 5-^.  53©- 
Radng,  523.  Tours  in  Australia,  562-6; 
England,  534,  543,  S54f  France,  558,  600; 
Italy,  509, 600,  6S7. 

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

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

Unions  (Cyding)  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,  426-73,  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  lod^ng- 
houae,  456.  Eminent  residents,  431,  434, 
464-5, 470-  H istorical  statistics,  433-5, 43 7-8. 
Janitor,  43S,  443,  4S^-8o.  461-2.  Lack  of 
eamaraderut  463.  Pictures,  430,  434. 
Prince  of  Wales's  visit  in  i860,  469-72. 
Sedttsion  of  tenants,  438-9,  454-6,  463-4* 
Servants,  456-8.  Women  residents  and 
visitors,  44  ■-4* 

Valleys  and  Biven,  Index  to,  Ibc. 

Vandalism  and  vanity  in  Mammoth  Cave,  381. 

Velodpeding  in  1869,  390-406. 


Velveteen,  Excelleocet  of ,  19,  ai. 

Vbtbrans,  Statistics  prom  thb,  so^V^f 
xvi. 

Victoria:  Cydisu'  Union,  652.  Journals, 
695-6,  558.  Road  races,  559^.  Subscrib- 
ers, 558,  706,  793-4.    Touring,  560.3,  56s. 

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

Waahington  City  (index,  590.  Ivi). 

Washington  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- 
sake, 494i  497. 

Waterfalls,  Index  to,  Ixi. 

Weather,  Pointera  as  to,  209,  221,  356,  a97- 
300 ;  Summary  of  weather  changes  in  my 
1400  m.  ride,  297-300. 

Whitb  Flannsl  and  NiCKSL  Platk, 
16-22,  ix. 

Wind  as  a  factor  in  riding,  253,  363,  390, 
a97-9i  Sn,  3*6,  556,  570. 

Winter  Whbbling,  246-54,  491,  xii. 

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

Women  {se€  special  index,  Ixxxiii.). 

Xenophon's  fame  as  a  standard,  viii. 

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

Yachting  in  the  Paleocrystic  Sea  (verses),  23. 

Yachtings  by  wheelmen,  504,  532. 

Tale  College :  Advent  of  the  bone-shaker 
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-S*  Class  biographies,  732. 
Class  of  1837,  464.  Directory  of  New 
York  Graduates,  464.  President  Dwight 
on  the  Connecticut  Valley  roads  in  1803, 
127.  (^duates  alluded  to,  25,  X13,  140, 
304,  4*4,  439.  447,  464.  494,  657,  727,  72*, 
732.  Graduates  as  tenants  of  the  Univer- 
sity Building,  465-6.  Harvard's  rivalry,  25, 
256.  Libraries  on  sub.-list,  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  Yeara  at  Yale  " 
(728  pp.,  $2.50),  I  see  that  the  price,  at  same  rate,  would  be  $7- So;  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,  or  $15.    The  pages  of  any  single  chapter  will  be  mailed  for  as  c. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


X3CXV 


In  die  folloinng  list  of  towns  named  in  thU  book,  those  which  the  "  U.  S.  Official  Postal 
Guide  "  designates  as  money-order  offices  are  put  in  full-faced  type ;  and  the  star  (*)  marks  such 
as  are  ooanty-seats.  Towns  outside  the  United  States  hare  their  countries  given  in  italics. 
A  nnmeral  higher  than  764,  shows  that  one  or  more  subscribers  to  the  book  are  catalogued  on  the 
ipedficd  page ;  and  the  numbers  609,  610  refer  alwajrs  to  the  names  of  subscribing  hotels. 


Abbotsboro,  P».,  388.  Abbottstown,  Pa., 
S86.  Aberdeen,  Md.,  497.  Aberdeen,  5^0/., 
555.599.  645.  79a-  Abington,  Eng.,  536. 
Abington,  Md.,  497.  Ahinj^xi,  Ms.,  766. 
Academy,  Pa.,  609,  778.  Adanu,  Ms.,  193, 
700.  Adams  Center,  N.  Y.,  344-s.  Ad- 
amstown,  Pa.,  387.  Addison,  N.  Y.,  2t8. 
•Adel,  la.,  787.  Adelaide,  Ont.,  332.  Ad- 
elaide,  5".  Aus.,  560-5.  Adelong  Crossing, 
N.  S.  W.,  565.  •Adrian,  Mich.,  785.  Ad- 
rianoide,  TVtr.,  .482.  Agawam,  Ms.,  laa, 
128,  146,  179,  180-1,  251,  580.  Agra,  Ind.y 
S72.  Ailsa  Craig,  Ont.^  332.  Airolo,  //., 
552.  •AlEron*  O.,  501,  595,  609,  784.  Ak- 
ron, Pa.,  387.  Alabama,  N.  Y.,  222;  Al- 
amoochy.  N.  J.,  163.  •Albany,  N.  Y.,  11, 
»9.3t,  5«.  75i  7«.  8s,  154,  187,  190-2,  197-8, 
209,  Ml,  378.  47«t  479.  487-8,  501.  507.  523f 
583-4,  593-4,  597,  604,  656,  770.  •Albla,  la., 
501,787-  *AlMon.IlI.,485.  •Albion,  Ind., 
785^  •Albion,  N.  Y.,  217,  222,  488.  Al- 
bttry,  ^.  S.  W.^  564-5.  Alconbury,  Eng.^ 
540-1, 553.  Alden,  N.  Y.,  208, 215,  222.  AI- 
denville.  Pa.,  339.  Aldie,  Va.,  348.  Alexan- 
der, N.Y.,  222.  Alexandria,  Ky.,  590.  •Al- 
enodriikVa..  373,  376,  465-  Alexandria 
Bay,  N.  Y.,  333-4.  Alfred,  Oni.,  328.  Ali- 
abad,  Per.^  571.  Allahabad,  ImL^  572.  Al- 
legany, N.  Y.,  223.  Alleglieny  City,  Pa., 
778.  Allendale,  N.  J.,  169.  Allenford,  d7»/., 
316.  Allentown,  N.  Y.,  220.  •Allentown, 
Pa..  339,  387,  778.  Alliance,  O.,  594-  Al- 
liiton,  Oni.,  316.  Allowaystown,  N.  J.,  521. 
Alhton,  Ms.,  766.  Almond,  N.  Y.,  217, 
218,  223.  Alpine,  N.  J.,  8f,  586.  Alten- 
bmg,  Awt.f  481.  Altnamain,  Eng.^  536. 
Alt  Getting,  G^r.,  481.  Alton,  111.,  501,  594. 
Akon  Bay,  N.  H.,  577.  Altoona,  la.,  479. 
Altoona,  Pa.,  496, 530, 609, 778.  Alvarado, 
CaL,  493.  Alvinston,  Oni.y  332.  Amenia, 
N.Y.,  143,  T46-7,  188.  Ameslniry,  Ms.,  los, 
766.  Amherst,  Ms.,  113, 114,  120, 142, 186, 
5»3.  S79»  7661  Amherst,  N.  S.,  289,  790. 
Amtty,  Or.,  788.  AmityviUe  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
'S<M,  ^4'  Araosville,  Pa.,  379.  Am« 
D,  J/ai.,  545.     Amsterdam,  N.  Y., 


197,  200,  ao8,  216.  Ampthill,  Etfg.f  553. 
Ancaster,  Off/.,  314.  Ancona, //.,552.  An- 
dover,  Ms.,  112,  208,  223,  579,  766.  'An- 
geUca,  N.  Y.,  217.  Angola,  N.  Y.,  479. 
Angora,  7Vr.,  481-2,  792.  Anita  Springs, 
Ky.,  236.  Annapolis,  M  S.,  282,  284-5,  609, 
790.  'Ann  Arbor,  Mich.,  501,  595,  609, 
628,  785.  Annisquam,  Ms.,  512.  Ann- 
▼llle.  Pa.,  343.  Ansonla,  Ct,  139, 140, 142, 
769.  Antietam,  Md.,  352,  384.  Antigonish, 
A^.  S.,  289,  790.  Antwerp,  A/.,  532,  545, 
599.  Antwerp,  N.  Y.,  334.  Apalachin, 
N.  Y.,  218.  Appleton  City,  Mo.,  787. 
•Appomattox,  Va.,  346.  Ararat,  K«ir/.,  560- 
2,566,696.  Arcadia,  Mo.,  528.  Areola,  N. 
J.,  165-6,  169.  Ardroore,  Pa.,  389,  609,  778. 
Argyle,  A'.  S.,  293.  •Argyle,  N.  Y.,  193. 
Arkona,  Oni.,  332.  Arkport,  N.  Y.,  222. 
Arkwright,  Oni.,    316.    Arlington,  Minn., 

787.  Arlon,  Bfl.f  545.  Armada,  Mich., 
785.  Amheim,  Be/.,  545.  Amprior,0»/.,  327. 
Arran,  Oftt.,  315.  Arthur,  C?«/.,  316.  Arva, 
Oni.,  312.  •Asheville,  N.  C,  500.  Ash- 
ford,  Eng.f  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,  111.,  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,  Rtu.,  571.  Astoria  (L.  I.),  N. 
Y.,  28,  32,  97,  98.  153,  584.    •Astoria,  Or., 

788.  •Atchison,  Kan.,  594.  Athol,  Ms., 
488.  579.  Athole,  Sc^.,  556.  Athens, 
N.  Y.,  770.  Atberton,  Oni.,  33a.  Atkin- 
son, 111.,  479*  ^Atlanta,  Ga.,  352,  594,  597. 
Attica,  N.  Y.,  216,  222.  •Aubnm.  Cal., 
476.  •Auburn,  Ind.,  785.  •Auburn  N.Y., 
301,  308,  212,  770.  Auckland,  A^.  Z.,  566, 
567,  568,  794.  Augsburg,  Ger.,  481.  Au- 
gusta, Ky.,  590,  609,  783.  •Augusta,  Me., 
573,  574,  597,  609,  765.  Auma,  Grr.,  552. 
•Austin,  Tex.,  783.  Aurora,  III.,  609,  786. 
Aurora,  N.   Y.,  215.      Aurora,    Otd.,    316. 


Xjucvi       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Auiabls     Chum,    N.    Y.,    sii.      Auxy-Ie- 

ClMteau,  Fr.^  $58.  Avcnal,  VicL,  565. 
Avendalo,  Vkt.t  565.  Avon,  Ct.,  145. 
Avon,  N.  Y.,  323.  Avondale,  N.  J.,  166, 
167,  169,  5S3.  Avondale,  O.,  784.  Avon 
Sprinss,  N.  Y.,  30, 213,  218.  Ayer  Junction, 
Ms.,  128.  Aylmcr,  <?»/.,  315,  3x9,  3271  33»» 
J33,  634.     Ayr,  Oni.^  317.    Ayr,  Scot.,  686. 

Babylon  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  150, 152^  Bad- 
deck,  N.  S.,  289.  Baden,  Ont.,  316-7.  Bad 
Unda,  Wyo. ,  477.  Bainbridge,  N.  Y.,  49S. 
Baku,  /?«*.,  571.  Balcony  Falls,  Va.,  347, 
35a  Baldock,  En^. ,  540.  Baldwin,  111. ,  528. 
Baldwin,  N.  Y.,  1S6.  Bale,  SwiiM,,  599. 
Ballarat,  yict. ,  559,  560-2,  793.  Ballardsville, 
Ky.,236.  •Ballston.N.Y.,  197,208.  Bal- 
timore, Md.,  29,  31,  238,  241-4,  349,  373, 
376-7,390*  4^7*  486-7,  497*  5»3»  S^h  575,  S^S, 
589, 593-4,  609, 62  7-8,  643,  652,  78j.  Bangor, 
^V»64S-  •Baagor,  Me.,  278-9,  397,  515, 
saj.  574,  593*  661,  765.  BarboursTille,  W. 
Va.,  35X.  *Bard8town,  Ky.,  229,  230, 234, 
>37.  5*7. 609,  783.  Bar  Harbor,  Me.,  274, 
278,  279,  5x5,  574.  Barkhamsted,  Ct.,  144. 
Bar-le-Duc,  Fr.,  48a  Barnesville,  Pa.,  245. 
Bamet,  ^v-t  539,  54©,  54*.  Barr,  Col.,  501. 
Bam,  Vl,  578,  766.  Barrie,  Oni.,  316. 
Barrington,  //.  S. ,  288.  Banyfield,  Ont. ,  335. 
BarrjrtowQ,  N.  Y.,  510.  Bartlett,  N..  H., 
S76-7.  Bartleyville,  N.  J.,  164.  Barton,  N. 
Y.,  319.  Bartow,  N.  Y.,  31.  Bartville,  111., 
479.  Basle,  J'fVA^z.,  532, 545, 552.  Batainitx, 
Sltnf.,  4S1.  *Batayia,  N.  Y.,  308,  3x5,  217, 
333,  487,  501,  770.  Bath,  £fi^.,  4,  532,  538, 
544*  55'*  554, 567,  ^45*  79o-  •Bath,  Me. ,  577. 
Bath,  N.  H.,  578.  Bath,  Omt.,  325.  Battle 
Greek,  Mich.,  785.  Battle  Mountain, 
Nev.,  476.  •Bay  City,  Mich.,  785.  Bay- 
6eld,  Om/.,  313,  3»4,  332-  Bayonne,  N.  J,, 
158.  BayRidge(L.  I.),N.  Y.,90,583.  Bay 
Shore  (L.  1.),  N.  Y. ,  xsa.  Bay  Side  (L.  I .), 
N.  Y.,  150.  Bealton,  ^ii/.,333.  Beamsville, 
0/a.,  3x5.  Beard,  Ky.,  236.  Bear  Wallow, 
Ky.,  330.  Beaver  Falla,  Pa.,  5x4-5,  778. 
Beaufort,  Vicf-t  560.  Beaumont,  Oni.,  330. 
Becdes,  Stif',  S39>  Beckct,  Ms.,  X3x,  X93. 
Bedford,  Eng-.,  532,  540,  541,  557,645.  Bed- 
ford, M  S.,  287.  •Bedford.  Pa.,  496,  530, 
609,  778.  Bedfordshire,  Ef$g^.,  533.  Bedford 
Springs,  Pa.,  344,  496.  Beech  Cliff,  Pa., 
778.  Beeston,  Enjg^.,  790.  Beeston  Castle, 
Sffg"',  536.  Bel  Bazaar,  Twr.,  483.  *Bel 
Air,  Md.,  344i  373, 377-    Bela  Palanka,  Tur., 


481.  Belehertown,  Ma.,  r  13, 144,579^  Bel- 
last,/»nf.,  499,645.  •BeUart,Me.,574,765. 
Belfast,  N.  Y.,  3x7,  323.  Belfort,  Fr,,  599. 
Belgrade,  S^rv.,  481.  Belgrave,  Om/.,  33a. 
Belhaven,  Ont.,  316.  Bellefontaioe,  Mo., 
535.  •Belief ontaine,  O.,  501.  BelleviUe, 
N.  J.,  84, 166.  Belleville,  Onf.,  297, 3x7, 319, 
320,  321,  322,  324,  3«5,  3*7,  33«,  635,  789. 
BeUevne,  O. ,  479-  Bellows  Falla,  Vt. ,  1 1, 
29,  31,  1x8, 1 19,  x8i,  183,  X84,  578,  766.  Bell- 
port  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  150, 153.  Bell's  Comers, 
Ofit.t  337.  BellvUle,  O.,  784.  Belmont, 
Cal.,  493.  Belmont,  Me.,  574.  •Belmont, 
N.Y.,323.  Belmont,  Pa.,  339, 389.  Beloit. 
Wis.,  787.  Belone,  Kan.,  485.  •Belvidera. 
111.,  786.  Bemis  Heights,  N.  Y.,  x86,  190U 
Benalla,  Fie/.,  565.  Benares,  /adl,  57a. 
Benkleman,  Neb.,  501.  Bennettsville,  Ind., 
235.  •Bennington,  Vt.,  x86, 191,  193,  594, 
627,766.  Bcowawe,  Nev.,  477.  Berea,0., 
784.  Bergen,  Den.,  599.  Bexgea,  N.  Y., 
215,  223.  Bergen  Point,  N.  J.,  84,156, 158. 
x6S,  169,  583.  Beigerae,  />.,  558.  •Berke- 
ley Springs,  W.  Va.,  496^  Berkhamsted, 
Eh£^.  ,  473 ,  4S0.  Berkshire,  Ms. ,  193.  Berlin, 
Ct.,  128,  136,  X37,  X38, 149, 19X,  581.  Berlin, 
Ger.fAt^f  55*,  646,  651,  697,  793.  Berlin, 
OiU.,  316,  317.  Bemardston,  Ms.,  ji,  38, 
I X9, 182, 576  (723).  Berne,  Svfdte. ,  545.  Bem- 
ville,  Ind.,  485-  •BerryvlUe,  Va.,  344,  383, 
384, 497, 78a.  Berthier,  Ofti.,  330.  Berwick, 
A^.  S.,  285,  393.  Berwlok,  Pa.,  497,  778. 
Berwyn,  Pa.,  389.  Besan^n,  Fr.,  545. 
Bethany.  Ct.,  583.  Bethel,  Me.,  576-7. 
Bethel,  Vt.,  578.  Bethlehem,  N.  H.,  577. 
Bethlehem,  Pa.,  387,  389,  778.  Bethune- 
ville,  N.  v.,  211.  Beverly,  Ms.,  655,677, 
766.  Beverly,  N.  J.,  173,  533,  776.  Bic, 
Qtte.,  32<),  330.  Biddef(nrd,  Me.,  575,  637. 
Biggleswade,  £m£:,  540-1,  557-8,  645.  Billa. 
bong,  M  S,  «^.,  564.5.  Billerica,  Ms.,  113. 
Bingham,  Me.,  573-4.  •Bingham ton,  N. 
Y.,  2x,  38,  31,  306,  3x8,  3x9,  30a,  308, 
337,  338,  340,  501,  637,  770.  Birchton,  Om., 
327.  Bird-in-Hand,  Pa.,  378.  Birdshaw, 
Pa.,  484.  Birjand,  Per.,  571.  •Blrmijigi. 
ham,  Ala. ,  783.  Birmingham,  Ct. ,  139, 140, 
143,  769.  Birmingham,  SHjr-t  480,  533.  539, 
546,  554,  643,  645,  646, 647, 6S4, 688, 695,  790. 
Birr,  OfU.,  3x3.  Bishop's  Gate,  On/.,  333. 
Bishop  Stortford,  En€.,  541.  Bitter  Creek, 
Wyo.,  477.  Blackheath,  Emgr.,  686.  Black 
River,  N.  Y.,  594.    Black  Rock,  N.  Y.,  5a, 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


ZXXVlt 


ao).  Btedemlmrs*  ^<^>  M4>  37^  Blair 
Atbolc,  Sc^.^  536.  BUintown,  N.  J.,  163, 
J07.  Blainvilto,  Pa.»  496^  Blikdey,  P^., 
34>-  Blandiordi  Ms.,  xai,  m8.  Bbinsluird, 
<M.,  33a.  Blaubeaten,  {J^r.,  481.  Bkwen- 
bai:g,  N,  J.,  i7«,  377.  IMoomflrtd,  Ky., 
237.  Bloondlcdd,  N.  J.,  3S,  s^*  'S^*  i59i 
161,776.  Blooaiiiigdale,N.  J.,170.  *Blooill- 
blgton,ni.,50t,5a9,595'6,786.  BlOMtmrg, 
At,  778.  Blae  Boancts,  tPji^.,  328.  Blue 
Canyon,  Cal.,  476.  Blue  Lick  Spring,  Ky., 
233.  Bhw  Stores,  N.  Y.,  19a,  196.  Ely  the, 
Old.,  111.  Boardville,  N.  J.,  170.  Bodmin, 
^•g',  536.  BogaloDg,  AT.  S.  fy.,  561. 
•BoiM  City,  Id.,  609,  788.  Bokhaia,  Xm., 
570L  Bolac,  Kirf.,  561.  Bold  Bridge,  ^Tiy., 
557.  Bologna,  //.,  553.  Bolton,  N.  Y.,  186. 
Bonar,  Em^r-,  536.  Bonn,  {^r.,  697.  Book- 
ham,  /^.  S.  U^.y  565.  Boonsbofo,  Md.,  244, 
349.  Boonton,  N.  J.,  84.  *Bo<mvU]e, 
Mo.,  787.  BoonTille,  N.  Y.,  aoi.  Bor- 
^lenx,  />.,  552, 599, 699.  Bordentown,  N. 
J.,  323,  52a,  609, 776.  Bordentown,  S.Ams.^ 
S6i.  BoRM^^h  Bridge,  Eng.,  554.  Borriao- 
Icigh,  Jrt.,  546.  Boacawen,  N.  H.,  577. 
Boston,  Ind.,  485.  *Boitott,  Ma.,  2,4,  », 
ai»«5-9»  3«,  33f  36,  48,  S«.  5«»  85,  94,  101- 
17, 126.8,  133,  138,  151,  x8i-3,  204>  ao8.  249, 
2S8«o,  276,  279,  282,  288-9,  292-3,  320-2,  324, 
35^  366-7,  370-2,  376,  378,  384,  386,  388,  437f 
43»,  446,  468-71, 473-5»  479-80, 48s,  487-9, 49*1 
499.  500,  503-5,  507-8,  5"-«4,  5«6.i8,  522-6, 
5$a.  57»,  573-4,  577,  S79*>,  S**,  584,  5«7, 
598-4,  597,  600,  602,  607,  609,  615-17,  6«5-7, 
63»,  643-4,  646,  653,  655-8,  662,  664,  668, 
673H.  676-7, 680, 687,  703,  705,  707-8,  711,  712, 
713,  766.  Boston,  Oni.,  33a.  Boaton  Cor- 
nets, N.  Y.,  188.  Bound  Brook,  N.  J.,  167, 
>7*,  377,  776.  Bowmanaville,  O1U.,  319, 
325.  BowmanaviUe,  N.  Y.,  217.  Bowna, 
N.  S.  fV.,  565.  Bowning,  AT.  S.  W.,  566. 
BoQcherville,  Ofit.,  328.  Boulogne,  France, 
599.  •Boseaum,  Mon.,  788.  BnuseTllIe, 
in.,  786.  Braddoek,  Pa.,  485.  Bradford, 
^V-,  5»7.  545.  644-5,  79«>-  Bnktford,  Vt., 
STSw  Brady  Island,  Neb.,  478.  Brampton, 
(hi.,  319.  Branchville,  Ct,  138.  Branch- 
rille,  N.  J.,  164,  510.  Bnmdon,  Vt.,  579. 
Branfbfd,  Ct.,  jo,  132-3, 149,  511,  769.  Brant- 
fflfd,0»t/.,  314,  317,  33«,  33»,634.  Bnttto- 
horo,  Vt-,  It,  29,  SS.  5«»  "9,  «8a.  «9i.  579, 
«Q9,  766.  •Bnsil,  Ind.,  486.  Bread  Loaf 
(Ian),  Vt.,  578.    Bremen,  Ger.,  592.    Brent- 


wood,  Qd.,  soa  Bresha,  OmL,  316,  317. 
Brewerton,  N.Y.,  335.  Brewster,  N.  Y.,  188. 
Brick  Church,  Md.,  373.  Bxlek  Chtliell,  N. 
J.,  776.  Bridestow,  ^M^.,  536.  Bridgehamp- 
ton  <L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  155.  Bridgeworth,  Bftg., 
536,  554.  •Bildgeport,  Ct.,  30,  51,  133-4, 
138,  158,  237,  448,  249.  485,  491,  500,  769- 
Bridgeton,  Me.,  574,  577-  Bridgetown,  N. 
S.,  284-5.  Bridgewater,  Eng^.,  536,  555-6. 
Bridgewater,  Ms.,  767.    Bridport,  Eh£., 

646.  Brighton,  Em£.,  480,  533,  547,  598, 646, 

647,  682.  Brighton,  Ms.,  29,  31,  107,  109, 
III,  113,  114.  Brighton,  N.  Y.,  770.  Bright- 
on, Oni.,  319,  320,  321,  325,  789.  Bright- 
wood,  D.  C,  349.  376,  497.  Brightwood, 
Ms.,  767.  Brimlield,  Ms.,  129.  Brisbane, 
Qutend.,  652,  793.  Brtitol,  Ct.,  589,  769. 
Bristol,  Eng.,  536,  545,  550-1,  556,  642.  646, 
647,  790W  Bristol,  Pa.,  164, 173, 778.  •Bris- 
tol, R.  I.,  K>7,  108,  MS,  581.  Bristol  Arms, 
Oni.,  319U  Bnokporl,  N.  Y.,  217,  222. 
Broekton,  Ms.,  106,  109,  ita,  516,  767. 
Brooton,  N.  Y. ,  587.  Brockville,  Oni, ,  326-7, 
333.  Brodheadsville,  Pa.,  341.  Bromley, 
Eng.,  790.  Bronico,  //.,  552.  BrookHeUL, 
Ms.,  104,  114-  Brook  Haven  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
150,153.  Brookllno,  M8.,6o9.  Brookljni, 
la.,  479.  •Brookljm,  N.  Y.,  27,  3a,  S3.  57, 
85-9*,  97,  99,  ««>,  "«,  «48,  153,  «5S,  «46, 
252,  524,  583-6,  625,  638,  655,  678,  770W 
BrookvUle,  Md.,  376.  BrookvUle,  Pa.,' 
778.  Brown's  Gap,  Va.,  348.  Brownsboro, 
Ind.,  236.  Brownsboro,  Tex.,  783.  Browna- 
ville,  Md. ,  245.  Brownvrillo,  Pa.,  496, 609, 
778.  Brucefiekl,  OtU.,  313.  Brush,  Col., 
501.  Brushville,  N.  Y.,  214.  Brumfield, 
Ky.,  228,  234.  Bnmswiek,  Me.,  765. 
Brunswidc,  Ger.,  687.  Brussels,  Bel.,  645, 
651,  699.  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa.,  389-90,  495- 
Buangor,  Vict..,  560.  Buckden,  Eng.,  541. 
Bockhom,  OnL,  33a.  Buckingham,  Eng., 
539.  BucUand,  Va.,37S'  Biloksport,Me., 
378,  574.  Bucksville,  Pa.,  497.  ^Bnoynit, 
O.,  488,  784.  Budapest,  Hmtg,,  481,  55«, 
792.  BueMlle,  N.  Y.,  3361  Buffalo,  Ky., 
230.  «BllffftlO,  N.  Y..  9,  12,  28,  50,  52,  178, 
198,  203-6,  ao8,  a  1 4-17,  s»*3,  3i5>  3^7,  3»>, 
321,  475,  479-80,  487-8,  50«.  594,  573,  587- 
8,  594,  609,  617,  6ao,  627,  771.  Buffalo 
Gap,  Va.,  486.  BuH  Run,  Va., 375.  Bunder 
Gut,  ^«tt.,57t.  Bungay,  £'m^.,  539.  Bunin- 
yong,  Vkt.,  559,  03-  Bunker  Hill,  Ms., 
386.    Banker  HUl,  Va.,  348,  388.    Bureau, 


xxxviii     TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


III.,  489.  Burford,  Oni.^  317.  Bani;o7De, 
Omt.,  315-16.  Burke,  N.  Y.,  771.  *Blirlillg- 
ton,  la. ,  485-6, 787-  Biirlin|rto&,  N .  J. ,  390, 
5aa.  'Burlington,  Vt.,  578,  594-5»  766. 
Burntisland,  Scot.t  536.  Bury,  Eng.^  j<)o. 
Bury  St.  Edmunds,  En£.,  645,  79a  Bush- 
kill,  Pa.,  ao7,  399.  341*  497-  Binhnell, 
111..  485-6.  Butte,  Mont.,  788.  Byron  Center, 
N.  Y.,  215. 

Cabin  John  Bridge,  D.  C,  376,  497.  Ca- 
couna,  0/U.,  339-30.  Cahir,  Irt.,  546. 
•Cairo,  111.,  595-  Calais,  />.,  558*  599- 
•GalAis,  Me.,  26a-8,  573, 609,  765.  Calcutta, 
/W.,  57x-a.  Caldwell,  N.  J.,  58,  i6i-a, 
609,776.  Caldwell,  N.  Y.,  xi,  39,  32,  186, 
191-2,  211,  510,  771.  Caledonia,  N.  Y., 
to8,  222.  Caledonia,  £?»/.,  332.  Caledonia 
Springs,  Oni.,  327-8.  Calistoga,  Cal.,  490. 
Callan,  /r^.,  79a.  Calumet,  Mich.,  785. 
Camac  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  158.  Cambridge, 
Eng:.,  533, 539, 541, 544, 557,646, 790-  •Cam- 
bridge, Ms.,  29,  51,  loi,  103,  113,  402-3, 
435.  485,  5<7,  627,  657,  767.  Cambridge, 
N.  Y.,  193.  Cambridge,  O.,  245-  Cam- 
bridgeport,  Ms. ,  5 16, 517,  767-  *Camden, 
N.  J.,  173,  a  18,  389-90,  521-2, 776.  Camden, 
M  S.  W.,  565.6.  Cameron,  N.  Y.,  a  18. 
Camillus,  N.  Y.,  208,  ata.  Campbellsburg, 
Ind.,  336.  Campbellton,  Ont.f  329.  Camp- 
belltown,  N.  S.  fK.,  565.  Campbelltown, 
7<M.,  564.  Camperdown,  Vict.^  559-6o. 
Campobello,  N.  ^.,270,  279.  Campton  Vil- 
lage, N.  H.,  577.  Canaan  Four  Comers, 
N.  Y.,  148.  Canaan,  Ct.,  700.  Canaan, 
N.  Y.,  197.  'Canandaigua,  N.  Y.,  28, 
30,  3»,  33.  58,  »oi-2,  2o8<  212,  ai3,  397,  479. 

488,  772.  Canajoharie,  N.  Y.,  200.  Can- 
aetota,  N.  Y.,  308,  336.  Candleman's 
Ferry,  Va.,  383,  497-  Caneadea,  N.  Y., 
3X4. 2x7.  Canisteo^  N.  Y.,  2x7,  2x8. 
Canmer,  Ky.,  230.  Canterbury,  N.  Y.,  510. 
Canterbury,  Eng.,  530,  687.  Canton,  CA/., 
57a.  Canton,  Ct.,  145.  Canton,  111.,  786. 
•Canton,  O.,  50X,  595,  609,  784.  Canton, 
Ms.,  27.  Canton,.  Pa.,  499,  778.  Cape 
Town,  5".  A/.,  696.  Capon  Springs.  W.  Va., 
495-7«  Cap  Rouge,  Qm.^  330.  Capua,  //., 
552.  Caramut,  VicL,  561.  Carbon,  Wyo., 
477.  Carbondale,  Pa.,  340.  Cardiff,  i?»t^., 
683,  790.  Caribridge,  Scat.,  556.  Carlin, 
Nev.,  477.  Cariisle,  Eng.,  545,  554,  643, 
687.  •Carliale.  Pa.,  45. 303, 344.  485.  Car- 
k>w,   OtU.,   3x5.      Carlstadt,    N.    J.,  83-4, 


166-7, 588.  *Canni,  111.,  786.  Carpenter,  Pa., 
778.  Camavon,  Eitg.^  79a.  *Car80n,  Nev  , 
478.  Carter,  Wyo.,  477,  48a  Carrollton, 
N.  Y.,  333.  Caaey,  la.,  478.  Cashel,  /re., 
546.  Caeaadaga,  N.  Y..  587,  773.  Caia- 
burn  Comers,  Omt.,  328.  Castile,  N.  Y., 
323.  Castlemaine,  K«r/.,  560-x.  Castle- 
martyr, /r«.,  546,  793.  Castleton.  N.  Y., 
X48,  X90,  197.  Castleton,  Vt.,  184.  Ca»- 
tres,  Er.,  552.  Castroville,  Cal.,  490U 
Catford  Hill,  Engr.t  79o.  Caihcart,  Oni., 
317.  *CatlettBburg,  Ky.,  486,  590.  C»- 
tonsTille,  Md.,  373.  •CataUll,  N.  Y., 
187-8, 19X,  198.  Cattaraugus,  N.  Y.,  333. 
Catterick,  Eng.,  545.  Cauheme,  Rotum., 
481.  Cave  City,  Ky.,  31,  231-3,  234,  597f 
609,  783.  Cawnpore,  Ind.f  57a.  Caxton, 
Eng.,  540-1.  Cayuga,  N.  Y.,  33, 208.  Case- 
novla,  N.  Y.,  43,  2x9.  296,  298,  302,  336, 
609,  773.  Cedar  Grove,  N.  J,  x66u  Cedar 
Rapids,  la.,  594.  Center  Harbor,  N.  H., 
576.  Centerport  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  X5X.  Cen- 
tertown,  Mo.,  485.  Centerville,  Cal.,  493. 
Centerville,  Ct.,  135,  X38,  149,  349,  581. 
Centerville,  Ky.,  233.  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,  390W  Chaplin,  Ky.,  337. 
•Chambersburg,  Pa.,  303,  344,  485,  49S, 
497-8,  609.  778.  Champaign,  111.,  786. 
Chancellorsville,  Va.,  347,  352.  Chao-choo- 
foo,  CA/.,  572.  Chappaqua,  N.  Y.,  76. 
Charing  Cross,  ifMr^.,  531.  Charing  Cross, 
^m/.,  332.  'Chariton,  la.,  787.  Charles- 
bourg,  OrU.,  330.  ocharleston.  111.,  786. 
'Charleston,  S.  C,  355.  'Charleston, 
W.  Va.,  351.  Charlestown,  Ind.,  335. 
Charlestown,  Ms.,  767.  Charlestown, 
N.  H.,  575^.  •Charlestown,  W.  Va., 
383-4.  •Charlotte,  N.  C,  500.  78a.  Chaiw 
lotle,  N.  Y.,  333.  Chariottetown,  P.  E.  /., 
289-9X,  593.  •Charlottesville,  Va.,  348, 
350-1.  Chartiers,  Pa.,594.  Chateau  Richer, 
Que.,  33a  Chatham,  Eng.^  598.  Chatham, 
N.  J.,  163,  174,  776.  Chatham,  N.  Y.,  148, 
»97,  500,  609,  772.  Chatham,  Ont.f  331-a. 
Chatsworth,  Oni,,  316.  •Chattanooga, 
Tenn.,  501,  783.  Chautauqua,  N.  Y.,  223. 
587.  •Cheboygan.  Mich.,  785.  Chelms- 
ford, Eni.f  645.  Chelsea,  Ms.,  525,  530, 
663.  767.  Chelsea,  Omt.t  337.  •Chelsea, 
Vt.,  578.    Chemnitz,  Gtr.,  552.    Chemung. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


xzxiz 


N.  v.,  ai&  Cbouuieo  Forict,  N.  Y.,  336^ 
Cherbourg,  Fr.,  599.  Chefllilre,  Ct.,  30,  31, 
A  «34-5t  «3*-^  »50.  58*.  609.  769-  Chesh- 
ire, £Mg,,  645-6.  Cheshire,  Me.,  193. 
(hesterville,  ID.,  485.  Chestnut  Hill  Reeer- 
voir,  Ms.,  39,  114.  Chester,  Sitg.,  539. 
Chester,  Ms.,  lai,  194.  Chester,  N.  J., 
173.  Chester,  N,  S.,  288,  293.  Chester, 
N.  Y-,  340,  $87.  Chatter,  Pa.,  244,  37a, 
JHt  390.  778.  CbaBtarton,  Ind.,  479. 
Chetkamp,  ^.  5*.,  289.  *Gheyeime,  Wyo., 
475.  478, 489,  609, 628,  788.  •Ohifiago,  111., 
«,  a«.  30,  3"i  33.  38,  SO,  6x,  113,  223,  225,231, 
»43.  a4Sf  a96,  3«o,  3".  3»4,  3i7.  3*o-«,  324, 
4*6,  436,  474,  475,  47*^»  487-9.  499.  5o«. 
506,  S08,  5»7-«9,  5«S-4,  5*9.  574.  585,  594-6, 
598,  616,  627,  643,  655,  672,  677,  679,  683, 
711,  712,  786.  Chichester,  Eng-',  694. 
Chifiopee,  Ms.,  31,  38, 118,  123-6, 181,  580, 
767.  Ghleopee  Falls,  Ms.,  124.5,  i8x,  767. 
Chiltcni,  Vici.y  565.  Chinese  Camp,  Cal., 
491.  CMtUmangO,  N.  Y.,  336,  488.  Chit- 
tenden, Ky.,  225.  Christchurch,  N.  Z., 
567-9,  652,  696,  794.  Christiania,  //^r.,  70a 
Churchviile,  N.  Y.,  215.  Churohville, 
Md.,  373.  Cicero,  N.  Y.,  335.  •Cincin- 
nati, O.,  31-3.  "3.  "3,  *«5-6,  234,  488, 
50«,  594,  595,  597,  678,  784.  Cindnnatus, 
H.  Y.,  336-7,  772.  Cinnaminson,  N.  J., 
776.  Cirencester,  ^M^.,  790.  Clacton,^ at^., 
S59.  Clandeboye,  C>M/.,  312-13,332.  Clap- 
toii,^v,  534.  Claremont,  N.  H.,  574, 579. 
Clarence,  Eugr.,  544.  Clarence,  OmLj  327-8. 
Cbrendoo,  Ont.f  338.  Clarendon,  f^jr/., 
559-  •Clarion,  Pa.,  778.  Clark's  Ferry, 
Pa.,  496.  Clark*8  Summit,  Pa.,  34T.  Clarks- 
ville,  Md.,  373,  376,  497.  Clarkavllle,  Mo., 
322.  Clashmore  Inn,  Scoi.^  536,  555.  Clav- 
erack,  N.  Y.,  197.  Clay  Center,  Kan., 
485-6.  •Clearfield,  Pa.,  204,  530,  593,  609, 
778.  dear  Spring,  Md.,  343,  344.  Clear- 
ville,  On/.f  310-12,  314.  Clearville,  Pa.,  496. 
Uemensport,  AT.  S.,  285.  Clermont,  N.  Y., 
i«A    •Cleveland,  O.,  315,  479,  487-8,  5<», 

5o«.  5*6,  59»,  594-5.  627,  643-5,  784-  Clcve- 
Und's  MUi,  Cal.,  490.  Clifton  (S.  I.),  N.  Y., 
377-  Clifton  Vorge,  Va.,  350.  Clinton, 
Ct,  (32.  Clinton,  Ms.,  128.  Clinton, 
N.  Y.,  77a.  CDnton,  Oni.,  313,  315,  332. 
aipper  Gap,  Cal.,  476,  480.  Coster,  N.  J., 
8a  Cloudman.  Cal.,  491.  Cloverdale, 
Cal.,  490W  Clyde,  N.  Y.,  488.  Clyde, 
iY.  5..  293.    OmU  Dale,  Pa.,  778.     Coatee- 


▼ille.  Pa.,  388,  495-  Coblentz,  Gtr.,  545. 
CobcuTK.  Onl.,  198,  304,  297,3x941, 3>3,3>5i 
523.  Cochecton,  N.  Y.,  57a  Cockshntt, 
OfU.,  333.  Coffee  Run,  Pa.,  244-  Cohasset, 
Ms.,  112.  Cohoee,  N.  Y.,  191-3,  773.  Co- 
he,  N.  S.  W.,  561,  565.  Colac,  Vict.,  560-1, 
563.  Colbome,  Qui.,  319,  325.  Colchester, 
EHi^.,  541,  647.  Coldbrook,  Ms.,  579. 
Gold  Spring,  N.  Y.,  194,  197,  50a  Cold 
Spring  Harbor  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  28,  584.  77a- 
•Coldwater,  Mich.,  785.  Colebrook,  Ct., 
144,  146.  Coleraine,  Ms.,  579.  Colesville, 
Md.,  376, 497.  Colfax,  Cal.,  476.  Colfax, 
la.,  479-  College  Hill,  O.,  784.  CoUinsby. 
OtU.,  3*5-  Collingswood,  OrU.,  316.  Col- 
Unsville,  Ct.,  145.  •Colorado  Springe, 
Col.,  788.  Colosse,  N.  Y.,  335.  Columbia, 
N.  J.,  164.  ColnmUa,  Pa.,  317,  378,  386, 
388-9,  486,  499,  609, 77S.    •Columbia,  S.  C, 

782.  •Columbua,  Ga.,  782.  •Colnmtnis, 
Ind.,  785.  •Columbus,  Miss.,  783.  Co- 
lumbus, N.  Y.,  587.  •Colnmlnia,  O.,  245, 
487-8,  501,  595,  627,  784.  Concord,  Ms., 
103, 112,  597, 767.  •Concord,  N.  H.,  576-7, 
766.  Conewango,  N.  Y.,  223.  Coney  Island, 
N.  Y,  27.  Conneant,  O.,  479-  Ckin- 
nelleviUe,  Pa.,  496.  Conrad's  Store,  Ya., 
348.  Conroy,  Ont.,  332.  Conahohooken, 
Pa.,  389.  Constance,  57Cf«te.,  552.  Constan- 
tinople, Tur.,  474.  480-3,  552,  571,  609,  792. 
Conway,  Ms.,  767.  Conway,  N.  H.,  515, 
577.  Conyngham,  Pa.,  498.  Qomo,  Itafy, 
468.  Como,  Oni.,  328.  Cook's  Bay,  Omt., 
316.  Coolatoo,  Vict.,  56a  Cookston,  Ont., 
316.  Cooksvi]]e,<9x/.,  318-19.  Cooma,Ca]., 
492.  •Cooperstown,  N.  Y.,  197,  215,  378. 
Goopentown,  Pa.,  389.  Copake  Falls, 
N.  y.,  188.  Copenhagen,  Dm.,  599,  645. 
Cordelia,  Cal.,  491.  Corinne,  Utah,  477. 
•Corinth,  Miss.,  352.  Cork,  /ry.,  546,  645. 
•Coming,  N.  Y.,  30,  2x6-19,  50X,  772.  Cor- 
nish, N.  H.,  577.  Cornwall,  Ct,  143. 
Cornwall,  N.  Y.,  171, 194, 197, 77a.  Cornwall, 
Oni.^  327.  Cornwall,  Vt.,  579.  Cornwall 
Bridge,  Ct.,  510.  Comwall-on-Hndson, 
N.  Y.,  609,  772.    •Corpus  Christ!,  Tex., 

783.  Corry,  Pa.,  587,  609,  778.  •Cort- 
land, N.  Y.,  772.  •Corydon,  Ind.,  235. 
Cote  St.  Antoine,  Qiu.,  328.  Cote  St.  Lnke, 
Que.,  328.  Coteaudu  Lac,  Que.,  575.  Cot- 
tage, N.  Y.,  223.  •CooneU  Binffi,  la., 
478,  489,  595.  Court  House  Station  (S.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  155.    Courthmd,  OtU.,  332.    Cove»> 


xl 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


trf,  Enf.,  480,  S33,  546,  S5>*  5S4>  557>  654, 
6»3,  688,  690, 693, 694-6»  790.  *Ooyingtoa, 
Ky.,  30,  »a5»  35 <»  59o.  678,  783.  •Goving- 
Xmu  Va.,  486.  CozMoUe,  N.  Y.»  190. 
Coyote,  Cal.,  49>-  Craig's  Meadows,  Pa., 
341.  Cranberry,  O.,  488.  Craoe's  Flats, 
CaU,  49«-  Crane's  Village,  N.  Y.,  479. 
Crawford,  Scot.f  556,  576.  Crawfoi^  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.,  480,  533,  790.  Crown  Point,  N.  Y., 
186.  Crum's  Point,  Ind.,  479.  Cuddeback- 
ville,  N. Y.,  340,  587.  Culbertson,  Neb.,  501. 
*Culpeper»  Va.,  348,  350.  *Cuml)erlaaii, 
Md.,  12,  29,  31,  238,  240-46,  782.  Curwens- 
yillc.  Pa.,  609,  778, 

•Dallas,  Tex.,  628.  DaltoD,Ms.,i2i,i93. 
Dalton,  N.  Y.,  222.  Dalwhinnie,  Scat., 
556.  Damascus,  Md.,  376.  *Danbury,  Ct., 
769.  Panforth,  Ont,  316.  Danaville,  N. 
Y.,  33,  213-14,  218,  772.  •Danville,  111., 
489.  Danville,  N.  J.,  164.  Danville,  Pa., 
778.  Darby,  Pa.,  372,  390.  Darien,  Cl, 
<>39>  248.  Darkesville,  W.  Va.,  244.  Dar- 
lington, yict.,  559.  Darniian,  Ptr.,  571. 
Dauphin,  Pa.,  496.  *Davenport,  la.,  478> 
9, 489.  Daventry,  Eng.,  556.  DaviflviUe, 
CaL,  490-1.  Dayton,  Ky.,  628,  783.  •Day- 
ton, O.,  501,  594-5.  784.  Dayton,  N.  Y., 
221,    223,    772.     Dealton,    Ont.,    310,    332. 

•Deoatnr,  111.,  485-6.  •Dedham,  Ms.,  29, 
33,  102,  107,  1x2.  Dcerfield,  Ms.,  119,  182, 
579,  767.  Deer  Park,  Md.,  486.  Deeth, 
Nev.,  480.  *Deflance,  O.,  609,  784.  De 
Kalb,  N.  Y.,  334-  •Delaware,  O.,  784- 
Delaware,  Ont.,  331,  33a.  Delaware  Water 
Gap,  Pa.,  28,  163-4,  172.  '89,  207,  341,  378, 
497,  Delfshaven,  Hoi.,  553.  Delhi,  Ind., 
572.  •Delhi,  N.  Y.,  497-8.  Delhi,  Ont., 
332.  Delle,  France,  599.  De  Mossvitle, 
Ky.,  590.  Dennlaon,  O.,  784.  Dennyi- 
vllle.  Me.,  264,  266,  271.  *Denver,  Col., 
501,  628,  788.  Denville,  N.  J.,  163,  170, 
207.  Detby,  Ct.,  140,  142,  769.  Derby, 
Eng.,  539,  645-6,  790.  Derringalluni,  f^ict., 
560.  Deacbambault,  Qtu.,  575.  •Dea 
Hoinea,  la.,  479*  489,  595,  787.  'Detroit, 
Mich.,  21, 48,  204,  210,  225,  296-8, 300,304-5, 
3»i.  3»5f  3«»-3.  333»  505.  59*.  594-5»  62$, 
628,  677,  785.  Devon,  Pa.,  389,  609,  778. 
De  Witt,  Neb.,  485.  De  Witt,  N.  Y.,  479- 
Deztas,  Me.,  siSi  S74»  765-    Dcxterville,  N. 


Y.,  2S3.  Dieppe,  Fr.,  489,  552,  599,  600. 
Digby,  N.  S,,  28a,  J84-5,  592.  Dingimui** 
Ferry,  Pa.,  164.  Dingwall,  Sc4rt.,  556. 
Disco,  111.,  485-6.  Diss,  Eng.,  538,  790^ 
DUon,  Cal.,  49f.  DoMw  Verry,  N.  Y.^ 
77-9.  Docking,  Eitg.,  537-8.  DodgevsUe, 
Ms.,  107.  DoDcaster,  E^g.,  539-40,  790. 
Dorehetter,  Ms.,  517.8,  527,  767.  Dorset, 
Eng.f  646.  Dorval,  Otti.,  328.  Doflhan 
Tepe,  /•«-,,  483.  Doup's  Point,  Ky.,  236. 
•Dover,  Del.,  781.  Dover,  Eng.,  551,  598- 
9.  •Dover,  N.  H.,  575.  Dover,  N.  J., 
>63-4>  173-  Dover  Plaina,  N.  Y.,  582. 
Dover  Point,  Me.,  575.  Downingtown, 
Pa.,  389.  •Doylestown,  Pa.,  77&  Drake»- 
town,  N.  J.,  164.  Drakesville,  N.  J.,  163, 
207.  Dreaney's  Corners,  Oni.,  324.  Dres- 
den, Ger.,  iz4»  437-  Drifton,  Pa..  497-9- 
Dublin,  Jre.,  642,  645-6,  652,  654,  686,  695, 
792.  Dublin,  Ont.,  313.  Dulaney,  Kan., 
788.  Dulaney,  Ky.,  783.  •Dultttti,  Mmo., 
787.  Dumfries,  Scai.,  554-5.  645,  686. 
Dana  Penlele,  //mm.,  481.  Duua  Szekeao, 
^MM.,  481.  Dunbar,  5'^v^.,  554.  Dondiurdi, 
Eng.,sS7'  Dundas,Oii/.,  318.  Dundee,  ^r^/., 
792.  Duncan,  Neb.,  478.  Duneannon, 
Pa.,  496.  Dunedin,  N.  Z.,  567,  652,  794. 
Dunellen,  N.  J.,  172.  Dungarvan, /rv.,  546. 
Dunkdd,  Oni.,  3x5-  Dunkirk,  N.  Y.,  28, 
31,  58,  223,  772.  Dunstable,  Eng,,  541. 
Durham,  Eng.,  545,  645.  Durham,  Owt., 
316.  Dusseklorf,  G^r.,  545.  Dutdh  Flat, 
Cal.,  476. 

Eagle,  Ont.,  312.  Eal'mg,  Eng.,  790. 
Karlham,  la.,  479.  E.  Almond  Centre, 
N.  Y. ,  2 1 7.  E.  Attleboro,  Ms. ,  107.  S.  Aa-^ 
rora.  N.  Y.,  208,  222.  £.  Avon,  N.  Y., 
213,  216.  £.  Berlin,  Ct.,  769.  E.  Bethel, 
Vt.,  578.  E.  Bloom6eld,  N.  Y.,  202,212, 
216,218.  Eastbourne,  Eng.,  532,  S44>  79Q^ 
E.  Brimfield,  Ms.,  767.  £.  Brookfield,  Ma., 
no,  128.  E.  Brookfield,  Vt.,  578.  £. 
Bridgewater,  Ms.,  376.  E.  Cambridge,  Ms., 
767.  E.  Canaan,  Ct.,  146.  £.  Chatham, 
N.  Y.,  148,  208.  E.  Fryeburg,  Me.,  577. 
E.  Gainesville,  N.  Y.,  222.  E.  Greenvkich, 
N.  Y.,  193.  'S.  Greenvrieh,  R.  I.,  513. 
581,  769.  Bacthampton,  Ms.,  1x8-20,  580, 
767.  E.  Hartford,  Ct.,  123,  149,  582.  E. 
Haven,  Ct.,  149.  £.  Lee,  Ms.,  148,208.  E. 
Leon,  N.  Y.,  223.  E.  Longmeadow,  Ms., 
124-5,  254>  580.  E.  Long  Branch,  N.  J., 
776.    £.  Lyme,  Ct.,  131.    E.   Lynde,  Pa., 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


xli 


387.  fi»  Machiaay  Me.,  171.  Eastman 
Sprii^,  Ont.,^^.  £.  New  York  (L.  I.), 
584.  E.  Northwood,  N.  H.,  577.  E.  Or- 
ange, N.  J.,  50S,  5S8f  6431  776.  *£astoxi, 
Md.,  593.  •Kaaton,  Pa.,  173,  34»,  378,  387, 
497»  609,  778-  Bastport,  Me.,  357-8,  a6o, 
a6s,  a67-S,  274,  a76,  879,  383-3,  573,  592. 
&  Portlaiul,  Or.,  788.  £.  Providence, 
R.  I.,  107.  E.  Randolph,  Vt.,  578.  E. 
Rochester,  N.  H.,  525,  654-5,  670,  766. 
£.  Saginaw,  Mich.,  785.  E.  Schodack, 
N.  Y.,  ao8.  E.  Springfield,  Pa.,  205.  E. 
Scroudsburg,  Pa.,  341.  E.  Tarrytown,  N.  Y., 
76.  E.  Walllngford,  Vt.,  S79-  E.  Windsor 
Hm,  Cl,  133,  254,  769.  Eastwood,  Oni.^ 
317.  Eaton-Socon,  EHg.^  540-41.  Echo, 
Utah,  477.  Echuca,  Vkt.^  560.  Eckley, 
CoL,  501.  Eddington,  Vict.^  566.  Eden 
Center,  N.  Y.,  223.  Edgertoxi,  O.,  479. 
Edgewater,  N.  J.,  8z,  83.  Edinburgh,  ScoL^ 
513-4,  544,  554-6,  599,  642,  645-7,  686,  792. 
Edinburg,  Va.,  346,  388.  Edward's  Comer, 
N.  Y.,  aa3.  Edward's  Ferry,  Va.,  497.  Eid- 
wardville,  Ind.,  335.  Edwardsville,  Kan., 
485.  ^Efflngham,  111.,  48S.  Eggerstown, 
IIL,  488.  Eketahuna,  A^.  Z,y  568.  Elaine, 
^v/.,  559.  Elbeuf,  Fr.^  480.  Elbridge, 
N.  Y.,  aoS,  312.  BlglD,  lU.,  786.  *Sllzar 
heth,  N.  J.,  156,  158, 164,  167,  172, 17s,  177, 
583,  637,  776.  Elizabethport,  N.  J. ,  29,  32, 
156,  158,  5S3.  *EUzab«thtowii,  Ky.,  237. 
EUaftbeihtown,  N.  Y.,  211.  Elk  Grove, 
Cal.,  491.  Elkhom,  Neb.,  489.  *£lko, 
Nev.,  477.  •Klkton,  Md.,  244,  37^,  497- 
•SUioott  City,  Md.,  349,  373,  376-7,  497. 
EUiagton,  Eng.^  540.  Ellington,  N.  Y., 
223,  773.  Ellis,  Ms.,  107.  ^Ellsworth, 
Me.,  278,  574.  Elmira,  Cal.,  476.  49». 
•Slmira,  N.  Y.,  216,  218,  501,  594,  772. 
Elmsford,  N.  Y.,  75,  76.  Elmwood,  Ct., 
136-7,350.  Elsinore,  0«/.,3i6.  Ely,  i?«^., 
Sja,  539^  •Elyrla,  O.,  479, 609,  784.  Elze, 
Gtr,,  523.  Emmitaburg,  Md.,  385,  388. 
*Bmporia,  Kan.,  660,  78S.  Enfiekl.  Ct., 
253.  Enfield,  Eng.^  790.  Enfield,  Ms.,  123, 
13$,  i8x,  5S0L  Englawood,  N.  J.,  30,  5», 
Bo-i,  84,  166-8.  Ennis,  Irt.y  646.  Ennis- 
keHen,  (?»/.,  315.  Ephrauh,  Pa.,  387.  Ep- 
pbg,  Eng.f  5S9-40-  Eramosa,  OiU,^  318. 
*Sri0,  Pa.,  12,  28,  31,  50,  58,  85,  2oa,  204-6, 
»",3'«»3«7,  487-*,  5o«,  594-5-  Erin,  0«/., 
316.  Erlanger,  Ky.,  225.  Erzeroum,  Tur.^ 
482.    Esbjerg,  Den.,  599.     Eski  Baba,  7W-., 


482.  Essex  Center,  OiU,,  3X0-ZX.  Eszek, 
Slav.,  481.  EUon,  Eng.,  533.  *Sllgene 
City.  Or.,  788.  Evans  Mills.  N.  Y.,  334. 
•Evanatoni  Wyo. ,  477-  'Evansville,  Ind. , 
595.  E verettto  Pa. ,  244, 496.  Exeter,  Eng. , 
533,  536,  554.  •Exeter,  N.  H.,  575,  766. 
Exeter,  OtU.,  313-5,  324,  333.  Eydkuhneu, 
RHs.^fAj.     Eye, -ffwjr.,  539. 

Fabyan  House,  N.  H.,  576-7.  Fakenham, 
^«^-,  537-8.  ^Fairfax  C.  H-,  Va.,  374, 376. 
•Fairfield,  CaL,  491.  Fairfield,  Ct.,  138-9, 
148.243.  Fairfield,  Ky.,  237.   Fairfield,  Me., 

765.  Fairfield,  N.  J.,  84, 169.  Fairfield,  OfU., 
310,789.  FairfieU,  Pa.,  385.  FairfieW,  Va., 
349,  495-  Fair  Haven,  Ct.,  133,  138,  149. 
Fair  Haven,  Vt.,  184.  Fairroount,  Ber., 
362.  Fairmount,  Ind.,  236.  Fairview, 
Md.,  243.  Fairview,  N.  J.,  84.  Fairyland, 
Bsr.y  361.  Falkirk,  Scat.,  404.  Fall  Brook, 
Pa.,  594.  Falling  Waters,  W.  Va.,  344,  348. 
Fall  Elver,  Ms.,  31-2,  85,  loi,  108,  593,  767. 
Falla  Church,  Va.,  374,  376.  Falls  City, 
Pa.,  245.  ^Faribault,  Minn.,  787.  Farm- 
ers' Crossing,  Ky.,  485-6.  Farmersville,  Ms., 
109.  Farmingdale  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  58,  150-3. 
Farmington,  Cal. ,  49 1-2-  Farmlngton,  Ct. , 
137,  MS,  U9,  581.  Farmington,  N.  H., 
576-7.  Farms  Village,  Ct.,  X45.  Farnbor- 
ough  Station,  Eng,,  646.  Farrah,  A/g., 
571.  Farringdon,  Eng.,  532.  Father  Point, 
Que.,  329.  Fayette,  N.  Y.,  336.  Fayette- 
viUc,  Pa.,  495.  Featherston,  N.  Z.,  56S-9. 
Feeding  Hills,  Ms.,  123,  125-6,  144,  146. 
Fergus,  Ont.,  316.  *Fenuuidina,  Fla., 
597,  628,  783.  Fern  Creek,  Ky.,  236.  Field- 
ing, N.  Z.,  568.  Fife,  Scot.,  792.  Fillmore, 
N.  Y.,  217.  Finchville,  Ky.,  33^  Finchley, 
^'^e- y  53  »-2-  •Findlay,  O. ,  488, 784.  Fish- 
er's Hill,  Va.,  345,  49S.  FishersviUe,  Ms., 
109.  Fishkill-on-Hudflon,  N.  Y.,  194-5, 
258,  582.  *Fitchburg,  Ms.,  114,  500,  523, 
579,  594,  597,  767.    Fitzwilliam,  N.  H., 

766.  Five  Stakes,  Ont.,  312.  Flanders,  Ct., 
131.  Flanders,  N.  J.,  164.  Flatts,  Ber., 
359-61,  366.  *Flemington,  N.  J.,  733. 
Flesherton,  O1U.,  3x6.  Flint,  Eng.,  645. 
•Flint,  Mich.,  595.  Florence,  //.,  4291  55*- 
Florence,  Ky.,  325.    Florence,  Ms.,  119, 

767.  Florida,  N.  Y.,  772.  Florin,  Pa.,  779. 
Floyd,  N.  Y.,  210.  Flume,  N.  H.,  The,  61, 
576.  Flushing  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  12.  29,  31-3, 
51-2,  90-1,  152-3,  155,  772.  Foggia,  //.,  552. 
Folkestone,  Eng.,   599.      •Fonda»  N.  Y., 


xlii 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


soo,  9o8y  ait.  Fontenoy,  Fr.^  48a  Foot»- 
cray,  VicLj  559.  Fordham,  N.  Y.,  72,  772. 
Fordham  Landing,  N.  Y.,  583.  Fordwich, 
Oni.,  314.  Forest  Hill,  Eng.,  645-  Forks 
of  Kennebec,.  Me.,  573-4.  Forres,  Scot.^ 
645.  Forrest,  Ont.,  332.  Ft.  Albert,  Ber.^ 
360.  Pt.Bridger,Wyo.,477-  *Ft  Dodge, 
la.,  59S.  Ft.  Edward,  N.  Y.,  29,  51,58, 
189,191-3.  Ft.  Hamilton,  N.  Y.,90.  Ft. 
Hunter,  N.  Y.,  200.  Ft.  Jefferson,  Mo., 
484.  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.,  628,  788. 
Ft.  Lee,  N.  J.,  30,  32,  72,  81-5,  165,  583, 
612.  Ft.  Loudon,  Pa.,  485.  Ft.  Miller,  N. 
Y.,  19a  Ft.  Morgan,  Col,  501.  Ft.  Ni- 
agara, N.  Y.,  222.  Ft.  Plain,  N.  Y.,  aoo, 
ao8,  488.  Ft.  Porter,  N.  Y.,  588.  Ft.  St. 
George,  Ar.,  358.  Ft.  St.  George,  N.  Y., 
583.  Ft.  Schuyler,  N.  Y.,  74,  246.  Ft.  Sid- 
ney, Col.,  475.  Ft.  Steele,  Wyo.,  478.  •Ft. 
Wayne,  Ind.,  487,  595,  786.  Ft.  William, 
OtU.,7Si).  Ft.  Worth,  Tex.,  783.  Fostoria, 
O.,  784.  Fowlerville,  N.  Y.,  214.  Fox- 
boro',  Ms.,  107.  FramlTigham,  Ms.,  29, 
51,  113-14,  117,514,680,  767.  Francestown, 
N.  H.,  575.  Franconia,  N.  H.,  576-7. 
Frankford,  Pa.,  3S8-9.  'Frankfort,  Ky., 
51,  225,  232-4.  Frankfort,  N.  Y.,  200. 
Frankfort,  Ger.,  552,  700.  Franklin,  N.  J., 
i6i-2, 169.  Franklin,  N.  Y.,498.  •Frank- 
lin, Tenn.,  352.  Franklin  Falls,  N.  H., 
577-  Franklinvllle,  N.  Y.,  208.  Frank- 
town,  Oxi.^ij.  •Frederick,  Md.,  29,31, 
33»  238,  242-3,  349,  37^7.  487.  Fredericks- 
burg, Ind.,  235.  Fredericksburg,  Va. ,  352. 
Fredericktown,  Ky.,  230.  •Frederick- 
town.  Mo.,  787.  Freedom,  N.  H.,  577. 
Fredonia,  N.  Y.,  50,  205-6,  223,  587,  772. 
Freeport,  Ont.,  316.  Freibourg,  Ger.,  552. 
•Fremont,  Neb.,  478.  •Fremont,  O.,  479. 
Frcssingfield,  Eng".,  539.  Freudenstadt, 
Ger.,  481.  Friendship,  N.  Y.,  223,  772. 
Frizinghall,  Efig-.,  790.  •Front  Bojral, 
Va.,  35X.  Froetbnrg,  Md.,  243.  Frye- 
hnrg.  Me.,  576-7.  Fulda,  Ger.,  552.  Ful- 
lerton,  On/.,  332.  FultonvUle,  N.  Y.,  200. 
Funkstown,  Md.,  244.  Ferriman,  Per.,  571. 
Gainesville,  N.  Y.,  222.  Gainesville,  Va., 
375.  Galena,  Ind.,  235.  Gait,  O/U.,  317, 
324,  491.  •Galveston,  Tex.,  783.  Gam- 
Wer,  O.,  784.  Gananoque,  Ont.,  317,  325-61 
333.  Gang  Mills,  N.  Y.,  2  to.  Gan  pris 
Pau,  Fr.,  702.  Garden  City  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
152, 530.    Gardiner,  Me.,  573.    Gardner, 


Ms.,  579,  767.  •Gamett,  Kan.,  788.  Gar- 
rison's, N.  Y.,  29,  193,  609,  77a.  GarsUDe, 
"^V-»  556.  Garwood,  N.  Y.,  222.  Gasport, 
N.  Y.,  217.  Gateshead-on-Tyne,  Eng.,  79a 
Gauley's  Bridge,  W.  Va.,  351,  486.  Gay- 
lord's  Bridge,  Ct.,  582.  Geddes,  N.  Y., 
201,212.  Geelong,  K/W.,  559-61,  563.  G«l- 
vington,  Ky.,  590.  Ctoneseo,  11L,  479,  489. 
•Geneseo,  N.  Y.,  2x3.  Geneva,  N.  Y., 
20S,  213,  772.  Geneva,  O.,  488.  Geneva, 
Sw/fz.,  545,  Genoa,  111.,  786.  Genoa,  //., 
552.  Georgetown,  b.  C,  12,  241-2,  374, 
376, 497>  782.  •Ctoorgetown,  Ky.,  51,  226, 
333-4-  Ctoorgetown,  N.  Y.,  337.  George- 
town, A'.  S.,  29a  Georgetown,  0«/.,  3x8-19. 
Gera,  Ger.,  551-a.  Germantown,  Ky.,  590L 
Germantown,  AT.  S.  IV.,  565-6.  German- 
town,  N.  Y.,  197, 498.  Germantown,  Pa.,  389, 
779.  Gerry,  N.  Y. ,  587,  772.  •Gettysburg, 
Pa.,  242,  303,  347,  352,  385-6,  388,  486,  495, 
499»  779'  Ghalikue,  i4/5r>»  57  »•  Ghent, 
N.  Y.,  197.  Gilroy,  Cal.,  490,  492-3.  Gi- 
rard.  Pa.,  12,  205-^,  479, 488,  779.  Girtford, 
^"i"'*   540-1.      Glasgow,   Sco/.,   534,  S4S-6f 

555.  645-7»  695,  698,  792.  Glassboro,  N.  J., 
390,  522.  Glenbrook,  Cal.,  490.  Glendale, 
Ms.,  148.  Glenfield,  Pa.,  779.  Glen  House, 
N.  H.,  577.  Glenrowan,  yic/.,  566.  Glen's 
Falls,  N.  Y.,  186,  189,  19T-3,  609,  772. 
Glen  Station,  N.  H.,  577.  Gbnville,  Ct, 
138.  Glenwood,  Md.,  782.  Glenwood,  Pa., 
341.  Gloucester,  Eng^.,  536,  539,  554-7,  645. 
Gloucester,  Ms.,  505,  512,  609,655,674-5, 
767.  Gloucester,  N.  J.,  390,  522.  God- 
erich,  Om/.,  204,  301,  313-5,  ?23-4,  331,  789. 
•Goldendale,  Wash.,  788.  Gold-hill,  CaL, 
476.    Gold  Run,  Cal.,  476.      Golspie,  Scai., 

556.  Gordonsville,  Va.,  348,  350-1.  Gor- 
ham.  Me.,  515.  Gorham,  N.  H.,  576-7. 
Goshen,  Ct.,  143.  •Goshen,  Ind.,  236, 
479.  •Goshen,  N.  Y.,  340,  587.  Goshen, 
Va.,  351,  486.  Gottingen,  G^'.,  522.  Goul- 
burn,  y.  S.  W.,  561,  564-6,  793.  Qonver- 
neur,  N.  Y.,  334.  Govanstown,  Md.,  377. 
Grafton,  Ms.,  103,  378.  Grafton,  Oni.,  319. 
Granby,  Ct.,  145, 581.  'Grand Island,  Neb., 
478,  4S9.  Grand  Metis,  Que.,  329.  Grand 
Pr^,  N.  S.,  284,  286.  'Grand Forks,  Dak., 
609,  78S.  •Grand  Bapids,  Mich.,  505,  519, 
595.  7*5-  Granger,  Wyo.,  477.  Granite- 
ville  (S.  I.),  N.  v.,  157.  Grant,  N.  Y.,  210. 
Grantham,  Eng".,  540-1,  553.  Granville, 
Ms.,    144,    146.     Granville,  ^.    S.,    2S4-5. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


xliii 


Gnvnend,  Em^.^  S99»  Graveaend  (L.  I.)> 
N.  Y.,  90u  Gravois,  Mo.,  535.  *Gr»780il, 
^1'*  35>>48S'  Gray's  Summit,  Mo.,  485-6. 
Oraat  Bunington,  Ms.,  148,  70a  Great 
Bend,  N.  Y.,  aS,  31,  207,  338,  341.  Great 
Berkhamsted,  ^Mff  •>  473f  480.  Great  Bethel, 
Va.,  439*  Greftt  IUIb,  N.  H.,  637,  766w 
Great  Falls,  Va.,  241,  376.  Greenbush, 
N.  v.,  190-1,  197.  *Qzeeiu»stle,  Ind., 
485-6.  Qreencaatle,  Pa.,  46. 296,  303,  344, 
49S-  Graane,  N.  Y.,  336,  498.  *Greexi- 
llidd,  Ms.,  II,  27,  a9,  31,  51,  119,  182-3,  Z94, 
378,  500,  579,  767.  Greenland,  Pa.,  244. 
Greenock,  Scot.^  792.  Cteeenpoint  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,91.  Oreanpoit  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  12, 
a«.  sa-3.  «5o-5-  •Qwen  BiTer,  Wyo.,  477- 
^QraeiiBlniziB,  Jnd.,  786.  ^QreensbiiTg, 
Ky.,  239.  *€breeiuiliiirg.  Pa.,  539,  779. 
Green's  Farms,  Ct.,  138.  Green  Tree,  Pa., 
389.  Greenville,  Ind.,  235.  Greenville,  Me., 
574.  QreenTille,  Mich.,  785.  Greenville, 
N.  J.,  776.  GreenTlUe,  Pa.,  341,  779. 
•Gfae&Tllle  C.  H.,  S.  C.,  782.  Greenville, 
Va.,  349.  Greenwich,  Ct.,  138.9, 248, 581-2, 
609,  769U  Gffeenwleh,  N.  Y.,  772.  Green- 
wood, N.  Y.,  171.  Grenoble,  Fr.,  698. 
Gretna  Green,  Se&e,^  553,  556-7.  Grimsby, 
Oni.^  315.  CMnziel],  la.,  478-9, 787.  Qria- 
WCdd,  la.,  478.  Groton,  Ct.,  153.  Grotto, 
//.,  552.  Grotzka,  Serv.,  481.  Grovcland, 
Cal.,  491.  Groveport,  O.,  785.  Grovesend, 
0$tt.t  331.  Groveton,  CaL,  492.  Groveton, 
N.  H-,  576.  Groveton,  Va.,  375.  Guelph, 
OMi.,  31S-7, 319*  331-  Guildhall  Falls,  N.  H., 
577.  QoUford,  Ct.,  132.  Guillimbury, 
Owi.,  316.  GuU  Mills,  Pa.,  389.  Gundagai, 
y.  S.  H^.,  565-6.  Gunnersbury,  Ettg'.,  645. 
Gunning,  M  S.  JV.^  561,  565-6.  Gutten- 
berg,  N.  J.,  81,  83,  16S.  Guyroard  Springs, 
NY.,  497.    Guysboro.  N.  S.,  2S9. 

•Hankenaeck,  N.  J.,  30, 84, 165.6,  168-9, 
776.  Haokettstowxi,  N.  J.,  164,  173,  776. 
Haddonfield,  N.  J..  390,  522,  776.  Hadley, 
Ms.,  ISO.  *Hagei»Uiwii,  Md.,  39,  338-9, 
a42-5,  303,  344.  346,  348,  350-1,  384,  387-8, 
486.7,  495,  609,  78a.  HagersviUe,  Oni.,  332. 
Halle,  GIrr.,  522.  Halleck,  Nev.,  477.  Hal- 
ifas,  A^.  .S".,  282,  286^,  292-3,  355,  364.5, 592, 
609,  790.  Haigler,  Neb.,  501.  *Haile7, 
Id.,  609,  788.  Hamburg,  Gtr.,  551,  599. 
Hamburg,  Ind.,  235.  Hainbiirg,  N.  Y., 
223.  Hamburg,  ^>>i/.,  317.  Hunburg,  Pa., 
343.    Ilamdeo,  Cl,   134.    Hamilton,  Bfr.^ 


355»  358-9»  i^^-^t  59»,  609,  790.  •Eun^ 
iltoxu  O.,  501,  594-5,  785.  Hamilton,  Ont.t 
314-S,  3i7»  324,  33'-*»  593.  634,  789.  Ham- 
ilton, yic/.,  560^1,  563,  793.  Hamilton, 
Va.,  344,  497>  Hammersmith,  jE^w^.,  551. 
Hammondsville,  N.  Y.,  an.  Hammonton, 
N.  J.,  522.  Hunpton,  N.  H.,  102,  512. 
Hampton  Court,  £n^.,  4t  532,  545,  548. 
Hancoclt,  Md.,  339-40,  343,  344-51  496. 
Hancock,  Vt.,  578.  Hanover,  Ct.,  134. 
Hanover,  Gtr.,  522, 651.  Hanover,  N.  H., 
766.  Hanover,  N.  J.,  163-4.  Hantsport, 
M^.,a86.  Hanwell,  ^M^.,646.  Hanley, 
Ehg"-!  665.  Hardington,  N.  J.,  533.  Har- 
densburg,  Ind.,  335.  Hardwick,  Ms.,  579. 
Harford,  Md.,  377.  Harlem,  N.  Y.,  30, 
32-3,  55.  57.  a49.  583,  612.  772,  774.  Har- 
lingen,  N.  J.,  172.  Harpenden,  Eugr-,  553- 
Harper,  Kan.,  7S8.  Haxper*s  Ferry,  W. 
Va.,  29, 3 1, 240-3, 347-8, 350. 384*  496.  •Har- 
risburg,  Pa.,  244,  303.  343»  35».  496,  498, 
779.  Harrison,  Me.,  574.  ^Harrison- 
bnrg,  Va.,  346^,  382,  388,  497.9,  628,  782. 
*Harrodsburg,  Ky.,  51,  226-7,  234,  236. 
Harrogate,  Enjg:,  636,  642.  Harrold,  E^g"., 
540.    *Haztford,  Ct.,  n,  12,  36-7,  28,  30-a, 

37.  39.  42-3.  46-7,  "8,  123-3,  "5.  "8,  133, 
136-8,  145,  M3-9,  173.  «79-8i,  183,  191,  234, 
a49-5«.  253. 372-3, 377-8. 388,  401,  501,  5»o,  5^3. 
524,  580-2,  593,  609,  615,625,  627-8,  632,655, 
675,  677,  769.  Harud,  -4/^.,  571.  Harwich, 
Enjg:.,  599.  Hastings,  EMg'.^  641,  682. 
*Ha8tlngS,  Minn.,  487.  Hastings,  N.  Y., 
335.  Hastings,  N.  Z.,  569.  Hastings-on- 
Hudson,  N.  Y.,  75,  77,  5S6.  Hatte  Bay, 
Que.t  329.  Hatfield,  Eng:,  540-1,  790.  Hat- 
field, Ms.,  119,  182-3.  Hatton,  Eng.,  543. 
'Havana,  111.,  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,  Ont.,  327.  Haw- 
trey,  Ofti.,  332.  Haydeu's,  Ct.,  31,  181,  251. 
Haydenville,  Ms.,  119,  767.  Haselton, 
Kan.,  7S8.  Hazleton,  Pa.,  498,  779. 
Healdabnrg,  Cat.,  490.  Hebron,  A^.  S., 
283.  Hebronville,  Ms.,  107.  Heda,  Pa., 
498.  Heidelberg,  Ger.,  522,  545,  552. 
•Helena,  Mont.,  788.  Helensburgh,  E/ig'., 
646.  Hempstead  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  138, 150-2, 
154.  'Henderson,  Ky.,  590,  609,  783. 
•Henderson,    Minn.,  787.      Hendrysbuig, 


xliv 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


a,  4S5-  *Heii3l0pi]i,  III,  4S9.  Herat, 
A/g.^  48af  57«-  Hereford,  Bng.^  53^ 
•Hfirkimer,  N.  Y.,  208.  Hermouli,  Rcum., 
481.  Hertford,  Eng.t  540-1.  Hespeler, 
Ottt^t  31  ;•  Hettingen,  Bel.,  545.  Heuvel- 
ton,  N.  Y.,  334-  HicksviHe  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
51,  153-3.  Highgate,  Bn^.^  540.  Highland 
Cf«ek,  Ont.,  319.  Highland  Mills,  N.Y.,  171, 
609,77a.  mghland  Park,  III.,  787.  High- 
lands, N.  Y.,  172,  19S.  High  Top  Gap, 
Va.,  348.  High  Wycombe,  Eng.^  645,  790L 
Hilliard,  Wyo.,  477-  Hillsboro,  N.  H.,  575. 
Ujllsburg,  OnL,  316.  Hillsdale,  N.  Y.,  1^. 
HiU*s  Valley,  Cal.,  490.  Hind  Head,  Bng., 
777.  Hinds  Comers,  Pa.,  339.  Hingham, 
Ms.,  112.  HlnwUle,  Ms.,  121.  HiiwdAle, 
N.  H.,  579.  Hinsdale,  N.  Y.,  152-3. 
Hitchin,  Eng.^  540-1,  557-8.  Hitchcockville, 
Ct.,  144-  Hobart,  7«*.,  560,  563-4,  652, 
794.  Hoboken,  N.  J.,  32,  83.3,  85, 168, 172, 
5^3*  77^'  Hodnet,  Bng.^  555.  Hoffman's 
Ferry,  N.  Y.,  32.  Hoguestown,  Pa.,  343. 
Hohokus,  N.  J.,  169.  Hokitika,  N.  Z., 
569.  Holland,  N.  Y.,  222.  Holland  Patent, 
N.  Y.,  210,  213.  Holland's  Landing,  Oitt., 
3r6.  •SoUliter,  CaL,  492.  Hollteton, 
Ms.,  767.  HoUowviUc,  N.  Y.,  188.  •HoUy 
Springs,  Miss.,  783.  Holmesville,  Ont., 
313.'  Holmsdale,  Scot.t  556.  Holycross, 
/rv. ,  546.  Holyhead,  Emg. ,  686.  Holyoke, 
Ms.,  31,  58,  H7-8,  120,  123-6,  135,  183,  191, 
2S'»  5*4,  5«7.  609.  7^7'  Homar,  Mich.,  323. 
HomeitlMUl,  la.,  479.  Homestead,  N.  J., 
83-4.  Homestead,  Pa.,  779.  *Honatdale, 
P»-.  44,  30a,  339-40,  501.  Hope,  N.  J.,  164. 
Hopedale,  Ms.,  767.  Hoptown,  Cal.,  490. 
Hoosick  Corners,  N.  Y.,  193,  51a  Hootiek 
FUl8,  N.  Y.,  193.  HornellsviUe,  N.  Y., 
30,  216-7,  222.  HoraaheadB,  N.  Y.,  216. 
Horton,  A^.  ^.,  286.  Housatonic,  Ms.,  148. 
•Howard,  Kan.,  788.  Howard,  Minn., 
787.  Huddenifield,  Eng.^  645.  Hudson, 
Col.,  501.  ^Hudson,  N.  Y.,  29, 32,  51,  lai, 
190,  192,  195-8,  258,  488,  510,  609,  772. 
Hudson,  On/.,  32S.  Hughsonville,  N.  Y., 
194-5.  Hulett's  Landing,  M.  Y.,  29,  32. 
Hull,  Oh/.,  327.  Hull,  Eng.,  545,  599- 
Humboldt,  Nev.,  476.  Hummclstown,  Pa., 
343.  Hunter,  N.  Y.,  505.  Hunter's  Point 
(L.  L),  N.  Y.,  28,  31-2,  58,  91,  96-7,  99,  151, 
153.  Huntingdon,  Eng,  539,  541.  *Hunt- 
ingdon.  Pa.,  244,  779.  *HuntingtoD,  Ind., 
786.    Himtlngt(m,  Ms.,  121,  194.    Hant* 


iagtonCL.  L),  N.  Y.,  151.  Harunui,  AT.  Z., 
567-9.  Hutonburg  Comers,  Ofti.,  127. 
HydA  Park,  Ms.,  767.  Hyde  Park, 
N.  Y^  497. 

Icbtiman,  Bamm.,  481.  Idlewild,  N.  Y., 
197.  Dion,  N.  Y.,  200,  208.  •Indapeodp 
enoe,  Mo.,  485-6.  *Indiaaa»  Pa.,  610, 779. 
•Tndianapolia,  Ind.,  485-8,  501,  595,  6ro, 
628,  786.  *fniHanola,  la.,  787.  Indian 
Castle,  N.  Y.,  479.  Indian  Oiohazd,  Ms., 
29,  104,  no,  (17,  124-6, 181,  252.  Ingleaide, 
Ms.,  125.  Ingersoll,  Of$t.,  324,  332.  Inver- 
may,  (?«/.,  316.  Inverness,  Sc^i.,  536,  554. 
Inwood,  N.  Y.,  7s.  lona.  On/. ,  3 12.  *Iowm 
City,  la.,  479,  489-  Iowa  Fans,  la.,  628, 
789.  Ipswich,  Eng.^  532,  538-9,  599.  Ips- 
wich, Ms.,  112,  510,  512.  Ireland  Parish, 
Ms.,  118,  125.  Ireland  Point,  iZrr.,  358. 
Irkutsk,  Bus.,  570.  Ironsides,  Ont.,  327. 
Irving,  N.  Y.,  204,  527.  Irrington,  Ind., 
786.  Inrlngton,  N.  Y.,  75,  79,  162,  164, 
174-5, 198.  Irwin,  Pa.,  779.  Ithpeming, 
Mich.,  785.  Isle  Madame,  N.  S.,  289.  lale 
Parent,  Que.,  328.  l8]ip(L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  150, 
15a.  Ismidt,  Tur.,  481-2,  570.  *IUiaoa, 
N.   Y.,  497-8.   77a. 

Jackman's  Plantation,  Me.,  574.  *Jaek- 
SOn,  Mich.,  501,  785.  Jackson,  N.  H.,  577. 
Jacksonville,  Cal.,  491.  Jacksonville,  Vt., 
579.  Jacktown,  O.,  486.  Jagodina,  «S>nr., 
481.  •Jamaica  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  90,  151^, 
772.  Jamaica  Plain,  Ms.,  575,  767. 
Jaman's  Gap,  Va.,  347.  JamOBtOWn,  N. 
Y.,  221,  587,  6ro,  772.  Jamestown,  O., 
785.  Jamestown,  Pa.,  206,  223,  485.  Jar- 
vis,  Oni.,  332.  ^Jefferson,  la.,  628,  787. 
•Jefferson,  Wis.,  787.  •Jefferson  City, 
Mo.,  486.  Jeffersontown,  Ky.,  236.  •Jef- 
fersonTille,  Ind.,  235,  595.  Jafferson- 
▼ille,  O.,  245.  Jenkintown,  Pa.,  779. 
Jenksville,  Ms.,  104,  no,  117,  126,  181,  352. 
Jericho  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151-a.  Jerome  Park, 
N.  Y.,  71,  73,  582.  Jersey,  Ont.,  316. 
•Jersey  City,  N.  J.,  30,  5«,  «»,  85, 97,  149, 
156,  168,  342,  388,  510,  583,  6a8,  776.  Jex^ 
seyflliore.  Pa.,  779.  John  0'Groat's,^r«/., 
497,  532,  536,  544,  548,  553-7,  685.  Johnson- 
burg,  N.  J.,  163,  207.  Johnston  Corners, 
(?«/.,  315.  *  Johnstown,  N.Y.,  196.  Jobns- 
town.  Pa.,  496,  530,  779-  ♦Jollet,  III.,  sot. 
534.  Jonesport,  Me.,  274.  Jordan  River,  M 
^•t  >93-  Jordanville,  Ct.,  131.  Jugiong,  A^. 
S.  Ur.,  564^.    •Junction  City,  Kan.,  788. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


xlv 


U.  N.  Y.,  ai6,  s8a.  Kaklu, /"m, 
S7I.  iCaiora,  yiU.^  563.  Kamouraska,  Qm., 
319.30.  •KaiUuikM,  IIL,  787.  KaniM 
CttTi  Mo.,  473.  486,  595,  7«7.  Kaiapoi,  N. 
Z.,  s68-9>  Kariex,  /'«r.,  571.  Kanthia, 
XKtf.,  ssa.  Xatonali.  N.  Y.,  773.  *Kmi«- 
aer.  Neb.,  475,  47S>  4Se-  KMMTlUa,  N. 
Y.,jii.  Keilor,  Kj^.,  563.  KeUogg.  U, 
479-  K«]«e7Vill«.CaL,490'  KeltoD,  Utah, 
477.  Kendal,  iSiv-i  53^  555-  KemUU- 
TUle,  IncL,  479.  Kennebec,  Me.,  Forks  of 
tbe,  573-4.  KeoiMdy,  N.  Y.,  223.  KOh 
B«tt  Sqwure,  Pa.,  779.  Kenaington,  En£.t 
5$4»  64S'  KentTille,  M  ^.,  385.  Kerns- 
unrn,  Va.,  345.  Keasock,  i^nv-,  5361  Kea> 
wick,  Ettg.,  646,  791.  Keswick,  Ont.t  316. 
Keuerioig,  £1^.,  S40w  Kettle  Pt.,  (?»/., 
33a.  Kboi,  Ptr.t  483.  KiUarney,  Ir*.^  546, 
6$a.  Kimbokon,  iffMtf'.,  539.  Kincardine, 
OmL^  315,  789.  Kinrturhoftt,  N.  Y.,  148, 
19^,  610,  77a.  Kin-gan-foo,  Chi,  $7*' 
Kiagsliridce,  N.  Y.,  64,  66,  78,  98,  s8a'3. 
Kingston,  JEiv-,  S44.  Kingston,  N.  J.,  377. 
'KSnertom,  N.  Y.,  188,  198.  Kingston, 
(?«/.,  ao4,  397,  300,  3«7,  3«9-a6,  333,  5»3i 
610,789.  KingMoo,  Pa.,  330.  Kingston,  5*. 
Am$.,  s6ol  Kingussie,  Sc^,,  555-6^  Kings- 
TiUe,  {?«/.,  301,  31a  KintnetSTiUa,  Pa.,  497. 
Kintore,  Omi.,  333.  Kk>to,/dt/.,  793.  Kirk- 
ton.  OMi.,  333.  Kittery,  Me.,  lox,  346, 575. 
Kio  Kiang,  CA/.,  57a.  Knight's  Ferry,  Cal., 
491-3.  Knotty  Ash,  Et^.,  557.  Knowltoo, 
N.  J.,  164.  •Kokomo»  lad.,  786.  Kreage- 
villt.  Pa.,  341.  Kurrachec,  /«^,  571. 
KaixiowD,  Pa.,  387.  Kyamba,  N.  S.  H^., 
565.    Kyoeton,  K*c/.,  559,  561-3. 

LaceyriUe,  Pa.,  319.  Lachine,  Qnf.,  338. 
La  Chata  Mills,  Omt.,  789.  Lackawaxen, 
Pa.,  340.  Laooda,  N.  Y.,  335.  TiftQonta, 
N,  H.,  576-7.  •htk  Crow«,  Wis.,  787. 
Lalamn,  Xtu.,  571.  «Lft  Fayette,  Ind., 
S3S,  786.  *If»gr«Bge,  Ind.,  336.  Lahore, 
/mL,  S7a.  Laird,  Neb.,  501.  *IiBke  City, 
CoL,  788W  nAke  Qeorge,  N.  Y.,  609,  773. 
Lake  Pleaaeet,  Ma.,  378^  Lakeville,  Ct., 
i43r  ■47-  lakeville,  N.  Y.,  193.  Lake- 
wood,  N.  y.,  333.  Lambeth,  Otti.,  331,  519. 
lU.,  479-  Lemonte.  Mo.,  47S> 
ir,  Ettg.,  554.  Leaeaster,  Ms., 
579^  •LaaeMter,  N.  H.,  575-7, 676,  766. 
TenwtT,  N.  Y.,  ao8,  315.    ^LaiioMter, 

P*.,    164,    344*    J'7i    S*3.  378,    386,  388^ 
486>  49S^.  TT*     iMdwrillt,  Pa.,  3891  77*. 


Land's  Bnd,  Em^.,  397,  533,  536,  548,  55^-7. 
685.  Lanesboro,  Ms.,  lai.  LanesyiJIe,  Ky., 
335.  Langenwcddingen,  Xui.,  687.  Lang- 
ford,  Efi£:,  558.  Lansdowne,  C!n/.,  335. 
TjawtlTiC,  Mich.,  501,  50s,  595,  785.  jMOr 
ilngbws,  N.  Y.,  193.  Leona,  N.  Y., 
aa3,  5S7.  ^Laporte,  Ind.,  479.  Laprade, 
Fr,,  551.  *Laraiiiie,  Wyo.,  473-41478.480, 
788.  Larrabee's  Point,  Yt..  579.  La  Salle, 
N.  Y.,  315.  Latsobe,  Pa.,  610,  779. 
Laurel,  Md.,  377.  Laurel  Hill,  Pa.,  485. 
Laumoot,  Fr.t  558.  Launceston,  Tas.,  560, 
563-4.  Lausanne,  Swiiz.,  545.  ^Lawreoce, 
Kan.,  485,  788.  *LawTenee,  Ms.,  ixa>  514. 
768.  ^Lawxenoelmrg,  Ind.,  336.  Law- 
rencetown,  M  S.,  385.  LawrenceviUe,  N. 
J-f  377*  777'  LaytoBsville,  Md.,  376.  Lead- 
enharo,  ^xf.,  539.  ^LeadvUle,  Col.,  643. 
788.  Leamington,  Ont.,  310^  'Lel^aaoil, 
Ky.,  329,  334,  610,  783.  Lebanon,  N.  Y., 
197.  ^Lebanon,  O.,  785.  •Lebanon,  Pa., 
3Q3*  343>  485,  779'  I'M,  Ms.,  i3i,  146,  148, 
30S,  6x0,  768.  Leeds,  Em£^.,  636,  645-6,  791. 
^Leeaburg,  Va.,  497.  Leestown,  Pa.,  343. 
Lee's  Summit,  Mo.,  486.  Leete's  Island, 
Ct.,  133.  Lseu warden,  ^0/.,  553.  Leghorn, 
//.,  700.  Lehighton,  Pa.,  399,  341  >  610. 
Leicester,  Sm^.,  53a.  539.  5S3»  643.  Leices- 
ter,  Ms.,  103,  110,  114.  Leipsic,  C7«r.,  114, 
651.  Leith,  Se^.,  645.  Leitersburg,  Md., 
385.  Le  Mans,  Fr.,  699.  Lemay  Ferry, 
Mo.,  535.  Lempster,  N.  H.,  575.  Lenox, 
Ms.,  148,  700.  Lenox,  N.  Y.,  208.  Lenox 
Furnace,  Ms.,  148.  Leominater,  Ms.,  579. 
I^eon,  N.  Y.,  333.  Leonardsville,  N.  Y.. 
773.  Le  Roy,  N.  Y.,  308,  331,  479.  487. 
773.  Lrcainore, /rr.,  546.  Lethbridge,  K«r/., 
559.  .  Level,  Md.,  373.  Level,  O.,  785. 
Lewes,  Emg.,  539.  •LewlabUPg,  W.  Va.. 
351,  486.  Lewiaton,  Me.,  765.  Lewistoa, 
N.  Y.,  333.  Lewiston,  On/.,  335.  *Lewla- 
towB,  111.,  485-6.  •Lewiatown,  Pa.,  344. 
496.  Lewisville,  Ind.,  485.  •Lexington, 
Ky.,  336,  333-4,  501,  537,  783.  Lexington, 
Ms.,  39,  5't  >o3i  386.  517,  768.  •Lexing- 
ton, Va.,  347,  349-S«.  495-  Leytonstone, 
Eng'.^  791.  Lima,  N.  Y.,  308,  313.  *Lima, 
O.,  488,  501.  Limekiln,  Pa.,  389.  Lim- 
erick, /r#.,  79a.  Limerick,  Me.,  577.  Lime 
Book,  Ct.,  769.  Lincoln,  £«r-,  539>  *Lin- 
OOln,  III.,  486,  489-  Lincoln,  Omi.,  323. 
Lincoln  Park,  N.  J.,  777.  Linlithgow,  Scai., 
645.     •Linn,  Mo.,  485.     Liabon,    N.  H., 


xlvi 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


577.  I-tole,  N.  v.,  497*  L'IsIet,  Que., 
329-30.  Listowel],  Ottt.,  314-5*  *Litell- 
flald,  Ct.,  i4i-s>  148,  s8i.  Little,  Ky.,  336. 
Little  Boar's  Head,  N.  H.,  513.  Little  Falls, 
N.  J.,  30,  84,  165,  167,  169.  Littto  FaUs, 
N.  Y.,  200,  202,  20S,  48S,  772.  Little  Metis, 
Q***'*  329-30>  Little  Mount,  Ky.,  236. 
Little  Neck  (L.  L),  N.  Y.,  151-3,  «55- 
•LlUle  Book,  Ark. ,  783.  Littleton,  N.  H., 
61,  576-7.  •Little  Valley,  N.  Y..  223. 
Liverpool,  -ffn^f.,  99,  406,  473M,  480-2,  527, 
532,  553»  S5<^7.  570,  592.  636,  642,  645-7.686, 
791.  Liverpool,  N.  JT.,  28S.  Liverpool, 
N.  S.  IV.,  561,  565-6.  Livingston,  N.  Y., 
220.  Llandaff,  ^«^.,  558.  Llandyssul,  ^»j'., 
791.  Uoyd's  Neck  (L.  L),  N.  Y.,  151. 
Lodge  Pole,  Neb.,  478.  Lockerbie,  Scot., 
536.  *Lock  Haven,  Pa.,  779.  Lockland, 
O.,  785.  'Lockport,  N.  Y.,  316-7,  222, 
325.  5o(,  772.  *Logan8port»  Ind.,  786. 
London,  En^.,  63,  99,  129,  280,  292,  353, 
365,  402-6,  426-S,  436,  444,  448,  464,  467, 
470-2,  474-5.  480.1,  517,  524,  530-41,  544. 
547-8,  5SO-I,  553-8,  567,  598-9,  602,  611,  627, 
636,  642-7,  654,  656-9,  662,  670,  681-91,  693, 
695-6,  698-9,  791,  798.  London,  Oni.,  204, 
3«,  3«4-5,  3*9.  3»i.  33',  33*.  634-5.  654,  669, 
789.  Londsboro,  Otti.,  332.  Long  Island 
City,  N.Y.,  97, 99.  Longmeadow,  Ms., 123-4, 
181,254,580.  Longneuil,  ^N».,  328.  Long- 
wood,  Que.,  331.  Lookout,  Wyo.,  478.  Lo- 
niin,0.,595.  L' Original,  ^«tf., 328.  Lor- 
raine, ^r.,  480.  *Lo8  Angeles,  Cal.,  789. 
Loughboro,  Eng.,  539.  Louisbux^,  C.  B., 
289.  *LotiisTiUe,  Ky.,  31,  33,  51,  225, 
23r-7,  486,  501,  525-6,  530,  590,  595,  597, 
A28,  783.  Loup,  Fr.,  545.  Louvain,  Fr., 
699.  Lovell,  Me.,  577.  Lovelock's,  Nev., 
476,  480.  *LoweU,  Ms.,  112,  378,  500,  508, 
517,  597.  660,  76S.  Lower  Lachine,  Que., 
328.  Lowestaft,  Eng:,  539.  Lubec,  Me., 
264-70,  279,  516,  573,  610,  765.  Lucan,  Oni., 
312,  314.  Lucindale,  S.  A  us.,  560.  Luck" 
now,  Ont.,  315,  332.  Ludlow,  Vt.,  579. 
Lunenburg,  M  5*. ,  288.  Lonenlnirg,  Vt. , 
577.  *Luray,  Va.,  244,  346-51,  381-2.  Luth- 
field,  A^.  Z.,  56S.  Lutton,  Eng^.,  537.  Lyme, 
Ct.,  131, 792.  Lynehbiirg,Va.,346.  Lynd- 
httrst,  N.  J.,  166.  Lynn,  Eng.,  537-8,  557. 
Lynn,  Ms.,  loi,  516,  573,  597,  631,  768. 
Lynn,  C7i«/.,  326.  Lyons,  />.,  698.  L>"on8, 
III.,  479.  'Lyons,  Kan.,  6a8.  *Lyons,  N. 
Y.,  77a. 


McCainsville,  N,  J.,  163,  207.  McCbok, 
Neb.,  501.  *MoOonneUslnirg,  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.,  193.  McUinnTille,  Or.,  788.  •Mar 
oomb.  III.,  787.  ^Macon,  Ga.,  782.  M6- 
Veytown,  Pa.,  244.  Madison,  Ct.,  132, 
523.  *Madison,  Ind.,  595,  786.  Madison, 
N.  H.,  577.  Madison,  N.  J.,  30,  163,  174, 
777.  Madison,  N.  Y.,  772.  Madison,  C, 
479.  *Madison,  Va..  348.  Madrid,  .S>., 
70a  Madrone,  Cal.,  490,  492-  Magnolia, 
Ky.,  230-1.  Mahwah,  N.  J.,  169.  Maider>- 
head,  Eng.,  567,  792.  Maidstone,  En^., 
646.  Mainx,  Ger.,  552.  Maitland,  N.  S., 
283.  Maitland,  Om/.,  326.  Maketoke, 
A^.  Z.,  568.  Maiden,  Ms.,  29,  zor,  768. 
Maiden  Bridge,  N.  Y.,  208.  Malmesbury, 
yicf.,  560.  Malvern,  Eng.,  645.  Malvern, 
OfU.,  116.  Malvern,  Pa.,  3S9.  Mamaxo- 
neok,  N.  Y.,  247.  Manassas  Gap,  Va.,  34S. 
Manchester,  Eng.,  468,  535,  539,  550,  642, 
645-7,  683,  688,  792.  Manchester,  Ms.,  113. 
Manchester,  Me.,  627.  Manchester,  Mo., 
3»,  52s.  52S.  *Manehe8ter,  N.  H.,  500, 
575-6,  766.  Manhasset  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151. 
Manhattanville,  N.  Y.,  32.  Mannheim, 
Grr.,552.  Mannsville,  Pa.,335.  Manotick, 
Oh/.,  327.  Mansfield,  Ms.,  107,  109,  768. 
•Mansfield,  O.,  7S5.  Mansfield,  Pa., 
779.  Mantes,  ^r. ,  480.  Maple  wood,  N.  H., 
577.  Marblehead,  Ms.,  112, 281,  515,  768. 
Marcellns,  N.  Y.,  20S,  479-  Marcy,  N.  Y., 
210.  Margate,  Eug.,  599^  •Marietta, 
O.,  595.  Marietta,  Pa.,  244-  Mariner*s 
Harbor  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  772.  Marion,  N.  J.. 
82,  168,  582.  Marion,  Pa.,  495.  Markdale, 
(?«/.,  3 16.  Markham,  N.  Y.,  223.  Mark- 
ham,  Omf.,  316.  Market-Deeping,  Efig., 
539,  541.  Marlboro,  Ms.,  514.  Marlboro, 
N.  Y,,  172.  Marlboro,  Vt.,  579.  Marlen- 
hsim,  Ger.,  481.  Marlow,  Que.,  574. 
Marlton,  N.  J.,  39a  Marmande,  Fr.,  552. 
Marseilles,  Fr.,  698.  •Marshall,  Mich., 
334,785.  •Marshall,  Minn.,  787.  •Mar- 
Shalltown,  la.,  787.  Marshfield,  Ms.,  113. 
Martlnsbiirg,  N.  Y.,  201.  •MarMnsburg, 
W.  Va.,  242,  244.  300.  303,  344-5.  349,  S«8, 
495-8,  590,  782.  Martinsville,  N.  Y.,  317. 
Marulam,  AT.  S.  W.,  564-6.  •Marywille, 
Kan.,  485.  Marysville,  Viet.,  560.  Mask- 
inonge.  Que.,  575.    MaBiJllon,  O.,  487,  soi. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


xlvii 


feS*  6«7^  785-  Masterton,  A^.  Z..  568^ 
Mataae,  Qme.,  339.  Matlin,  Utah,  477- 
Mauituck  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  150,  isa,  155-  M«t- 
toon,  lU.,  489.  ^ICaneh  Chunk,  Pa.,  aao, 
»99»  34a,  5301  779.  Mayfieid,  CaL,  493- 
Mayence,  G^.,  545-  *MaytVlUe,  Ky.,  30, 
P.  39»  a33-5.  SO't  590-  *M«yvUla,  N.  Y., 
ao6,  aaj,  48S,  587.  Maainan,  J?«».,  571. 
•MtedvlUe,  Pa.,  779-  Meaford,  Ont„  316. 
Keehaalctlrari^,  Pa.,779.  Mechanicsville, 
Md,  376.  BCaehftiiiesvlUe,  N.  Y.,  190, 
i9t.  MaobuilcsTiUe,  Pa.,  341.  *MedU, 
Pa.,  390.  Medina,  Kan.,  485-  Medlnft, 
N.  Y.,  217,  aaa.  •Medlnft,  O.,  501*  785- 
Medina,  Otd.,  zzz.  Hodford,  Ms.,  516, 
768.  Mdningen,  Gtr.^  ssa.  Melboonie, 
Oirf.,  331.  Melbourne,  Viet,^  559-66,  570, 
6sa,  654,  695-6,  706,  793.  Me]petaa,  Cal., 
490.  Mdton  Mowbray,  Eng.^  547.  *BCam- 
pUt,  Tenn.,  6a8,  633,  654,  670,  783.  Mend- 
ham,  N.  J.,  173-  Mendota,  IlL,  479- 
MmnVimiMW,  Wis.,  787.  Meningie,  ^. 
ilM.,  56a  Menio  Park,  Cal.,  49s.  Mentor, 
O.,  785.  nCaroer,  Pa.,  779.  Merchant- 
ville,  N.  J.,  390.  BCerldan,  Ct.,  n,  38,  31, 
no,  128,  i33-5f  »37-8f  «49.  «9»»  a5o»»  377» 
510,  5S1,  610,  769.  Meredith,  ViU,,  559. 
MerioB  Square,  Pa.,  389.  Merioneth,  Eng.^ 
645.  Kaniek,  Ms.,  768.  Merrick  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  153.  Merrimac,  Ma.,  768.  Merritt- 
rilk,  N.  J.,  171.  Merv,  /?«t.,  57a  Meshed, 
Ptr.f  570-1.  Meshoppeo,  Pa.,  3a,  319. 
Metcalfe,  Oni. ,  327.  Metegban,  N.  S. ,  383-4. 
Metocben,  N.  J.,  167,  377.  Metz,  (;#r., 
S99-  Mexico,  Mex.^  790W  Mexico,  Pa., 
244.  Meyendale,  Pa.,  244.  Mianus,  Ct., 
248.  *Middlelniry,  Vt.,  197,  578-9.  Mid- 
dle Fmge,  N.  J.,  170.  MIddleport,  N. 
v.,  217.  Middleport,  Pa.,  34a.  Middlesex, 
Vl,  578.  •Middletown,  Ct.,  769.  Mld- 
dtetoira,  Ind.,  236.  Middletown,  la.,  484* 
48s,  486.  Middletown,  N.  Y.,  198,  340, 
498.  587.  77*-  Middletown,  O..  785. 
VUUletown,  Pa.,  345.  3S(t  496.  Middle- 
toira,.R.  1.,  108,  581.  Middle^ine,  M.  J., 
rfa,  Midway,  Va.,  349,  495.  MifiKn,  Pa., 
S44,  498-  Milan,  //.,  55a,  793.  Mlltord, 
Ct,  110,  134,  13S,  140,  143,  349.  Milford, 
Eh,  546.  Milford,  Ms.,  768.  Milford, 
N.  H.,  579,  766.  vMUford,  Pa.,  164.  198. 
^»  SS7.  779-  MiUbank,  Oni.,  335*  MHl- 
brae,  Cal.,  492^.  Millbrldge,  Me.,  374. 
Mimmm,  N.  J.,  16a,  164,  i73>  <7S*    Mill- 


btny,  Ms.,  ro9,  768.  MiD  City,  Nev.,  476^ 
MUl  Creek,  Pa.,  38^  MiUerflbnrff,  Ky., 
333.  MUler't  Falls,  Ms.,  768.  Miller's 
Station,  Ind.,  479.  Millerstown,  Pa.,  385. 
MillenviUe,  Pa.,  779.  MiUerton.  N.  Y., 
188.  Mill  Grove,  N.  Y.,  217.  Millhaven, 
Ont.y  325.  MUltown,  Me.,  366.  MiU  Vil- 
lage,  N.  S.,  393.  MillYiUe,  Ms.,  109. 
MUlTllle,  N.  J.,  390.  520,  777.  Millwood, 
Pa.,  494.  Milton,  Ms.,  39,  102,  517,  768. 
MUton,  N.  H.,  577.  Mihon,  N.  Y.,  172. 
Milton,  Vt.,  500.  Milton  Falls,  N.  H.,  577. 
Milton  Lower  Falk,  Ms.,  58, 106, 109.  •Mil- 
wankee,  Wis.,  259.  487,  501,  5«9,  5*4,  595, 
628, 643, 787  Mine  La  Motto,  Mo.,  787. 
Mineola  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151,  153.  •Minne- 
apolis. Minn.,  324,  53©,  595»  6a8,  787. 
Miramarc,  Aust.t  553.  Mirfield,  £m^.,  79a. 
Mishawaka,  Ind.,  479.  Mitchell,  Otd,, 
ao4,  3»3,  3M,  3«7,  3*4,  S3a-  Mittagong, 
N.  S.  H^.t  561,  564-6.  Mittineague,  Ms., 
lao,  133-3.  *MdUle,  Ala.,  a.  Moline, 
in.,  479.  4891  7*7.  Monclon,  N.  B.,  598. 
Monmouth,  Eng.,  539.  •Moomoath,  IlL, 
787.  *Monmoutii,  Or.,  78^.  Mono  Cen- 
ter, Oni.,  316.  Monroe,  N.  J.«  163.  Mon^ 
roeville,  O.,  488.  Monson,  Me.,  574. 
Montauk  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  155.  Montelair, 
N.  J.,  160-2,  167, 777.  Monterey,  CaL,  49o> 
492,494.  Monterey,  Ms.,  488.  Monterey, 
Pa.,  385.  •Montgomery,  Ala.,  610,  637, 
670,  707>  783-  Montgomery,  N.  Y.,  198. 
MdntioeUo,  N.  Y.,  510.  Monticeilo,  Va., 
351.  Montinagny,  Que.,  328.  Montowese, 
Ct.,  133.  >49-  •Montpelier,  Vt.,  500, 
578.  Montpellier,  Fr.,  481,  699.  Montreal, 
One.,  18s,  187,  293,  326-8,  330-1,  333,  500, 
S^,  575»  578,  59*»  598,  634-5,  646,  669,  790. 
•Montrote,  Pa.,  594,  779.  Montville,  Me., 
574-  Monument,  CoL,  477-  Moolap,  ^at/., 
559.  Moonambel,  Viei.,  566.  Mooree- 
town,  N.  J.,  177.8,  3901  Sa«»  5a»i  777- 
Mooresrille,  Ind.,  235.  Mooresville,  Pa., 
343.  Moose  River  Plantation,  Me.,  574. 
Morecambe,  Bug.,  645.  Morehouseville, 
N.  Y.,  211.  Moretown,  Vt.,  578.  Morges, 
SwitM.,  545.  Morpeth,  Om(.,  310,  315. 
Morris,  Ct.,  142.  MoRlaania,  N.  Y.,  96. 
•Monlttown,  N.  J.,  30, 84,  163-4, 173,  «75i 
333,  5o»,  610,  777.  Mortlake,  Eng.,  646, 
793.  Mortlake,  Far^.,  55941.  Moscow,  la., 
479.  Moscow,  Eta.,  79s.  Mosholu,  N.  Y., 
78.    Mott  Haven,  N.  Y.,  73.    Moontaln 


xlviii        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Ytow,  GaL,  49*-  Mountain  View,  N.  J., 
165,  i69-7<x  Ml  Carbon,  Pa.,  34a.  Mt.  Car- 
mel,  Ct,  134-5,  a49i  486,  581.  *Ht.  G«r- 
ooel,  III,  486,  787.  Mt.  Crawfonl,  Va., 
346.  Mt.  Dewrt,  Me.,  130,  274.7,  279,  aSt, 
511*13,  515,  573.  Mt  Eden,  Cal.,  493.  Ml 
Eden,  Ky.,  336,  Mt.  Ephraim,  N.  J.,  390, 
Saa.  Ml  Forest,  (?«/.,  316.  Mt.  Gambler, 
Vid,,  560.  Ml  Hermon,  N.  J.,  164.  Mt. 
HoUy,  N.  J.,  777.  ML  Hope,  N.  J.,  164. 
Ml  Hope,  Ont.,  332.  Mt.  Jacksoa,  Va., 
346,348,  3Sa-3-  Mt.  Joy,  Pa.,  496.  Mt. 
KSftko,  N.  v.,  76, 187.  Mt.  MorrU,  N.  V., 
58,  213.  Mt.  Pleannt,  Pa.,  339,  779.  Mt. 
Pttlatkl,  lU.,  485.  Ml  Sl  Vincent,  N.  Y., 
78,  80.  Ml  Salem,  OtU.^  331.  ML  Sidney, 
Va.,  346,  J5i^  486.  Ml  Stewart,  P,  E.  /., 
290-1.  Ml  Uniacke,  AT.  S.,  287.  Mt. 
y«mon,  N.  Y.,  79,  138,  583,  77a.  Mt. 
Yenum,  O.,  501,  785.  Ml  Vemon,  Ofit.t 
3 1 7.  Ml  Vemon,  Va.,  376.  Ml  Washing- 
ton, Ky.,  236.  Much  Wenlock,  Eh^.,  792. 
MulUca  Hill,  N.  J.,  390.  Mumford,  N.  Y., 
222.  Mundarloo,  A^.  S.  IV.,  564.  Munich, 
Gcr.,  481,  651,  697.  Murdiison,  j^ic/.,  56a. 
Murphy's  Comers,  Oni.,  33a.  Murray, 
N.  Y.,  222.  Muatapha  Pasha,  Tur.,  48a. 
Myerttown,  Pa.,  343,  610,  779. 

Nagasaki, /iit^.,  57a.  Nancy,  Fr.y  139,  480, 
545.  Nanuet,  N.  Y.,  586.  *Napa,  Cal.,  49a 
Napanee,  Ont.^  319-22,  324-5»  S<^'  Napar- 
vllle.  111.,  479.  Napier,  AT.  Z.,  568.  Naples, 
/'•,  5S«-a,  •<»•  •Napoleon,  O.,  479-  Nar- 
racoorte,  Vict.,  560.  nVaahna,  N.  H.,  128, 
i37»  S«>»  507-8,  575.  627,  6431  766.  •Nash- 
ville,  Tenn.,  231,  352,  500,  595,  597,  783- 
Nauaa,  N.  Y.,  479-  Natlck,  Ms.,  m-ia, 
114,  ao8.  Natural  Bridge,  Va.,  348-51,  525, 
610,  782.  Nansataek,  Cl,  141,  582.  Na- 
venby,  ^»i^r-»  539-  Navoo,  C7j»/.,  332.  Kaiap 
reth.  Pa.,  779.  Needham,  Ms.,  29,  33, 768. 
Neenah,  Wis.,  787.  Negannee,  Mich.,  785. 
Nenagh,  Ire.,  546.  Nevis,  N.  Y.,  196.  ♦New 
Albany,  Ind.,  235,  486,  595.  New  Albion, 
N.  v.,  223.  New  Almaden,  Cal,  789.  New- 
ark, Eh^.,  539-41.  •Newark,  N.  J.,  29-33, 
S(-3i  55*  58,  82,  84,  121,  156,  159-60,  i62-4> 
166-70,  172,  174-5,  177,  207,  220,  317,  37a, 
387*8,  501,  509-10,  583-4,  587-91  6io,  632,  654, 
669,  711-12,  777.  *Newark,  O.,  785.  New 
Baden,  lU..  485.  New  Brighton  (S.  I.),  N.  Y., 
32, 156.  NewBiitaia,  Cl,  za8,  134, 136-8, 
t4a,  »45.  U9.  «5o,  377.   S8i-»,  770.     •Now 


Bnmswlek,  N.  J.,  167,  172,  34a.  377.  499. 
777-  Newburg,  Ind.,  237.  •Newbnrgli, 
N.  v.,  74,  lai,  146, 171,  194,  197,  340,  498, 
582,  610,  702,  772.  Newbury,  £/^.,  s^. 
•Newbnryport,  Ms.,  101-2,  512,  518.  New 
Castk,  Ala.,  783.  Newcastle,  CaL.  476. 
Newcastle,  Del,  52a.  Newcastle,  £ng., 
599, 642, 644, 646-7.  •New  Castle,  Ind.,  S36, 
786.  Newcastle,  Oni.^  319-M,  325-  •New 
Castle,  Pa.,  779.  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  ^Kip., 
554. 646, 687-8, 79a.  New  ConeoiHA,  O.,  245, 
485.  New  Dorp  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  158.  N«w- 
fieU,  N.  J.,  522.  Newfoundland,  N.  J. ,  6ie, 
777.  New  Hartford,  Ct.,  143-5-  •New 
Haven,  Cl,  12, 27,  30-3,  50,  54, 61, 99, 113, 

127-8,  132-6,  138-40,  14a,  144-5.  «48-9,  «5>. 
171,  246,  249-50,  377-8,  391.  394,  398-9.  401, 
404,  435.  438,  464-5.  5o».  5«o-««.  532-3,  58i-a. 
993,  627,  643,  722,  770.    Newbaven,  Enf., 

480.  New  Haven,  Ky.,  229,  234.  New 
Holland,  Pa.,  486.  New  Hurfey,  N.  Y., 
19S.  Newington,  Cl,  136-7, 250.  New  Leb- 
anon, N.  Y.,  488.  New  Lenox,  Ms.,  14S. 
*New  London,  Cl,  3a,  85,  129-31,  14$, 
148,  150,  153,  581,  593,  597,  610.  New 
Longbach,  Atttt.,  481.  Newmarket,  Emf., 
539.  Newmarket,  Md.,  377.  Newmar- 
ket, Oni.,  316,  789.  New  Market,  Va., 
244,  346-8,  35».  381-3,  388,  495.  498.  New 
MUford.  CL,  142, 582,  77a  NewMilford, 
Pa.,  341.  •New  Orleans,  La.,  a,  140,  joo, 
sot,  527,  595,  597.  628,  654,  670,  783.  New 
Oxford,  Pa.,  351,  486,  495.  New  Palti,  N. 
Y.,  198.  New  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  34a.  New 
Plymouth,  N.  Z.,  568-9.  Newport,  Del.. 
3?2.  •Newport,  Ky.,  590,  784.  NewiKnrt, 
N.  H.,  500.  Newport,  Pa.,  496.  •New- 
port, R.  I.,  12,  24,  28,  3r-3, 37,  to8,  150,  516, 
523,  526,  581,  615-6,  625,  800.  Newport 
News,  Va.,  595.  Newportville,  Pa.,  377. 
New  Preston,  Ct.,  77a  New  SoehfiUe, 
N.  Y.,  91,  138,  247,  627,  772.  Newry,  Eng.^ 
792.  New  Sarum,  Oni.^  331.  New  Tacoma, 
Wash.,  788.  •Newton,  la.,  479-  Newton, 
Ms.,  31, 185,  517,  530.  631,  768.  •Newton. 
N.  J.,  777.  Newton  Comers,  N.  Y.,  211. 
Newton  Lower  Falls,  Ms.,  iii,  114.  New- 
tonvfne,  Ms.,  631.  Newtonville,  Ont.^  319, 
325.  Newtown,  Cl,  151,  58a.  Newtown  (L. 
L),  N. Y.,  58,  90.  Newtown,  Pa.,  345.  New 
Utrecht  (L.  L),  N.  Y.,  90.     NensaU,  5rrw., 

481.  •New  York  City,  N.  Y.,  a,  ii^  la, 
a5-6,  29.  3«-3.  38,  4a,  46-7,  5«,  53-4,64-6,  83. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


xluc 


M.  87-9»,  94-7f  99.  «<»»  »o5.  «<»9i  "a-3. 
laS,  13a,  jjS,  150^,  166,  168,  171,  177,  183, 
1S7.  i8>90,  193,  197-3,  ao7, 109, 134, 438, 24*, 
346,  249,  a3»,  «S«.  264,  275,  a79»  »«8i  *96, 
998,  305,  308,  312,  3JO,  323,  331,  345,  350, 
353-6, 363-70,  37«»  374,  377-«i  384.  3881  39», 
399,402-4,  407,  427-38,  448-54,  458^,  464-6, 
469.  47a,  474,  4S1,  487,  494,  499-50',  S04,  5'Of 
5».  524,  569-70.  572i  582-8,  592-4,  597, 610-11, 
615.20, 625.%  643,  654-7,  659,  663,  667,  672, 
678,630,  63;,  700,  706,  708,  71T-2,  728,  730, 
733,  772-5.  779-    New  York  Mills,  N.  Y., 

336.  Nezmely, //'f(ii,,48i.  Niagara  Falls, 
N.  Y.,  v.,  12,  a8,  31,  50,  52,  55,  199,  202-4, 
214.216,  225,  232,  293,  296,  315,  317,  323-5, 
331,  333,  3S2,  4S8,  500-1,  582,  586,  593,  610, 
775.  Niantic,  Ct,  130.  Nicetown,  Pa.,377. 
Nfles,  N.  Y.,  223.  Nllas,  O.,  594,  785. 
Niacb,  Strv.,  481-2.  Ni»hapQor,  /Vr.,  571. 
Nissouri,  Ont.^  332.  Noank,  Ct.,  770. 
Nobksboro,  N.Y.,  211.  •Nobletville,  Ind., 
fas.  786.  Norfolk,  Ct.,  143-4,  700.  Nor- 
ftik,  Va.,  352,  782.  Normandy,  Ky.,  236. 
Norman's  Cross,  Eng.,  532,  539,  541,  553.4. 
*NorrlBtown,  Pa.,  389,  779.  N.  Adams, 
^'•i  193-4,  500,  700.  N.  AdeLiide,  S.  Aus,., 
5^  793.  N.  Amherst,  Ms.,  120.  North- 
uipion,  Eng.^  539,  792.    'Northampton, 

Ms.,  3»,  »M,  118-21,  127,  183,  191,324,  610, 
768.  N.  Aodover,  Ms.,  768.  N.  Anson, 
Me-i  574.  N.  Becket,  Ms.,  lai.  N.  Bend, 
Neb.,  478.  N.  Bbndford,  Ms.,  121,  ao8. 
Hofthboro,  Ms.,  29,  51,  103,  m,  113-4, 
117,  514-  Northbridge,  Ms.,  109.  N.  Cam- 
Wdge,  Ms.,  103.  N.  Canaan,  Ct.,  143.  N. 
Collins,  N.  Y.,  223.  N.  Conway,  N.  H., 
$76-7.  N.  Czeek,  N.  Y.,  21 1.  N.  Dighton, 
R.  I.,  581.  N.  Bast,  Md.,  782.  N.  East, 
^•,  3>3-  N.  Bast,  Pa.,  50,  205^,  371.  N. 
Easton,  Ms,,  581.  Northficld,  Ct.,  142. 
Horthfield,  Ms.,  517.  Northfidd,  N.  J., 
163,175.  Northfleld,  Vt.,  578.  N.  Fork, 
Ky..a33.  N.  Fork,  Va.,  382.  N.  Hadley, 
Ms.,  579.  N.  Hatfield,  Ms.,  31,  119,  182-3. 
H.  Haven.  Ct.,  133.5.  N.  Hoosick,  N.  Y., 
193.  N.  Lisbon,  N.  H.,  576.  N.  London, 
^H*  5J4, 543-  N.  Otseljc,  N.  Y.,  337.  N. 
Petersbuijr,  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.  F^ndol|>h,  Vt.,  578.  N. 
SbicUs,  Eng.f  645-6,  792.  N.  Turner,  Me., 
S74.    N.  Vallejo,  CaL,  49>-     Northville, 


N.  Y.,  Z55,  ail.  N.  Walpole,  Ms.,  107. 
N.  Walsham,  Eng.,  646.  N.  Weare,  N, 
H.,  500.  N.  Wilbraham,  Ms.,  no,  117. 
Norwalk,  Ct.,  13?,  143,  248,  657.  •Nor- 
walk,  O.,  48S,  785.  Norway,  Me.,  574. 
Norway,  Ont.,  319.  •Norwich,  Ct.,  129-30, 
5*)3»  770-  Norwich,  Eng.^  538-9,  683.  Nor- 
wich, N.  Y.,  151,  336.  Norwich,  O.,  245. 
Norwich,  Ont.^  332.  Norwood,  Ms.,  f07, 
376.  Norwood.  N.  Y.,  775.  Norval,  Ont.^ 
318.19.     Notre  Dame  du  Portage,  Qh*.^  329- 

30.  Nottingham,  Eng,,  539,  553,  646-7. 
Nukhab,  Ptr.,  571.  Nnnda,  N.  Y.,  214. 
Nyack,  N.  Y.,  30,  32,  51,  75,  80,  198,  586-7. 

Oakfield,  N.  Y.,  222.  Oak  Hall,  Ky., 
233.  Oakham,  .f#rf.,  539.  •Oakland.  Cal., 
475,  49O1  492-3,  789.  Oakland,  Ind.,  485. 
•Oakland,  Md.,  487.  Oakland.  N.  J.,  170. 
Oakvills,  Ct.,  142.  Oamaru,  N.  Z.,  794. 
Oberkirch,  C^r.,  481.  Oberlin.  O.,  501,  785. 
Ockham,  Eng.,  547.  Oconomowoc,  Wis., 
5or.  •Ogallala,  Neb.,  478,  489.  •Ogden, 
Utah,  475,  480,  788.  Ogdensburg,  N.  Y., 
48,  296,  298,  303,  317,  326,  333,  582,  594. 
Ohinemutu,  N.  Z.,  567.  Ojata,  Dak.,  788. 
Okehampton,  Eug.^  536,  554.  Old  Ham- 
burg, Ky.,  236.  Old  Lyme,  Ct.,  131.  Old 
Orchard  Beach,  Me.,  575.  Olean,  N.  Y., 
208,222-3,  775.  Olmstedville,  N.  Y.,211. 
•Omaha,  Neb.,  475,  47S,  480,  489,  628,  788. 
Onehunga,  iV.  Z.,  568.     Oneida,  N.  Y.,  28, 

31,  201-2,  20S,  212,  220,  336,  479.  Opem- 
gasse,  ..4m«/.,645.  Ophir,  Cal.,  476.  Oporto, 
Port.,  599.  Opunake,  N.  Z.,  569.  Oramel, 
N.  Y.,  217.    Oran,  N.  Y.,  336.      Orange, 

Ind.,  786.  Orange,  Ms.,  Z14,  579,  768. 
Orange,  N.  J.,  27,  29,  30,  33, 5i-:2,82, 161-4, 
174-5,  207, 220,  509,  584,  5S8-9,  610,  678,  711, 
777.  'Orange,  Va.,  348.  Orange  Valley, 
N.  J.,  777.  Orangeville,  Ont.,  316.  Oran- 
more,  /r#.,  645.  Oregon,  Pa.,  387.  Orillia, 
Ont.^  316.  Oriskany,  N.  Y.,  aoi,  210.  •Or- 
lando, Flor.^  783.  Orleans,  Fr.,  558.  Oro- 
no,  Me.,515.  Orrville.O.,  785.  Orwell,<9«/., 
331.  Orwigsburg,  Pa.,  342,  49S,  779.  Oshawa, 
OiU.^  319.  •Oshkosh,  Wis.,  787.  *Oska- 
loosa,  la.,  643,  787.  Osprey,  OhL,  318. 
•Ossipec,  N.  H.,  575-7.  Ostend,  Bel.^  522, 
551,  599.    Oswego,   111.,  479.    •Oswego, 

Kan.,  788.  'Oswego,  N.  Y.,  219,  333,  775. 
Otego,  N.  Y.,  775.  Otis,  Ms.,  121,  479. 
OtisviUe,  N.  Y.,  340.  'Ottawa,  Kan.,  788. 
Ottawa,  Ont.f  31a,  327-3',  635,  789.    •Otter- 


1 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


▼ille,  Mo.,  435-6.  *Ottiimwa,  la.,  673, 
787.  Overbrook,  Pa.,  389-90.  Ovid,  Mich., 
687,  785.  *Owen8boro,  Ky.,  590,  784. 
OwoiSO,  Mich.,  785.  Oxford,  Eng.y  533, 
539.  5M.  646.  Oxford,  Md.,  486,  593,  782. 
Oxford,  Pa.,  386,  388.  Oysler  Bay  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  151. 

*Padnoah,  Ky.,  590,  784.  Pahiatau,  N. 
i?.,  56S.  Paignton,  Eng.^  551,  792.  Painted 
Post,  N.  Y.,  218.  Paisley,  Oni.,  315.  Pa- 
lenviUe,  N.  Y.,  188,  498.  Palermo,  Mc., 
574.  Paliside,  Nev.,  477.  Palmer,  Ms., 
no,  117,  128,  181,  20S,  479,  76S.  Palmyra, 
Ind.,  235.  Palmyra,  Pa.,  343.  Palo  Alto, 
Cal.,  49»-  Panama,  N.  Y.,  587.  •Paoli, 
Ind.,  235,  237-  Paol>»  Pa-.  378,  388-9.  Par- 
adise,  Pa.,  496-7.  Paradise,  R.  I.,  108. 
Paradox,  N.  Y.,  an.  Paris,  <Fr.,  2,  99,  280, 
403,  4o5.  426,  448,  458-9.  480,  545,  551.  558, 
586,611,645,651,  698-9,  792.  *Pari8,  111., 
485-6.  •Paris,  Ky.,  233.5,  •PaariB,  Me., 
5«5»  765.  Paris,  0«/.,  317,  325,  332.  Park- 
rille  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  775.  Parrsboro*,  A^.  5"., 
289.  Parsippany,  N.  J.,  163,  207.  PassalC, 
N.  J.,  169,  777.  Patchogue  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
»So.  »53-5.  •Paterson,  N.  J.,  30,  33,  84,  164- 
70,  216,  588-9,  777.  Pau,  Fr.y  558,  651,  699, 
792.  Paulus  Hook,  N.  J.,  168.  Pavilion, 
N.  Y.,  222.  Pawling,  N.  Y.,  188.  Paw- 
taclcet,  R.  I.,  106-9,  580-1,  628,  769.  Pax- 
ton,  Ms.,  579.  Peconic,  N.  Y.,  775.  Pe- 
cowsic,  Ms.,  580.  Peekflkill,  N.  Y.,  194, 
627,  775.  Pekin,  Chi.,  570.  Pekin,  N.  Y., 
222.  Pelham,  N.  Y.,  247.  Pelton's  Cor- 
ners, Ont.,  33a.  Pemberton,  N.  J.,  777. 
Penfield,  Pa.,  610,  779.  Penacook,  N.  H., 
577.  Pennington,  N.  J.,  173.  Penrith, 
Eng.^  536.  Penryn,  Eng.^  646.  Penshurst, 
Vict.,  563.  Penzance,  Eng.,  554-5.  645. 
*Peoria,  III.,  489,  501,  787.  Peppercll,  Ms., 
128.  Pi^re  Marquette,  Ont.,  595.  Perry, 
Me.,  261.  Perry,  N.  Y.,  222.  Perrysburg, 
N.  Y.,223.  Perryaburg,  0.,479.  Perrys- 
ville.  Pa.,  372-3,  377.  Perryville,  Kan.,  485- 
6.  Perryville,  Ky.,  226-9.  Perryville,  N. 
Y.,  i88.  Perth,  Ont.,  327.  Perth,  Scot.,  536, 
556.  Perth,  Tas.,  563.  Perth  Amboy,  N. 
J-.  «5S,  158,  377.  777-  Peru,  Ms.,  121.  Pes- 
cara,  //.  ,552.  Pcsth ,  Hun.  ,551.  Petaluma, 
Cal,,  490,  789.  Peterboro,  Rng.,  538-9,  541, 
557-8.  Peterboro,  Ont.,  598.  Petcrsburjr,  N. 
v.,  193.  PetersburK,c?»/.,3i7.  •Petersburg, 
Va.,   351.     Petersfield,   Eng.,    544.     Peters- 


thai,  G*r.t  481.  Peterwardein,  Slav.,  481. 
Pfalzbing,  Gtr. ,  4S0.  Philadelphia,  N.  Y., 
334.  ^Philadelphia,  Pa.,  29-33,  158,  164, 
i68,  172-3,  175,  X77-S,  aao,  237,  242,244-5. 
258,  303,  351,  354,  372.  377-8.  388-9,  406, 
426,  434,  453-4,  457,  485,  487.  494.  496-5<». 
504,  521-2,  526,  530,  574,  577-8,  58'f  584-5. 
589,  593-4,  596,  605,  610,  61S-30,  624-8,  643, 
652,  654-5,  660,  674,  677-9,  686,  779-So.  Phil- 
ippopolis,  Roum.^  4S1.  Philipsburg,  Pa., 
341.  Phlllipsburg,  N.  J.,  173.  Pbcenida, 
N.  Y.,  49S.  Pickering,  Oni.,  317.  Picton, 
N.  S.  IV.,  565-6.  Pictou,  N.  6".,  289,  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,  Omt.,  322.  Pim- 
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.  Piperaville,  Pa.,  497.  •Pipe- 
stone, Minn.,  787.  Pirot,  Serv.,  481.  Pisa, 
//.,  552.  Pitman  Grove,  N.  J.,  390.  •Pitts- 
burg, Pa.,  485.  495-6,  530.  587.  594-6, 
672,  780.  •Pittflfield,  Ms.,  iia,  X2I,  126, 
144, 148,  170,  188,  197,  500,  700,  768.  Pitts- 
field,  N.  H.,  577.  Pittsford.  Vt..  579. 
PtttSton,  Pa.,  30,  32,  341.  Pittstown, 
N.  Y.,  193,  219,  220.  Plainfield,  N.  J., 
164,  172,  177,  388,  777.  Plalnville,  Ct., 
137,  142,  145,  250,  582.  Piano,  HI.,  479. 
Plantagenet,  Que.,  328.  Planisville,  Ct., 
250,  770.  •Plattsburg.  N.  Y.,  x86,  an, 
775.  •Plattsmouth,  Neb.,  478.  Pleasant 
Comers,  Pa.,  34a.  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,  Eng. ,  645-6. 
•Plymouth,  Ind.,  786.  •Plymouth,  Ms., 
112.  •Plymouth,  N.  H.,  576.7.  "  Podunk." 
607.  Point  Claire,  Que.,  328.  Point  Fort- 
une, Qne.,  328.  Point  Levi,  Q*u.,  330,  575. 
Point  of  Bocks,  Md.,  51,  241-2.  Pomp, 
ton,  N.  J.,  30,  164-70.  Pont-a-Mousson,/V., 
139.  Pontoise,  Fr.,  558.  Pontook  Falls, 
Me.,  576.  Pontypridd,  Eng.,  683,  79a. 
Poplar  Hill,  ^«/.,  332.  Poplar  Springs, 
Md.,  349.  Portage,  N.  Y.,  30,  214-7,  222, 
5S2.  Port  Arthur,  bnt.,  789.  Port  BurweD, 
Qnt.y  331.  Port  Carbon,  Pa.,  342.  Port 
Chester,  N.  Y.,  54, 73, 75.  79. 9«,  «39f  a47-», 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


li 


sS2,  587.  Port  CItDton,  Pa.,  299,  343.  Port 
Deposit,  Md.,  372-3,  377.  Port  Dickinson, 
N.  Y.,  338.  Port  Dover,  OfU.^  33a.  Port 
Kliiabeih,  ^.  A/.,  696.  Port  Elgin,  Out., 
304, 3»5. 33»p 340,  789-  Port  Hastings, N.  S., 
289.  Port  Hawkesbury,  JV.  S.,  289-90. 
Fori  Henry,  N.  Y.,  211,  775.  Port  Hope, 
Out. ,  3 19,  324-5,  530.  ♦Port  Huron,  Mich. , 
J3a>  595.  Port  Jefferson  (L.  I.),  N.  Y., 
15a.  Port  Jerrls,  N.  Y.,  28,  31,  46,  189, 
198, 207, 219, 296,  298-9,  305,  307-8,  340,378, 
497.  5<»»  5'o»  582,  587,  610,  77$.  Port  Kent, 
N.  Y.,  211.  Portland,  Ky.,  235.  •Port- 
land, Me.,  Ill,  257-60,  268,  273-5,  279-80, 
503.  5»5-6.  573-5.  592»  594,  59*,  610,  616,  627, 
766.  Portlsnd,  N.  Y.,  206,  775.  Port- 
land, Or.,  492,  788.  Portland,  Pa.,  164. 
Port  Latour,  JV.  S.,  288.  Port  Mulgrave, 
.v.  S.,  289.  Port  Republic,  Va.,  347-8. 
Port  mclmiond  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  84,  156-S. 
Port  Rush,  /re.f  499.  Port  Ryerse,  Oni., 
332.  Portsmouth,  Eng-.,  539,  547,  636,  645, 
647,  792.  *Portsmoutb,  N.  H.,  12,  29,  31, 
33,  IOI-2,  112,  19a,  334,  500,  506-7,  512,  516, 
575.  577i  6>o»  7^-  •Portsmouth,  O.,  785. 
Povtsmooth,  Ow/.,  325.  Port  Stanley,  6>m/., 
33f.  Portyille,  N.  Y.,  223.  Potter,  Neb., 
478.  Potteraville,  N.  Y.,2ii.  PottStown. 
Pa-,  351,  484,  486,  578,  780.  •Pottsvllle, 
Pa.,  296,  342,  498,  780.  *PoughkeepBie, 
N.  Y.,  29,  31-3,  99.  "X,  .M»-3.  M6-7,  i7»-2, 
188,  194-S,  404.  498,  5»o.  5»3.  582,  775. 
Powell's  Gap,  Va.,  348.  Prague,  Attst., 
55*.  697-  Preea,  Ertg:,  536.  Prescott,  ^«/., 
296-8,  301,  3»7,  326-7.  Pressburg,  /fun,f 
481,  55t.  Preston,  Erig^.,  536-7,  556,  645. 
•Preston,  Minn.,  787.  Preston,  O.,  785. 
Preston,  On/.,  317.  Priest's,  Cal.,  491. 
•Princeton,  I]L,  479,  4S9,  787.  •Prince- 
ton, Ky.,  784.  Princeton,  Ms.,  610,  768. 
Prlnoeton,  N.  J.,  377,  434, 777.  Princeton, 
Om/.,  324.  Proctor,  Vt.,  579.  Profile  House, 
N.  H.,  577.  Promontory,  Utah,  477. 
Prompton,  Pa.,  339.  Prospect,  Ber.,  361. 
Prospect,  Ind.,  235.  Prospect,  N.  Y., 
2iow  Provins,  Er.,  480.  Providence,  Ind., 
235.  •ProTidence,  R.  I.,  12,  85, 104-9,378, 
5»3.  58'.  593.  597.  607,  628,  643,  769.  Pugh- 
town.  Pa.,  496.  Puhoi,  y.  Z.,  567.  Pn- 
ImU,  Pa.,  335-  Punxsutawney.  Pa.,  6x0, 
7«o.  Purcellville,  Va.,  497-  Putney,  Vt., 
»9.  5».  "9»  «82-3,  191. 
Quakertown,  N.  J.,  522.    Quarry,  Utah, 


477.  Quebec,  Qtu. ,  293,  297-8, 327-33,  574-5, 
578,  59a.  598.  Queenscliffe,  Kit/,,  560. 
QueensvilJe,  Oni.,  316.  Quincy,  Ms.,  106, 
109.    Quogve  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  154-5. 

Rahway,  N.  J.,  158,  167,  172,  678,  778. 
Ramseys,  N.  J.,  169.,  Rainsgnle,  Eng-.,  599. 
Randall  Bridge  Corner,  N.  Y.,  22.1.  Ran- 
dolph, N.  Y.,  215,  223,  775.  *Bawlins. 
Wyo.,  475,  478,  480.  *RaTenna.  O.,  785. 
Bavenswood  (L.  1.),  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.  Readville,  Ms.,  27.  Reamstown,  Pa., 
387.  Bed  Baak^  N.  J.,  778.  Redburn, 
^V-.  539-  Redding,  Ct,  138.  Redditch, 
Efigr.i  646,  79a.  Redfern,  N.  S.  W.,  ^65, 
696,  793.  Bed  Hook,  N.  Y.,  196.  «Bed- 
wood  City,  Cal.,  492.  Reilly's  Crossing, 
^w.,328.  Beistertown,  Md.,377.  Relay, 
Md.,  377.  *Beno,  Nev.,  476-7,  492.  Rens- 
selaer Falls,  N.  v.,  334.  Beynoldsburg, 
O.,  245,  485.  Rezonviile,  ^r.,  599.  Bbine- 
beck,  N.  Y.,  29,  194-6,  198,  378,  495. 
Riccly,  EKg.,  539.  Blchmond,  Ind.,  488, 
786.  *Blchmond  (S.  I.),  N.  Y..  157.  Rich- 
mond, OnL,  327,  332.  Bichmond,  Va.,  228, 
347,  35>-2,  593,  628,  7S2.  Richmond  Hill(L. 
1.).  N.  Y.,  775.  Richviile,  N.  Y.,  334- 
Ridgefield,  Ct.,  138.  Ridgefield,  N.  J.,  30, 
84,  165-6,  168,  778.  Ridpevi'le,  Md.,  377. 
Ridgeville,  O.,  479.  *Bidgway,  Pa.,  780. 
Rigaud,  ^f<^.,  328.  Rimini, //.,  552.  Rim- 
ouski,  Que.f  329-30.  Ripley,  Eng.f  537. 
Ripton,  Vt.,  578.  Riverdale,  111.,  519.  Riv- 
erdale,  N.  Y.,  80.  Blverhead(L.  I.).  N.  Y., 
31,  150,  152-5,  775-  Riversdale,  (?«/.,  315. 
Biverside,  Cal.,  491,  789.  Riverside,  N. 
Y.,  211.  Riverside,  Va.,  350.  Riverton, 
Ct.,  144,  770.  Riviire  Quelle,  Qiu-^  328, 
330,  Roach's  Point,  <?«/.,  316.  «Bouioke, 
Va.,  350.  Robbin&ton,  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,  111.,  787. 
Rock  Glen,  N.  Y.,  222.  •Bock  Island,  111., 
475,  478-9.  489.  595-  'Bockland,  Me.,  279, 
5»5.  574-  Rockland  Lake,  N.  Y.,  775.  Rock- 
lin,  Cal.,  476.  Bock  Springs,  Wyo.,  477, 
643,  788.    Bockville,  Ct,  77a    Rockville, 


Ui 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Vau,  347,  376.  Roggen,  Col.,  501.  Rome, 
lU.,  4S3.  Rome,  //.,  a,  427,  55a,  600,  Tbo, 
713.  Borne,  N.  Y.,  201,  20S,  210-11,  336, 
594i  776.  Romford,  Eng.^  792.  'KoillXiey, 
W.  Va.,  345.  Bondout,  N.  Y.,  340.  Ron- 
nebuTg,  Gtr,^  552.  Roselle,  N.  J.,  158,  778. 
RoMville,  N.  J.p  509.  Boslyn  (L.  I.),  N. 
Y.,  91, 151.  Rothenburg,  C^r.,  481.  Rother- 
ham,  N.  Z.,  569.  Rothrocksville,  Pa.,  387. 
Rotterdam,  Ht^.^  553,  599.  Rouen,  /V., 
480,  69S.  Round  Lake,  N.  Y.,  378.  Round 
Plains,  Ont.^  332.  Rowley,  Ms.,  29,  31, 
ioi«2.  Roxbury,  Ct.,  142.  Boxbnry,  Ms., 
109,  114,  76S.  Royalton,  Vt.,  578^.  Roy- 
erville,  Md.,  4S6.  Royston,  Eng.^  541. 
Ruggles,  O.,  785.  *BiishTiU6,  Ind.,  62S, 
786.  Rushworth,  K/r/.,  566.  Russell,  Ms., 
121,  aoS.  BuBSi&vllle,  Ind.,  786.  Ruthcr. 
ford,  N.  J.,  166-7,  778.  •Batland.  Vi.,  u, 
a9»  3»f  »»9.  »84-5.  i9'-a.  «94»  578-9.  594,  610, 
627, 766.  Rutledge,  N.  Y.,  223.  Ryckman*s 
Corners,  C?*/.,  332.  Bye,  N.  Y.,  247.  Rye 
Beach,  N.  H.,  512.  Rye  Patch,  Nev.,  476. 
Saalfeld,  Gtr.,  552.  Sabbath  Day  Point, 
N.  Y.,  186,  211.  Sackville,  N.  B.,  790W 
•8mo,  Me.,  575.  '"Saonunento,  Cal.,  476, 
491.  Sadieville,  Ky.,  31,  51,  226.  *8age> 
Tille,  N.  Y.,  211.  St.  Albans,  Eng.^  539, 
553.  St.  Albans.  Vt.,  500,  766.  St.  Andre, 
Q^'i  330.  St.  Andrews,  A^.  A,  274.  St. 
Andrew's,  N.  Y.,  196.  St.  Anne's,  Que,^ 
326-8,  330,  575.  St.  Armand,  Que.,  500.  St. 
Catherine's,  Ont.^  324,  326,  634-5.  •St. 
Charles,  Mo.,  525.  St.  Charles,  Oni.^  322. 
•St  ClairsviUe,  O.,  345.  'St.  Cloud, 
Minn.,  610,  787.  St.  Cloud,  N.  J.,  163.4.  St. 
.  Come,  Que.^  575.  St.  Fabian,  Que.^  329.  St. 
Flavie,  Que.^  329.  St.  Foy,  Qtte.^  330. 
St.  Gallen,  Swiiz.y  792.  St.  George,  Que.^ 
575.  St.  George's,  Ber.,  353,  355.  359,  362, 
610,  790.  St.  Gothard,  Swifs.,  552.  St. 
Helena,  Cal.,  490.  St.  Helens,  Eng.,  558. 
St.  Heliers,  Eng.,  792.  St.  Henry,  (7«r., 
575.  St.  Ives,  Ettg.,  539.  St.  Jean  Port, 
Que.,  330.  St.  John,  AT,  A,  274,  282,  293, 
635.  790-  St.  John,  OfU.t  3«2»  3M-  'St. 
Johns,  Mich.,  785.  St.  Johns,  Que.,  500. 
•St  Johnsbury,  Vt.,  1S4,  192.  St  Johns- 
ville,  N.  Y.,  200,  2o3.  St.  Joseph,  Que., 
574-5.  •St  Joseph,  Mo.,  595,  7S7.  St. 
Joseph's,  Ont.f  327-8.  St.  Lambert,  Que., 
SCO.  St  LouSs,  Mich.,  785.  St  Louis, 
Mo.,  a43f  3a«-3»  43*1  48S-7»  5o«,  S^S,  5*9. 


S75.  594-5.  6*7-8,  63a,  643,  652,  654,  671-2, 
677.  679,  787.  St  Luce,  Que.,  329.  St 
Maiy'S,  Kan.,  788.  Sl  Mary's,  Omt.,  331-s, 
789.  Sl.  Matthew's,  Ky.,  236.  St.  Neotts, 
Eng,  539,  541.  •St  Paul,  Minn.,  486^, 
595.  627,  7S8.  St.  Peters,  C.  B.,  289.  Sl 
Peters,  P.  iE.  /.,  291.  St.  Petersburg,  Xms., 
2.  St.  Pierre,  Que.,  330.  St.  ILoch,  Que., 
330.  Sl  Simon,  Que.,  329.  St.  Stephen, 
//.  B.,  265-6.  St.  Thomas,  Ofti,,  301,  312, 
3«4-5.  3*9.  3301.  634-5,  783.  St  Valier. 
Que.,  330.  Salamanca,  N.  Y.,  206,  223. 
•Salem,  Ind.,  235.  *Salem,  Ms.,  16,  29, 
31,  101-2,  112,  512,  529,  673,  768.  •Salenu 
N.  J.,  390,  52«.  'Salem,  N.  Y.,  193. 
•Salem,  Or.,  78S.  •Salem.  Va.,  34S.  Sal- 
Cord,  E//g.,  543,  792.  •Salinas,  Cal.,  490, 
494.  Salisbury,  Ct,  147,  700.  Salisbury, 
Eng.f  539,  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,  Eta.,  570W 
Sandhurst,  Tir/.,  562-3,  566, 612,  793.  *San- 
dusky.O.,  595.  Sandwich,  111, 479.  Sandy 
Creek,  N.  Y.,  335-  Sandy  HiU.  N.Y.,  189. 
Sandy  Sprinf ,  Md.,  376.  San  Felipe,  CaL, 
489.    •San  Francisco,  Cal.,  2,  48,  204, 397. 

43 «.  473-5,  480,  489,  492-3.  499.  57©,  57».  595. 

625, 627-8,  632,  661,  672,  789.  *San  Jose, 
Cal.,  489-94.  789-  San  Juan,  Cal.,  490. 
San  Lorenzo,  Cal.,  490,  493.  •San  Lnls 
Obispo,  Cal.,  7S9.'  San  Pablo,  Cal.,  475. 
•San  Bafael,  Cal.,  490-  Santa  Clara,  Cal., 
491-2.  *Santa  Cruz,  Cal.,  490-2.  •Santa 
Fe,  N.  Mex.,  594.  •Santa  Boca,  Cal.,  490. 
Santee  Agency,  Neb.,  78S.  Saratoga,  N. 
Y.,  186,  192-3,  197-8,  20S,  211,  378,  497,  5^3, 
578,  627,  776.  Sardinia,  N.  Y.,  222.  Saren- 
grad,  Slav.,  481.  Saniia,  On^.,  332.  Sas- 
seraw,  /nd.,  572.  Saugatuck,  Ct.,  138-9. 
Saumur,  ^r.,  645.  Saunders  ville,  Ms.,  109. 
•Sayannah,  Ga.,  292,  592.  Savemc,  Ger., 
481.  Savin  Rock,Ct.,  138, 400, 40a.  Saybrook, 
Ct,  13a.  Sayre,  Pa,,  780.  Sayville  (L.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  12,  51,  54,  150,  152-3.  Scarboro*, 
Eng.,  792.  Scarboro',  Oni.,  316.  Schells- 
burg.  Pa.,  485.  •Schenectady,  N.  Y.,  9, 
12,  28,  32-3,  199-202,  2o3,  479,  48S,  610,  776^ 
Schenevua,  N.  Y.,  776.  Schodack,  N.  Y., 
29,  51,  190,  342,  510,  552.  Schuylersville,  N. 
Y.,  74, 186, 190,  192,  246,  610,  776.  Sehnyl- 
kill  Haven,  Pa.,  498.  Scio,  N.  Y.,  ny 
Sciota,  Pa.,  341.    Scotch  Plains,  N.  J.,  17a. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


liii 


Scotland,  Ont.^  332.  Scott  Haven,  Pa.,  78a 
*8enntQn,  Pa.,  340,  501,  610,  780.  Sea- 
bright,  N.  J.,  778.  Seabrook,  N.  H.,  103. 
Sealorth,  OnL^  3i3f  3>5t  324»  333-  Seal 
Harbor,  Me.,  276-7.  Seaisport,  Me.,  574. 
•Baaittte.  Wash.,  78S.  SebriDgville,  Ont., 
317.  Seiitan,  Ptr.y  571.  Selkirk,  ScoL^  556^ 
Semendria,  Serv.,,  43 1.  Semon's  Cap,  Va., 
348.  Senate,  N.  Y.,  208,21a.  Seneca  Falls, 
N.  Y.,  2o3,  213,  776.  Sennen,  Eng.^  555. 
Serra  Capriola,  //.,  55a.  Setauket  (L.  l.)» 
N.  Y.,  15s.  Sevenoaks,  Eng.^  645.  *Sew- 
ard.  Neb.,  485-6.  Sewlckley,  Pa.,  780. 
Beymonr,  Cl,  140.  Seymour,  Vict.^  564. 
Sezanne,  Fr.,  480.  Shady  Side,  N.  J.,  81, 
83.  Shaftesbury,  Emg.,  536.  Shakertt,  Ct., 
aSt.  Shakers,  Ky.,  226-7.  Shakers,  N.  Y., 
197.  Shakespeare,  OtU.^  316-7.  Shanghai, 
d/',  572.  Shap  Fells,  Eng.^  536.  Sharing- 
toD,  Qh».^  500.  Sharon,  Ct.,  143,  147. 
Sharon,  Ms.,  27,  to6,  109.  Sharon,  N.  Y., 
21$.  Sharon,  Ont.^  316.  Sharon  Springs, 
N.  Y.,  197,  378.  Sharood,  Per.^  571. 
Sharpaburg,  Md.,  384.  Sheakleyrille, 
Pa.,  780.  Shed's  Comers,  N.Y.,  337.  Shecr- 
nesswm-Sea,  Eng.^  645.  Sheffield,  Eng.^ 
S39tS57*792'  Sheffield,  111.,  479.  Sheffield, 
Ms.,  143-4,  i47i  579i  700.  Shefford,  EHg.^ 
646.  Shelburne,  N.  S.,  288.  Shelbume, 
Onf.,  316.  Shelby,  N.  Y..  222.  •Shelby- 
vUle,  Ind.,  786.  •Shelbyyllle,  Ky..  232, 
S3^7>  527-  Sheldon,  111.,  787-  Shellsburg, 
Pa-»  485. 497-3.  Shepherdstown,  w.  Va., 
aa4, 384, 610,782.  *Sheplierd8vllle,  Ky. ,  237. 
Slierbrooke,  Que.,  32S.  Sheridan,  N.  Y., 
393.  Shsrifabad,  Per.,  571.  Sherman,  Col., 
477.  Sherman,  N.  Y.,  587,  776.  Sherman 
Center,  N.  Y. ,  5S7.  Shippensbiirg,  Pa. ,  344. 
ShoemakersviUe,  Pa.,  343.  Shoreham,  Vt., 
579.  Short  Hills,  N.  J,,  30,  162-3,  »74. 
Shxeve,  O.,  785.  Shrewsbury,  Eng.,  539, 
554,64a.  Shrewsbury,  Ms.,  no,  113,  117, 
aoS,  514.  Shrewsbury,  N.  J.,  778.  'Sidney, 
Neb.,  478.  489.  Sidney,  ^.  5'.,  289.  •Sid- 
ney, O.,  501,  78s.  SUver  Creek,  N.  Y., 
50,  aoi-5,  322,  488,  610,  776.  Silver  Lake, 
N.  Y.,  323.  Silver  Spring,  Md.,  376.  Sim- 
coe,  Omt.f  315,  33i-a,  59^,  634-6,  655,  677, 
789.  Smpach,  Attsi,,  481.  SlmpsonviUe, 
Ky.,  332,  2x6,  485.  Simsbury,  Ct.,  123,  125, 
14$.  Sinelairville,  N.  Y.,  223,  776.  Sin- 
gac,  N.  J.,  84,  165.  Sing  Sing,  N.  Y.,  76, 
194.     *Bloilx  Ciiy*  1^1  787-    Sivas,  T$tr., 


483.  Sittingbottme,i?Mf/-.,  547,  793.  Sixteea 
Acres,  Ms.,  124.  •Skowhegan,  Me.,  373^, 
515.  Sligo,  Md.,349,  374,  376.  SloaitbuTg, 
N.  Y.,  i7».  Smilhfiald,  Eng.,  539.  Smith- 
field,  Ky.,  236.  Smith's,  Ber.,  790.  Smiths- 
boro,  N.  Y.,  319.  Smith's  Creek,  Cal.,  49a 
Smith's  Falls,  Oh/.,  327.  Smith's  Ferry, 
Ms.,  31,  118-20,  126-7,  321,  579.  Smith's 
Mills,  N.  Y.,  223.  Sraiihiown  (L.  I.),  N. 
Y.,158.  Smithville,  Ky.,237.  Smithville, 
N.  J.,  671,  778.  Smithville,  O.,  245. 
Snakeshanks,  Tas.,  563.  Snicker's  Ferry, 
Va.,  383.  Snydersville,  Pa.,  341.  Sofia, 
£m/.,  481.  •Solon,  Me.,  573-4,  610,  766. 
Somerset,  Ber.,  358,  361.  Somerset,  Eng., 
645,  646.  •Somenet,  Pa  ,  496.  Somer- 
ville.  Ma.,  768.  •Somerville,  N.  J.,  164, 
>72,  377i  610,  733,  778.  Somerville,  Va., 
334.  Sorel,  Que.,  3*8-9.  Souris,  M  S.,  29a 
S.  Abington  Station,  Ms.,  512-3,  76S.  S. 
Amaua,  la.,  479-  Southampton  (L.  I.),  N. 
Y.,  155.  Southampton,  Ofti.,  315.  *S. 
Bend,  Ind.,  479-  S.  Bethlehem,  Pa.,  780^ 
Southboro',  Ms. ,  1 14, 5 M.  S.  Boiton,  Ma., 
768.  Southbridge,Ms.,  76S.  S.  Bridge  water, 
7<M.,563.  S.  Canaan,  Ct.,  Z43.  S.  Canton, 
Ms.,  109.  S.  Chioago,  111.,  519.  S.  Deer- 
field,  Ms.,  119,  182-3.  S.  Dover,  N.  Y.,  582. 
S.  Egremont,  Ms.,  14B,  700.  Southfield,  N. 
Y.,  171.  S.  Framingham,  Ms.,  21, 103,  m, 
128,258,  513,  575,  76S.  S.  Gardner,  Ms., 
768.  S.  Hadley,  Ms.,  119-20.  S.  Hadley 
Falls,  Ms.,  120, 126, 580, 76S.  Sonthington, 
Ct.,  139,  25a  S.  Jersey,  Pa.,  390.  S.  Kil- 
vington,  ^Mf.,  792.  S.  Lee,  Ms.,  148.  S. 
Lyme,  Ct.,  130.  S.  Meriden,  Ct.,  134.  S. 
Mountain,  Md.,  349.  S.  New  Market,  N. 
H.,  575.  766.  S.  Norfolk,  Ct.,  143.  S. 
Norwalk,  Ct.,  138-9  S.  Orange.  N.  J., 
160,  162,  509.  S.  Olselic,  N.  Y.,  336-7.  S. 
Oyster  Bay  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  150,  152,  154.  S. 
Paris,  Me.,  574.  S.  Pitcher,  N.  Y.,  337. 
S.  Pbtte,  Neb.,  478.  Sonthport,  Ct.,  138, 
139.  S.  Pownal,  Vt.,  193.  S.  Bayalton, 
Vt.,  578.  S.  Sdtuate,  Ms.,  76S.  Soutlisea, 
^"Sr-f  599-  S.  Vallejo,  Cal.,  491.  S.  Ver- 
non, Vt.,  183.  Southwell,  Emg.,  539.  S. 
West  Harbor,  Me.,  574.  South  wick,  Ms., 
121,  123,  125,  144,  146,  579.  S.  Yarra,  yicf., 
563,  794-  Spanish  Point,  Ber.,  35^,  361. 
Sparkill,  N.  Y.,  80,  5«6-7.  •Sparta,  Wis., 
787.  Speier,  ^r.,552.  Spencer,  Ms.,  103, 
no,  114,  768.    Spencerport,  N.  Y.,  317. 


liv 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Sperryville,  Va.,  35a,  379.  Spezia,  //.,  552. 
Spiegeltown,  N.Y.,  193.  Spofford*s  Point,  N. 
Y.,  96.  ^Springfield,  111.,  486, 501, 524,610, 
787.  Spriugfield,  Ire.^  546.  ^Springfield, 
Ky.,  229-30,  234-  'Springfield,  Ms.,  11-2, 
a6-33»42,  46,  58,  61,  103-4,  log,  113-29,  138, 
M4-6,  i49»  »5».  »7»-*.  »79-83,  i9«.  i93-4»  196, 
208,  251-4,  259,  294-5,  3»«-3»  333.  353,371. 
376-7,  388,  391,  400,  404,  470.  488.  491.  493. 
500-X,  508,  510,  519,  523-5.  527,  547.  569. 
579,  580-2,  593,  597,  603,  605,  607,  610,  6x7, 
619,  627-8,  631-3,  654,  660-6,  672,  675,  677, 
679,  703,  706,  709-10,  712,  722,  768.  Spring- 
field, N.  J.,  164.  ^Springfield,  O.,  245, 
485,  4S8,  501, 627,  785.  Springfield,  Out.,  318. 
Springfield,  Vt.,  766.  SpringyiUe,  N. 
Y.,  157.  Staatsburg,  N.  Y.,  196.  Stafford, 
-^V-,  539,  792-  Stafford,  N.  Y.,  222.  Staf- 
fordville,  Ont,,  332.  Stamboul,  Tarr.,  482. 
Stamford,  Eng.^  539-41,  64^.  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,  3J>8,  495,  497,  5<»,  6io,  782. 
Stawell,  Vkt.y  561-2,  565-6,  696.  Stayner, 
Ont.^  316.  Steelton,  Pa.,  244-  Stemlcrs- 
ville,  Pa.,  341.  'SteubenviUe.  O.,  485. 
Stevenage,  Eng.^  541.  Stiermark,  Aust.^  552. 
Stillwater,  N.  Y.,  186,  190,  192,  610,  776. 
Stockbridge,  Ms.,  148,  510,700.  Stockholm, 
Sxve.^  700.  Stockport,  N.  Y.,  527-8,  776. 
•Stockton,  Cal,  491-2-  Stockton,  Me., 
574.  Stone,  Eng.^  4S0.  Stoneham,  Ms., 
769.  Stoneham,  Oni.^  330.  Stonehenge, 
Eng.^  539.  Stone  House,  Nev.,  476.  Ston- 
ington,  Ct.,  85,  593.  Stony  Creek,  Ct.,  132. 
Stony  Kill,  N.  Y.,  194.  Stony  Point,  OfU., 
332.  Stouffville,  Ont.^  316.  Slow,  Ms., 
579.  Stowe,  Vt.,  579.  Stoyestown,  Pa., 
485.  Strafford,  N,  H.,  577.  Strasburg,  Ger., 
481,  545.  552,  <J97-  Strasburg,  Mo.,  485- 
Strasburg,  Va.,  244,  345,  347-8,  35o-«, 
6to,  782.  Stratford,  Ct.,  37, 138,  142,  249. 
Stratford,  ^ifjf.,  645.  Stratford,  A^.  Z.,  569. 
Stratford,  OiU.,  315,  3«7.  324,  332,  635. 
Strathallan,  Ont.^  317.  Strathburn,  Ont.,  331. 
Strathroy,  Ont. ,  3 19,  332.  Streclsville,  On/. , 
318.  StrenburB,^i«/.,48i.  *Stroud8burg, 
Pa.,  296,  299,   302,    34 1-     Stuart,   la.,  478. 

Stayvesant  Landing,   N.  Y.,  190,   192- 


Suckasunny,  N.  J.,  164.  Suez,  Eg.,  571. 
Suffero,  N.  Y.,  169,  171,  192,  198,  582,  5^*7, 
610,  776.  Suffleld,  Ct.,  122-J,  125,  146,  770. 
Suisun,  Cal.,  475,  491.  Summerdale,  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.,  7S2.  Sunderland, 
Eng.,  545,  645.  Sunderland,  Ms.,  579. 
Surbiion,  Eng.,  551.  Susquehanna,  Pa.. 
219,  296,  338,  780.  Sutton,  Onf.f  316^ 
Swainsville,  N.  Y.,  222.  Swansea,  Eng., 
645-6.  Swedesboro,  N.  J.,  39a  Swift 
Run  Gap,  Va.,  348.  *Sycamore,  ill.,  787- 
Sydenham,  Efig.,  405,  792.  Sydney,  N.  S. 
f^-t  5^»,  562,  564-6,  570,  652,  696,  793. 
Syossei(L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  151,530-  •Syracnse, 

N.  Y.,   12,  30,  32-3,  44,    50-1,    201-2,  20S,    212, 

219,  298,  300,  305-6,  335-6,  343,  346,  479.  4S8, 
577,  594,  776.    Szeksard,  //«<«.,  481. 

Tabbas,  Per.,  571.  Tabreez,  Per.,  482- 
Ta-ho,  C*/.,  572.  Tain,  Sea/.,  645.  Ta- 
kapo,  AT.  Z.,  568.  Talbot,  Ont.,  332.  Tal- 
hot,  l^ici.,  560.  Tamaqua,  Pa.,  299,  302, 
342,  497-8.  Tam worth,  N.  H.,  576.  Tan- 
nersville,  N.  Y.,  188,  498.  Tappan,  N.  Y., 
30,  80.  Tara,  On/.,  315.  Tarawcra,  JV.  Z., 
567.  Tarcutta,  Vict,  561.  Tariff ville,  Ct., 
145.  Tarrytown,  N.  Y.,  27-32,  50-3,  75-80, 
91,  9S-9,  139,  171,  187,  193-5,  »98,  258,  275. 
281,  343,  404,  5S2,  587,  610,  776.  Tarsus, 
Per.,  482.  Tartar  Bazardjik,  Roum.,  481. 
Tashkent,  Rus.,  570.  Tatham,  Ms.,  252. 
Taunton,  Eng.,  554.  *Taimton,  Ms.,  la, 
28,  31,  33,  io6,  109,  511,769.  Tavistock, 
Oni.,  315-7.  Taylor,  N.  Y.,  336.  rTayloTB- 
ville,  Ky.,  236-7.  TaylorsviUe,  Pa.,  341. 
Taylorworth,  Oni.,  327.  Teconia,  Nev.,  477. 
Tecumseh,  Ont.,  301,  311.  Teheran,  Per., 
473-4,  480,  482-3,  570-1,  792.  Telegraph, 
Mo.,  525.  Telford,  Pa.,  388-9.  Temple- 
ton,  Ms.,  579,  769.  Tempsford,  Eng.,  541. 
Tenafly,  N.  J.,  80.  Terang,  Vici.,  559-61, 
563.  Terrace,  Utah,  477-  'Terre  Haato, 
Ind.,  486-7,  595,  786,  Terry  ville,  Ct.,  142. 
Thamesford,  Oni.,  324,  332.  Thamesville, 
Ont.,  331-2.  Thomaston,  Ct.,  142,  770. 
^Thomasvllle,  Ga.,  782.  Thompson,  Pa., 
339.  Thompeonville,  Ct.,  32-3,  122,  125, 
181,  Thorndale,  Ont.,  332.  Thomdike, 
Ms.,  104,  117,  r8i.  Thomhill,  Oni.,  316. 
Thornton,  N.  H.,  577.  Thorold,  Oni.,  789. 
Thrapston,  Eng.,  540.     Three   Rivars,  Ms., 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


Iv 


^9^  104,  Z17.  Three  Rivers,  Qite.t  500. 
Throgg's  Neck,  N.  Y.,  74,  246.  Thurso, 
0ml.,  saS.  Thurao,  Scot,  555.  Ticon- 
deroga,  N.  Y.,  29,  51,  185-6,  an,  578. 
Tiffin,  la.,  479,  488.  Tiflis,  Rms.,  571. 
Ttgnish,  N.  S.,  29a  Tilghraau's  Isbnd, 
Md..  7S2.  Tioga,  Pa.,  594.  Tioga  Center, 
N.  Y.,  219.  TisUlwa,  lU.,  489.  Tltui- 
Yille,  Pa.,  610,  781.  Tiverton,  Ofti.t  315. 
Tiverton,  R.  I.,  108.  TivoH,  N.  Y.,  51a 
Togus,  Me.,  573.  Tolchester,  Md.,  589. 
Toledo,  O.,  479»  488,  501,  595,  785.  •Tol- 
land,  Ct.,  149.  Tolland,  Ms.,  144.  Tomah, 
Wis.,  787.  Tompkinsvaie  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  32, 
iss>  157-  Tomsk,  ^Mf.,  570.  Tonawaada, 
N.  Y..  52,  203,  215,  217.  *Topeka.  Kan., 
591,  7S8.  Torbet-i-Haiderie,  /'rr.,  571. 
Toronto,  Oh^.,  300-f,  305,  315-30,  324-6,  331, 
333.  530,  593.  59S.  633-5, 669,  789.  Torxing- 
ton,  Ct.,  144.  TottenvUle  (S.  I.),  N.  Y., 
»55.  »58,  377.  •Towaada,  Pa.,  ii,  30,  32, 
219,  610,  78 1.  *Towion,  Md.,  377.  Tra- 
cadte,  A\  5".,  2S9.  Tralec,  /re.,  695,  792. 
Tremont,  N.  Y.,  73,  583.  Trenton,  111., 
48S.  •Trenton,  N.  J.,  99,  164,  i73»  5"i 
610,  77S.  Trenton,  N.  Y.,  210,  582.  Trcn- 
too,  0«/.,  319,  321,  323-  Trenton  Falls,  N. 
Y.,  30,  33,  210,  212,  334i  336.  Trexlertown, 
Pa.,  3B7.  Triangle,  N.  Y.,  498.  Trieste, 
Atut.t  552.  TrochsviUe,  Pa.,  341.  Trois 
Pistoles,  ^MT.,  329-30.  Trouville,  Fr.,  480. 
♦Troj,  N.  Y.,  85,  190.1,  208,  310,  378,  594, 
776.  Trockee,  Cal..  476.  Tmro,  N.  5"., 
*^»  53^^  790*  Tubby  Hook,  N.  Y.,  72,  80. 
Tubingen,  Ger.,  481.  Tuckahoe,  N.  Y.,  79, 
776.  Tuckertown,  Ber.^  360.  •TuCSOn, 
Ariz.,  789.  Turners,  N.  Y.,  587.  Turner'! 
Falls,  Ms.,  183.  Tuscarora,  N.  Y.,  214. 
Tuscarora,  Pa.,  342.  *Tu8kegee,  Ala., 
783.  Turin,  //.,  427,  55a,  700.  Tuxedo, 
N.  Y.,  5S7.  Tuxford,  Eng^.,  540.  Twin 
Mountain  House,  N.  H.,  577.  Two  Bridges, 
N.  J.,  169.     Tyngsboro,  Ms.,  508. 

Uddevalla,  Stve.,  59-),  792.  Uhlersville, 
Pa.,  497.  'ITklali,  Cal.,  490-  Ulm,  Ger., 
481.  Umballa,  /nd.,  572.  TTnadllla,  N. 
Y.,  49S.  Underwood,  Ont.,  315.  •Union, 
Mo.,  486.  Union,  N.  Y.,  218.  Union 
Forge,   Pa.,  49S.     •UniontOWn,   Pa.,    245, 

496,610,  781.  Unlonville,  Ct.,  145.  Up- 
per B.irtlett,  N.  H.,  576.  Upper  Hull, 
N.  Z.,  569.  Upper  Lachine,  Que.,  328. 
UT>p'r  Lisle,  N.  Y.,  337.    Upper  Montclair, 


N.  J.,  167.  778.  Upper  Red  Hook,  N.  Y., 
196.  Uppervllle,  Va.,  496.  Upton,  Ky., 
31,  23f.  •Urbana,  O.,  501.  Utica,  Ind., 
235.  *Utica,  N.  Y.,  12,  32-3,  201-2,  ao8-io, 
2t3,  220-1,  334,  336,  479,  488,  594,  610,  776. 
Utrecht,  H0I.,  645,  651,  708,  792.  Ux- 
bridge,  Ms.,  109. 

Valatie.  N.  Y.,  148.  197.  Valley  Creek, 
Pa.,  389.  Valley  Station,  Ky.,  237.  Valois, 
Que.,  328.  Vanceboro,  Me.,  596.  •Van- 
dalla,  111.,  595.  Vandalia,  O.,  485.  Van- 
derbik's  La*nding  (S.  I.),  N.  Y.,  32.  Van 
Deusenville,  Ms.,  148.  Van  Homesville, 
N.  v.,  776.  Varennes,  Oni.,  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.  }.,  i6x,  164-5,  ^^7>  »75i  *oi,  208. 
Verplank's  Point,  N.  Y.,  776.  *YerBaille8, 
Ky-i  233,  236.  Versailles,  N.  Y.,  223. 
Vestal,  N.  Y.,  218.  •Vickrtnrg.  Miss., 610, 
628,  783.  Victor,  la.,  479.  Vienna,  ./4m/., 
406,  426,  481,  552,  55S,  651,  697.  Vienna, 
N.J. ,164.  Vienna,  Va.,  376.  •Vincennes, 
Ind.,  235, 505.  Vineland,  N.  J.,  390,  522. 
Vineyard  Haven,  Ms.,  769.  Violet  Town, 
Vict.,  564-6.  Vitry  le  Francis,  Fr.,  480. 
Vittoria,  Oni.,  332.  Voiron,  Fr.,  698. 
Volusia,  N.  Y.,  587. 

•Wadena,  Minn.,  788.  Wadsworth, 
Nev.,  476.  *Wahpeton,  Dak.,  788.  Waiau, 
N.  Z.,  568-9.  Waikari,  N.  Z.,  568.  Wai- 
pawa,  A^.  Z.,  569.  Wakefield,  Ms.,  112, 
575.769.  Wake6eld,  N.  H.,  577-8.  Wal- 
den,  N.  Y.,  198,  776.  Walkerton,  Oni., 
315.  Wnllacetown,  Out.,  312,  314.  Wal- 
lara,  Vict.,  564.  Wallingford,  Ct.,  133-4, 
149,  581.  Wallingford,  Vt.,  766.  Wal- 
more,  N.  Y.,  222.  Walnut  Grove,  N.  J., 
164.  Walpole,  Ms.,  107,  113.  Waltham, 
Ms.,  29,  51,  103,  579,  769.  Walton,  Eng., 
599.  Walton,  Ky.,  225.  Wanaque,  N.  J., 
170.  Wandsford,  Eng.,  539.  Wandsworth 
Common,  Eng.,  792.  Wanganui,  N.  Z., 
56S,  570.  Wangaretla,  Vict.,  564-5.  Wan- 
non  Falls,  Vict.,  560,  563.  Wappinger'B 
Falls,  N.  Y.,  194-5,  776.  Wardsville,  Oni., 
331.  Ware,  Eng.,  541.  Ware,  Ms.,  29,  51, 
104,  no,  1 13-4,  117,  181,  579.  Warehouse 
Point,  Ct.,  580,  582,  559.  Warren,  Ms., 
104,  no,  114,  117,  i8r.  •Warren,  O.,  785. 
Warren,  R.  I.,  107-8, 323, 581,  769.    War- 


Ivi 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


reniburg,  N.  Y.,  an.  ^Wairenton,  Va., 
350.  35*f  374f  376»  610,  782.  Warrington, 
Eng.t  480,  536.  W.irrnambool,  Vict.^  559-61, 
563,  794.  •Warsaw,  N.  Y.,  221.  Warwick, 
E*tS-,  53>  Warwick,  Ont.^  332.  •Wasll- 
ington,  D.  C,  22,  25,  28-9,  31,  33,  37.  5«, 
$S,  116,  173,  198,  241-2,  244,  2581  296,  3*31 
346-52.  370-4.  3  A  377-8.  382,  384.  388,  464, 
484,488,495.497.  499.  501,  5o8»  5«i.  5»3-5. 
5*3-4.  588,  59U  610,  652,  658,  617,  619,627-8, 
724t  733.  7S2.  Washington,  Mv.  121,  r93. 
Washington,  N.  H.,  575.  Washington, 
N.  J.,  610,  778.  Washington,  O.,  245. 
Washington,  Pa.,  245,  379,  496.  781. 
Washington  Comers,  Cal.,  490,  493.  Wash- 
ington Heights,  111.,  388.  Washington 
Heights,  N.  Y.,  33,  5^3.  Washington  Hoi- 
low,  N.  Y.,  510.  Waterbory,  Ct.,  140, 142, 
582,  770.  Waterbtiry,  Vt.,  766.  Water- 
ford,  /r*.,  546.  Waterford,  N.  Y.,  190-2. 
Waterloo,  N.  J.,  163,  173.  •Waterloo,  N. 
Y.,  207-8, 212.  Waterloo,  OnL,  316.  Wa- 
terloo, Pa.,  379.  Watersford,  Ind.,  237. 
Walcrtown,  Ct.,  142.  •Watertown.  N.  Y., 
aoi,  210,  594,  776.  Watertown,  Ont.^  333, 
336.  Watertown,  Pa.,  334.  'Watertown, 
Wis.,  787.  Waterville,  Ct.,  582.  Water- 
▼llle,  Kan.,  485.  Waterville,  Me.,  573-4, 
610,766.  Watford,  Ont.,  332.  'Watkins, 
N.  Y.,  216,  498,  776.  Watsessing,  N.  J., 
160.  Watsonville,  Cal.,  490,  492.  Wa- 
verly,  N.Y.,30,  32,  50,  51,  21S-9.  Waverly, 
Pa.,  3 » I.  •  •  Way  back  ville, "  607.  Wayland, 
Ms.,  769.  Wayland,  N.  Y.,  216.  Waymart, 
Pa.,  340.  Wayne,  Me.,  574.  Wayne,  N.  J., 
165.  Wayne,  Pa.,  30,  389.  Waynesboro, 
Pa.,  385,  388,  610, 781.    Waynesboro,  Va., 

350-1.  •Waynesburg.Pa.  ,610,781.  Weedon, 
Eng.,  553,  557-  Weedsport,  N.  Y.,  776. 
Weehawken,  N.  J.,  81,  85.  Weirs,  N.  H., 
576-7.  Weissport,  Pa.,341,  781.  Welcome, 
OiU.,  319.  Wellesley,  Ms.,  29,  103,113, 769. 
Wellingore,  Eng.^  539,  Wellington,  Eng., 
536,  556.  Wellington,  A^.  Z.,  566, 568-70.  660, 
794.  Wellington,  S.  Aus.,  5<5o-i.  Wells. 
Nev.,  477.  •Wellsboro,  Pa.,  610,  781. 
Wellsburg,  N.  Y.,  2 18.  Wells  River,  Neb., 
489.  Wells  River,  Vt.,  576-8.  Welktown, 
N.  Y.,2ii.  WellsviUe,  N.  Y.,  217,223. 
Wclwyn,  Eng.f  541,  792.  Wendover,  Ofit., 
328.  Wenham,  Ms.,  101.  Wcrefordsburg, 
Pa.,  496.  Werribee,  K/f/.,  559.  Wesley, 
N.   Y.,  223.      W.   Ansonia,  Ct.,  770.    W. 


Avon,  N.Y.,  213.  W.  Baden,  Ind.,  235.  W. 
Becket,  Ms.,  121,  20S.  W.  Bethel,  Vt.,  578. 
W.  Bloomfield,  N.  Y.,  20S,  212.  West- 
boro,  Ms.,  iio-i,  128,610,  769.  W.  Brat- 
tleboro,  Vt.,  182.  W.  BriniBeld,  Ms.,  26,  31, 
110,  ir7,  128,  aoS.  Westbrook,  Ct.,  132. 
W.  Brook6eld,  Ms.,  29,  ro4,  117.  W.  Ches- 
ter, N.  Y.,  99,  246.  'W.  Chester,  Pa., 
244.  388-9,  781,  W.  Qaremont,  N.  H.,  576. 
W.  Cornwall,  Ct.,  147.  W.  Cornwall,  Vt., 
578.  W.  Coventry,  N.  Y.,  497-8.  West- 
erly,  R.  I.,  769.  W.  Farms,  N.  Y.,  95. 
Westfield,  Ms.,  I20-6,  144,  149,  192,  488, 
527,  769.  Westfield,  N.  J.,  172,  588,  778. 
Westfield.  N.  Y.,  50,  55,  58,  205-6,  222, 
313,  4S8.  W.  Gardner,  Ms.,  500.  W. 
Granby,  Ct.,  145.  W.  Hampton  (L.  I.),  N. 
Y.,  154.  W.  Hartford,  Ct,  137.  W.  Ha- 
ven, Ct.,  12S,  134,  138,  140,  149,  249.  w. 
Henniker,  N.  H.,  508.  W.  Livingston,  N. 
J.,  163.  W.  Long  Branch.  N.  J.,  778. 
W.  Milan,  N.  H.,  576.  •Westminster, 
Md.,  377,  782.  Westminster,  Ms.,  579. 
Westminster,  Oh/.,  331.  Westminster,  Vt., 
184.  Westmoreland,  N.  Y.,  776.  W.  Nas- 
sau, N.  Y.,  208.  W.  New  Brighton  (S.  I.), 
N.  Y.,  157,776.  W.  Newton,  Ms.,  113. 
W.Newton,  Pa.,  781.  Weston,  Ct.,  139. 
Weston,  EMg.,  694.  W.  Orange,  N.  J.,  610, 
778.  W.  Ossipee,  N.  H.,  576.  W.  Phll»- 
delphia.  Pa.,  781.  W.  Point,  Ga.,  594, 
6io,  783.  W.  Point,  Ind.,  237.  W.  Pc^t, 
N.  Y.,  194, 198.  Westport,  Ct.,  138-9,  248-9. 
W.  Randolph,  Vt.,  57S,  6ro,  627,  651,  672, 
766.  W.  Roxbury,  Ms.,  107.  W.  Butland, 
Vt.,  184.  W.  Saugerties,  N.  Y.,  188.  W. 
Springfield,  Ms.,  29,  30,  42,  51,  58,  no,  117, 
120,  122-3,  "5-7,  179,  181,  183,  194,  252-3, 
581,  769.  W.  Springfield,  Pa.,  205-6,  4791 
W.  Stockbridge,  Ms.,  148,  208.  W.  Suffield, 
Ct.,  146.  W.  Sydney,  M  S.  IV.,  793.  W. 
Troy,  N.  Y.,  192.  Westville,  Ct.,  140, 
394,  582.  Westville,  N.  S.,  79a  W.  Wai^ 
ren,  Ms.,  no.  114.  W.  Woodstock,  N.  Y., 
336-7.  W.  Worthington,  Ms.,  121.  Wey- 
mouth, Eng.y  685,  689.  Weymonth,  Ms., 
769.  Weymouth,  A^.  5".,  283-4,  ft^ 
Whately,  Ms.,  119.  Whcatley,  Ont.,  31a 
Wheaton.  Md.,  376.  Wheatville,  N.  Y.. 
222.  •Wheeling.  W.  Va.,  242-3,  245,  487-8, 
50*.  595.  610,  628,  782.  Whippany,  N.  J., 
163-4.  Whitby,  Oiti.y  319-20,  7S9.  Whit- 
church, Eng.,    536.     Whitefield,  N.  H., 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


Ivii 


S77-  Whitefaatn,  N.Y.,  it,  29, 119,  (84, 186, 
191-1,776.  VVhiceHorse,  Pa.,  390.  *Wlilte 
PUtaiS,  N.  Y.,  71,  74-6,  138-9.  5S3,  702. 
White  Blver  Jnootioii,  Vt.,  500,  576,  578. 
Wtaiteatown,  N.  Y.,  201,  310,  213.     White 

Sulphur  Springs,  N.  Y.,  192,  217.  White 
Snlphnr  Springe,  W.  Va.,  351, 382.  Whit- 
ing, Me.,  271.  Wliitllieville,  Ms.,  769. 
Whitney'B  Point,  N.  Y.,  337.  Whltuey- 
ville,  Ct.,  135.  Whitneyville,  Me.,  272. 
Whitdesea,  Eng^  539.  •Wiehita,  Kan., 
fSS.  Wichita  Falle.  Tex.,  783.  Wick, 
Scci.,  536.  555.  556,  645.  Wickliffe,  Vict., 
563.  Wicklow,  Otu.,  321.  Wilbraham, 
Ms.,  114.  *Wilkeel>ane,  Pa.,  30,  32,  220, 
340.1,  781.  Willetl,  N.  Y.,  337.  Willey 
House.  N.H.,  576.7.  William's  Iiridge,N.Y., 
96w  Wiiliamshurg,  Ms.,  119, 12 r.  Williatns- 
buis  (U  I.),  N.  Y.,  91,  153.  WiUiamsford, 
0«/.,  316.  WilUamsport,  Md.,  29, 5 1, 238.9, 

24*,  244.  303.  344,  347.  349.  384,38s,  495.497-8. 

•WilUamsport,  Pa.,  781.  •WillUmstown, 
Ky.,  31,  235-^.  WiUiamstown,  Ms.,  112, 
"<i  579*  610,  700,  769.  Williamstown, 
N.  J.,  52a.  WiUlametown,  N.  Y.,  192.3. 
WUIiamstown,  Vt.,  578.  Williamsville.  Ont., 
325.  Willimansett,  Ms.,  124-5,  $80.  ••Wil- 
Umantic,  CL,  129,  770.  Willow  Grove,  Pa., 
497.  Willow  Island,  Neb.,  478.  •Wil- 
mington, Del.,  244.  37a.  377.  388,  390.  497, 
Saa,  5S9,  62S,  781.  •Wilmington,  N.  C, 
78a.  Wilmington,  Vt.,  579.  Wilmot  Cen- 
ter, (7«/.,  317.  Wihnot  Comers,  N.  Y.,  210. 
WUaonville,  Ind.,  336.  Wilion,  Ct.,  138. 
Wincanton,  Eng.^  539.  Winchelsea,  Out.., 
332.  •Winchester,  Ky.,  4S5.  Winches- 
tar,  N.  H.,  579.  •Winchester,  Va.,  47, 
«44,  345-8,  350.  388, 49 1-^,  578.  7S2.  Wind- 
ham,  Ct.,  148.  Windham,  N.  Y.,  187. 
Windsor,  Ct.,  145,  251.  Windsor,  N.  S., 
259,286,289,393,  610,  790.  Windsor,  N. 
Y.,  204.  Windsor,  On/.,  296,  310-11,  314, 
533.  Windsor,  Vt.,  576,  578-9.  Windsor 
I«0CkB.  Ct.,  122,  125,  145,  x8o,  251,  377,  5S0, 
582.  Winfield  (L.  I),  N.  Y,  90.  Wing- 
ham,  Onf.,  332.  •Winnemncea,  Ncv.,476. 
Winnipeg,  Mmm.,  4S7,  635,  790.      •Winona, 


Minn.,  487,  788.  Winona,  Wis.,  787. 
Winslow,  //.  S.,  291.  Winsted,  Ct.,  143-4. 
•Winterset,  la.,  787.  Winthrop,  Me., 
574.  Wisbeach,  Eng.^  538,  557.  Witham, 
^igT',  792-  Wobnzn,  Ms.,  769.  Wodonga, 
F^k:/.,  565.6.  Wolfville,  iV.  ^.,285.  Woll- 
aston,  Eng.f  5401  Wolverhampton,  Etrg., 
539,  5(6,  645.  Womelsdorf,  Pa.,  343. 
Woodbridge,Cal.  ,491.  Woadbridge,Ct.,  149. 
Woodhridge,  N.  J.,  15S,  166.  •Woodbury, 
N.  J.,  390.  5".  Woodbury  (L.  I.),  N.  Y.. 
1 50- 1.  Woodford,t7M/.,3t6.  •NVoodland.Cal., 
491,  7S9.  Woodstock,  N.  H.,  577.  Wood- 
stock, Ox/.,  315.7,  324,  33».  634-5,  789. 
*Woodstock,Va.,  244, 346,  383. 388,498. 78a. 
•Woodstock, Vt.,  57f).  Woodstown,  N.  J., 
390,  521-2,  778.  WoodsTille,  N.  H.,  578. 
WoodviUs,  AT.  Z.,  5O9.  Woonsooket,  R. 
!•.  109,  581.  Worcester,  Eng.,  539,  645. 
•Worcester,  Ms.,  12,  27.  29,  31,  51,  103, 
109-14,117.  «a8-9,  208,258,  479,488,513.4, 
5»3.  576,  579,  594.  600,  607,  627,  680,  769. 
Worthiugton,  Ky.,  236.  Worthington,  Ms., 
121.  Wray,  Col.,  50Z.  Wremham,  Ms., 
107.  Wrexham,  Eng.,  539.  Wrightsvills, 
Pa.,  386.  Wyalusing,  Pa.,  219.  Wyanet, 
111.,  479.  Wyoming,  111.,  787.  Wyoming, 
N.  J.,  158,  163.  Wyoming,  Pa.,  220,  781. 
Wysocking,  Pa.,  219. 

•Xenia,  O.,  501,  7S5. 

Yantic,  Ct.,  530,  583,  770.  Yaphank 
(L.  I.),  N.  Y.,  29,  3»,  33,  150-3.  Yarmouth, 
E>^.,  C36.  Yarmouth,  Me.,  660,  766.  Yar- 
mouth, Ms.,  592.  Yarmouth,  jV.  S.,  282-4,' 
286,  288,  293,  599,  790.  Yarmouth,  Oh^., 
331.  Yarmouthville,  Me.,  766.  Yass, 
A^.  S,  IK,  564.5.  Yeovil,  ^wj-,,  536,645. 
Yokohama, /a/.,  572.  Yonkers,  N.  Y.,  26, 
39,  53.  58,  75-9,  81,  95.  98,  100,  1S7,  194,  197, 
376,  523,  583-4,  586,  610,  776.  York,  Eng., 
533.  544,  645-6,  792.  •York,  Pa.,  242,  377. 
3%,  495. 497.  6to,  781.  York  Mills,  On/.,  316. 
Yorkshire,  N.  Y.,  208,  223.  *YorktOwn, 
Va.,  23S.  •Yorkville.  111.,  479.  •Youngs- 
town.  O.,  627,  785.    Youngstown,  Pa.,  485. 

•Zanesville,  O. ,  245,  7S5.  Zaribrod,  Bui., 
4S1.    Zurich,  SwiiM.,  552. 


"  U.S.Official  Hotel  Directory  for  '86,  or  Hotel  Red  Book  "  (8vo,  708  pp.,  incl.  73  adv.  pp. ; 
doth,  $3  ;  weight  3  lbs.),  by  the  Hotel  Pub.  &  Adv.  Co.,  of  265  Broadway,  N.Y.,  "  gives  a  conv 
[dete  and  reliable  list  of  hotels  in  the  U.  S.  and  Canada,  large  and  small,  leading  and  otherwise, 
and  also  summer  and  winter  resorts.  It  likewise  gives  the  names  of  r.  r.'s  and  water  routes, 
reaching  or  passing  the  town  or  city  wherein  the  hotels  arc  located. "    See  hotel  lists,  pp.  609, 61  a. 


Iviii 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


THB  UfaTBD  STATES. 

This  alphabetical  list  of  the  States  and 
Territories  of  the  Union  is  given  chiefly  for 
the  sake  of  showing  their  abbreviations.  The 
geographical  order  in  whidi  the  States  are 
inserted  in  the  "  Directory  of  Wheelmen  " 
(765-90niay  be  found  on  p.  734>  also  on  p. 
XX ;  and,  in  the  latter  case,  the  number  of 
towns  and  of  subscribers  representing  each 
State  in  the  "  Directory  '*  are  likewise  shown. 
On  p.  617  maybe  seen  the  League  representa- 
tion of  each  State,  June  i,  '84;  and  on  p. 
618  the  increase  of  the  same,  Jan.  i  and  Sept. 
I,  '86.  P.^aS  shows  the  League  officers  of 
State  Divisions,  Oct.  30,  *86;  and  p.  631 
shows  th  •  apportionment  of  States  into  "  rac- 
ing districts  of  ihs  A.  C.  U."  Full  indexes  of 
the  13  States  in  which  I  have  done  the  most 
touring  ( Me.  to  Va.  and  Ky.)  are  pointed  out 
by  the  star  (*) ;  and  the  General  Index  may  be 
consulted  for  additional  references  to  many 
of  the  other  States.  Numerals  higher  than 
764  refer  to  subscribers  to  this  book  : 

Ala.,  Alabama,  2,  352,  670,  783.  Ariz., 
Arizona,  7S9.  Ark.,  Arkansas,  352,  783. 
CaL,  California,  2,  473-6,  489-941  5oo»  5'9i 
609,  661,  672,  789,  799.  CoL,  Colorado,  177, 
501,  7S8.  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.  Qi.,  Georgia,  177,  352,  500,  610,  782. 
Id.,  Idaho,  7S8.  HI.,  Illinois,  31,  224,  244, 
258,478-80,  485-9.  5«9.  524-5.  658,  672,677, 
786-7,  799.  IncL,  Indiana,  31,  235-7,  479. 
486-8,  5x9,  785-6.  la.,  Iowa,  478-80,  486-7, 
501,  672,  787.  KaxL,  Kansas,  99,  485-6,  500, 
788.  Ky.,  Kentucky,  224-37,  •590.  783-4- 
La.,  Louisiana,  2,  140,  500-1,  527,  595,  597, 
654.  670,  724,  783.  Me.,  Maine,  •573,  765-6. 
McL,  Maryland,  *5S9,  781-2.  Ms.,  Massa- 
chusetts,*579,766-9.  Micb.,  Michigan,  42, 99, 
177,210,296,  311,  323,  476,  490-2,609,  660, 
729,  7S5.  Mixm.,  Minnesota,  487,  519,  530, 
57O1  787.  Ml88.,  Mississippi,  352,  783.  Mo., 
Missouri,  99,  322-3,  473,  485-7,  500,  524-S. 
671-2,  787.  Mont.,  Montana,  454,  519,  788. 
Neb.,  Nebraska,  478-So,  484-6,  489,  501,  570, 
788.  Nev.,  Nevada,  476-7.  N.  H.,  New 
Hampshire,  •575,  766.  N.  J.,  New  Jersey, 
•5SS,  776-8.  N.  Mex.,  New  Mexico,  788. 
N.  Y.,  New  York,  ^582,  770^.  N.  C,  North 
Carolina,  54,  176,  551,  500,  782.     0.,  Ohio, 


28-3*,  39i  57,  99,  205,  234,  240,  24a,  245. 
47980,  485,  487,  500,  5o»,  5»9,  594,  625,  660. 
677-8,  784-5.  Or.,  Oregon,  492,  519,  788. 
Pa.,  Pennsylvania,  ^589,  778-81.  B,  L, 
Rhode  Island,  *58i,  769.  S.  C,  South  Caro- 
lina, 54,  352,  782.  TexUL,  Tennessee,  176, 
352,  500,  670,  672,  7S3.  Tex.,  Texas,  352, 
500,  783.  Ut.,  Utah,  477.  52o»  75*8.  Vt., 
Vermont,  •578,  766.  Va.,  Virginia,  •590, 
783.  Wash.,  Washington  Territory,  455, 
519,  788.  W.  Va.,  West  Virginia,  31,  4*. 
242,  245,  344,  352,  384,  486-7,  500,  $90,  78a. 
Wis.,  Wisconsin,  177,  258,  487,  524,  787. 
Wy.,  Wyoming,  473,  475,  477,  479-8o,  489, 
570.  788. 

FOREIGN  COUNTRIES. 

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,  2J2, 
481,  558,  636-7,  792.  Bavaria,  480-1.  Bel- 
gium, 522,  546,  549.  599.  651,  699,  700.  Ber- 
muda, 353-70.  592,  790.  Brittany,  54a.  Bul- 
garia, 48i.  Canada,  265,  282-334,  598,  603, 
633-7. 669-70, 677,  789-90.  Cape  Breton,  aSSw 
China,  312,  474-5,  477,  49«,  572.  Croatia, 
481.  Denmark,  636-7.  Egypt,  453,  571. 
England,  403-6,  426,  444-50.  469-72,  53»-S8, 
598-9, 636-51,  654, 681-95,  790-2.  France,  480, 
522,  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, 6S2-3, 
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  Brunswidc, 
265,  33 «.  5»5,  790.  New  S.Wales,  564-5, 65a, 
793.  N.Zealand,  566-9,653,  794.  Normandy, 
480,  543.  Norway,  549,  700.  Nova  Scotia, 
282-94,  331,  355,  364-6,  499,  592,  790.  On- 
tario, 296-334,  598,  633-6,  789.  Persia,  473, 
480-3,  570-1,  792.  Prince  Edward  Island, 
290-2.  Quebec,  327.30,  574-5,  592,  790. 
Queensland,  652,  793.  Roumelia,  474,  4S1. 
Russia,  570-1,  687,  724.  Saxony,  551-2. 
.Scotland,  545,  553-8,  645-6,  681-6,  695,  79a. 
Servin,  474,480-1.  Slavonia,474, 481.  South 
Africa,  696.      South   Australia,   560-1,  65a, 


INDEX  OF  PLACES, 


lix 


7i».  Spain,  549,  683,  700.  Styria,  48*. 
Sweden,  549, 700,  792.  Switzerland,  530,  532, 
54«.  $49. 55»f  599, 637,  650,  79a.  Tasmania, 
559.  5<»3-4, 652,  79*-  Turkey,  481-2,  474.  57if. 
7«j2.  Viaoria,  55S-66, 652,  706, 793-4.  Wales, 
V^^  IY>*  533,  536,  539.  544,  546,  550,  790-2. 

RIVERS  AND  VALLEYS. 

Agawam,  122-3, 179, 252.  Aminonoosuc,576- 
7.  Amoor,57o.  Androscoggin,  575-6.  Arques, 
480.  Avon,  289.  Bear,  477.  Beaver,  515. 
bigelow,  129.  Blackberry,  143.  Blacksione, 
io9b  Blanche,  329.  Brandy  wine,  372,  3*8. 
Bnmz,  74,  75.  Byram,  73.  Cassadaga,  5S7. 
CajEcnovia,  214.  Charles,  106,  514.  Chestnut 
Ridge,  485.  Chicopee,  110,  117,  129.  Cole- 
brook,  144.  Conemaugh,  496.  Connecticut, 
11,32,  61,  117-28,  145,  172,  178-84,  191,  >94i 
lyS,  251*4,  575-S2.  Cornwallis,  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, 
37a,  378,  390,  497,  5»2.  587-  East  (N.  Y.), 
64,  86,  97-8,  5S3.  Eden,  223.  Eik,  479. 
Elkhart,  479.  Elkhorn,  478.  Farmington, 
137,  144-6,  5S1.  Fenton,29.  French,  129. 
Ganges,  572.  Gatineau,  327.  Genesee,  30, 
214-17.  German,  173.  Green,  230,  477* 
Hackcnsack,  82,  165-6,  168-9,  589.  Har- 
lem, 25,  27,  64,  66,  68,  70,  72,  91,  95-8, 
247, 582-4.  Hanid,  571.  Hills,  490.  Hills- 
boro,  290.  Holyoke,  135.  Hoosick,  193. 
Hop,  128.  Housatonic,  1x2,  13S,  140,  143-4, 
147,  188,  700.  Hudson,  II,  44,  51,  64-91,  95, 
97,  M«-3,  «46,  148,  157,  «64-6,  17^-98,  210, 
3^,340,  43 «,  498,  500.  505.  5*3,  583-1,  586-7. 
Humboldt,  476-7.  Illinois,  489.  Indian,  327. 
100,481.  Jackson,  486.  James,  346-7.  Jock, 
327.  Juniata,  496.  Kanawha,  347.  Kansas, 
48&  Kennebec.  353,  573-4-  Kentucky,  227. 
Konrai,  568-9.  Lehigh,  299.  Ligonier,  485. 
Little,  223.  Loire,  542.  Luray,347,35»,38i. 
Magalloway,  575.  Mahoning,  342.  Mamaro- 
nedc,  74.  Maritza,  481-2.  Maumee,  479. 
Medidne  Bow,  478.  Merrimac,  102,  500. 
Metis,  329.  Middle  (Ct.),  129.  Middletown, 
243,  349.  Mississippi,  19S,  347-8, 473,  478-80, 
487,  480.  Missouri,  475,  478-9,  486,  489. 
Mohawk,  12,  13,  32,  85,  197,  199,202.  Mo- 
nocacy,  349.  Morava,  ^8.i,  Mt.  Hope,  129. 
Napa,  49a  Natchaujr,  129.  Nau?:atuck,  139- 
4».  5«2.  Nepperhan,  75-8, 98.  Niantic,  131. 
Mjeiva,  481.     Ohio,  39,  M5,  485.  515*  590- 


Oneida,  335.  Opequon,  347,  497.  Orange, 
271.  Oregon,  455.  Otselic,  302,337.  Ottawa, 
327-8.  Page,  347, 35<-  Passaic,  82, 159,  165, 
166,  5S8.  Patapsco,  377.  Patuxent,  349. 
Pawcatuck,  129.  Peabody,  577.  Pekang,  57a. 
Pemigewasset,  576.  Penobscot,  574.  Petane, 
568.  Platte,  478,  486,  489.  Pleasant,  146. 
Pompton,  165.  Potomac,  17,  29,  51,  55,  238, 
245,  300,  303,  344,  347,  376,  383-4,  488,  496-7- 
Quiaebaug,  129.  Quinnipiac,  134.  Ramapn, 
171,198,587.  Rappahannock,  379.  Kcr.ch, 
4S1.  Rhine,  481,522.  Rideau,  327.  Rigaud, 
32S.  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,  187, 
i>S  204,  210,  293,  301-3,  326,  329,  330,  333, 
500.  Salinas,  490.  Salmon,  145, 289.  Salt, 
237.  San  Benito,  489.  Santa  Clara,  49a 
Saugatuck,  128,  138.  Sawmill,  75-9.  Schroon, 
211.  Schuylkill,  299,  389-90, 522.  Seaconuet, 
108.  Seine,  480.  Semmering,  552.  Shenan- 
doah, 46,  154.  238,  241-2,  296,  300, 303, 346-7, 
3S8,  486,  49 1-500.  590.  Shepaug,  143.  Still, 
12S.  Strasburg,  347.  Susquehanna,  218, 302- 
3.  308,  338,  343.  372-3,  37?,  381,  386,  49",  589. 
Tarti]oux,  339.  Tliames,  129,  131,  681. 
Trough  Creek,  244.  Truckee,  476.  Tuo- 
lumne, 491.  Virginia,  346,  3S2.  Wabash, 
486.  Waipara,  568-9.  Walikill,  198.  WcUs, 
489,  576.  While,  578.  Willimaniic,  129. 
Winooski,  578.  Wissahickon,  389.  Wyo- 
ming,  220.    Yosemite,  491. 

MOUNTAIN    PEAKS. 

Ararat,  482.  Bald,  575.  Bald  Eagle,  496. 
Battle  (Nev.),  476.  Big  SeweU,  486.  Black, 
186.  Blanc,  354.  Blue  (Pa.),  498.  Buck, 
49S.  Carmel,  134.5,  486, 581.  Catoclin,  349. 
Cone,  485.  Dogwood,  4S6.  Eik,  478.  Ever- 
green, 148.  Gambler,  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.  Little 
SeweU,  486.  McGregor,  192.  Mansfield 
(Vt.),  578-9.  Marcy,  186.  Nescopeck,  498. 
North  (N.  S.),  284-5.  Orange,  158,  174. 
Otter  (Peaks  oQ,  347.  Pea  tinny,  170.  Pitts- 
field,  197.  Plymouth,  142.  Pulaski,  485- 
Razorback,  565-6.  Rummerfield,  219.  San 
Juan,  494.     St.  Goihard,    187.     St.  Helena 


Ix 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


(Cal.),49o.  Sargent  (Me.),  178.  Shenandoah, 
582.  Schooley's,  173.  Simplon,  187.  South, 
349.  Storm  King,  197.  Sugarloaf,  182.  Tom 
(Ms.),  118-20,127,183,252,579.  Vesuviua, 
552.  Washington,  237,  515,  525,  575-7, 670-x. 
Wilcox,  i4S> 

MOUNTAIN  RANCBS. 

Adirondack,  185-7, 2  lo-i  1 ,  587.  Alleghany, 
«43.  a45i  347.  350i  477f  485-6,  496,  5<»»  S«8- 
Apeuuiue,  551.  Balkan,  481.  Black  Hills, 
47S.  Blue  Creek,  477-  B^ue  Ridge,  238, 243, 
346-8,  374,  379-81, 495-7,  500.  Catskill,  187-8, 
198,216,  488,  497-  Elburz,  571.  Erz,  552. 
Fruskagora,  481.  Green,  1S4,  198,  574-8. 
Hanz,  114,  52a.  Himalaya,  477.  North 
(N.  S.),  2S4-5.  Laurentian,  327.  Little 
Savage,  244-  Massanulten,  347-8i  35o-«. 
381-1.  Mud  Creek,  486.  North  (N.  S.),  284-5- 
Orange,  158,  174.  Pilot,  576.  Promontory, 
477.  Pyrenees,  549.  Red  Dome,  477.  Rocky, 
455,  478,  4S1.  Sierra  Nevada,  243,  476,  492. 
South  ^N.  S.),  284.  Taghconic,  147.  Wa- 
chung,  174.  Wahsatch,  477.  White,  61,  192, 
«93,  a93,  503.  5*3,  576-8,  676. 

MILLS. 

Albanian,  552.  Alconbury,  540.  Alum 
Rock,  490.  Am^s*8,  i24>  Armory,  117.  Barn- 
door, 145.  Barryfield,  325.  Batesford,  559. 
Bear  Ridge,  139.  Belmont,  389.  Bengal, 
572.  Bergen,  82-4,  166,  168,  588.  Berkshire, 
121,  126,  581,  584,  700.  Blue,  109,  516,  577. 
Box,  567.  "  Breakneck  "  (N.  Y.),  71,  582. 
Cave,  236.  Chaplain,  228.  Chestnut,  102. 106, 
III,  114,  128,  523.  Chicopee,  124.  Columbia 
Heights,  88, 97.  Corey,  525.  Corydon,  235. 
Crescent,  124.  Cumberland,  107.  Druid, 
239.  Eagle  Rock,  175.  E*ist  Rock,  135. 
Edgewater,  165-6.  Ewingsville,  118,  126. 
Fisher's,  345-6,  498.  Foundry,  142.  Fox, 
170.  Gallows,  Si.  Gates's,  11S-9,  183,  579. 
Gibbs,  361.  Glacier,  491.  Grimes's,  158. 
Hampstead,  403.  Hanging,  250.  Hog-pcn 
Ridge,  139.  Hotliam,  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. 
Y.),  587.  Pine,  121.  Pleasant,  226.  Pros- 
pect, 362.  Ray*s,4S5.  Red,  237.  Remataka, 
568.  Richmond,  316.  Rideau,  327.  River- 
dale,  78,  80,  583.     Rocky,  102.    Round,  285, 


496-7.  Sandy,  58-9,  1S9,  192.  Seebach,  317. 
Shinnecock,  155.  Shrewsbury,  514.  Sidling, 
243.  Snake,  169.  Turkey,  123,  146.  Wash- 
ington Heights,  64,  72,  75,  38S,  583.  West, 
540.    Windsor,  122. 


Antigua,  592.  Atlantic,  355.  Barbadoet, 
592.  Bermuda,  353-70,  530.  Blackwell*s,  69^ 
70,  90,  469.  Brady,  478.  CampobcUo,  36o» 
265,  269.  Cape  Breton,  289,  290,  331,  366. 
Capri,  552.  Coney,  27, 47,  8;,  155,  523,  583-5. 
Dominica,  592.  Glen,  91.  Grand,  478,  489. 
Grand  Manan,  268-9.  Hebridss,  467.  Ire- 
land (Ber.),  355,  358.  League,  244.  Long 
(N.  Y.),  12,  28,  29,  5 1,  5S.  63-4. 83,  90,  97, 99, 
148,  150-9,  177-8,  28  J,  530.  Long  (N.  S.), 
286.  Magdclene,  331.  Mt.  Desert,  5,  574. 
Manhattan,  52,  6|,  69,  70,  72,  84,  116,  154, 
158,  16S,  187,  427.  Martinique,  5-)2.  Mon- 
treal, 575.  Newfoundland,  170,  293,  366. 
Parent,  328.  Perrot,  575.  Prince  Edward, 
289-92,  331,  592.  Rhode  (R.  L),  loS.  St. 
George's,  355.  St.  Helena,  355.  St  Kitts, 
592.  St.  Lucia,  572.  Sandwich,  492.  Sochia, 
552.  Somers,  364.  Slalcn,  28, 30.  57, 64,  84, 
88,  97,  99,  150,  <S5-9.  «77-8,  377,  583-  Thoo- 
sand,  333.  Trinidad,  i-yi.  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,  20^,  223,488, 
587.  Clear,  490.  Conesus,  216.  Croton,  194. 
Crystal,  170.  Dcschene,  327.  Eagle,  278, 
281.  Echo,  170.  Erie,  39,  171,  203-6,  225, 
310,  331-2,  58S,  596.  Garland,  283.  George, 
II,  29,  32,  51,  57,  171,  179.98,  an.  578. 
Governor's,  288.  Great  Salt,  477.  Green- 
wood, 170, 584.  Hemlock,  216.  Huron,  204, 
30',  313,  315,  33>-  Lauderdale,  193.  Ma- 
hopac,  582.  Mashapaug,  129.  Memphre- 
magog,  198.  Michigan,  479.  Mirror,  491. 
Mohonk,  198.  Moosehead,  574-5.  Napa, 
491-  Ontario,  204,  214,  222,  301,  310,  314, 
3»o,  333,  593.  Otsego,  197.  Piseco,  211. 
Pleasant,  an,  378.  Quinsigamond,  no. 
Rocky  Hill,  120.  Rogers,  131.  Round,  37S. 
St.  Clair,  301,  311.  Saltonstall,  133.  Sara- 
toga, 192.  Schroon,2it.  Seneca,  211.  Sil- 
ver, 155,  216, 222.     Simco?,  316.     Southwick, 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


Ixi 


xx^  Sopsrior,  331.  Thousand  Islandft,  333. 
TueacbeK,  327.  Twin,  147.  Two  Mounuins, 
32&  Whimey,  135,  148,  249.  Winnipisco- 
Cee.  293.  576. 

CRBBKS  AND  BROOKS. 

Amietam,  347,  3S4.  Block,  121-3.  Bloody 
Ron,  185.  Buffalo,  22a.  Bull  Run,  375. 
Caitarausus,  204.  Cub  Run,  374-$.  Elk, 
236.  Furnace,  129.  Uarrod's,  236.  Kiwaka, 
S)6&.  Mdl,  121.  Newton,  91.  North,  211. 
Oveipeck,  165.  Plum,  237.  Pole,  478. 
Queen's,  327.  Roaring,  139.  Rondout,  19S. 
Spuyten  Duyvil,  64, 71-2,  78-So,  383.  Smith's, 
49a  Sunswick,  90W  West  Canada,  21a  )fel- 
lo«.  477- 

WATERFALLS. 

Bridal  Veil,  491.  Chaudiire,  327.  Clifton 
(N.  J.X  170.  Fninkliu,  577.  Genesee,  214, 
si6w  Guildhall,  577.  Great  Falls  of  Poto- 
mac, 376,  497.  Haines,  216.  Hemlock,  509. 
Horseshoe  (Niagara),  202.  Raaterskill,  216. 
Kezah  (Me.)»  577.  Montmorenci,  330. 
Ifomey,  S74>  Nevada,  491.  Niagara,  28, 203, 
214-16,  293,  3S2,  488,  586.  Paterson,  167. 
Pontook,  576.  Portage,  214.  Sciota,  341. 
Seneca,  soS,  312.  Trenton,  210,  212,  334-6. 
Vernal,  491.  Wannon,  560,  563.  Wappio- 
fer's,  194-5-    Vo«3mite,  491. 

BAYS  AKD  OTHBR   DIVISIONS  <S?  WATBR. 

Adriatic  Sea,  552.  Atlantic  Ocean,  48, 
64,  176,  405.  4*^7,  473.  5>3-  Ahxandria  Bay, 
209U  Basin  of  Miuas,  2S6-9.  Bedford  Basin, 
287-3.  Bic  Bay,  329.  Bosporus,  482.  Bos- 
ton Harbor,  113,  282.  Canso,  Strait  of, 
389.  Caspian  Sea,  571.  Chedabucto,  2S9. 
Chesapeake,  352,  377.  Cold  Spring  Harbor 
(L.  I.),  150.  Fresh  Kills  (S.  I.),  157.  Fuudy, 
269,  2S4.  Georgian,  315-16.  Gowanus,  88. 
Oraasy,  35S,  362,  365.  Great  South  (L.  I.),' 
155.  Golf  Stream,  364-5.  Hamilton  Harbor, 
3S&  Harrington  Sound,  359'6a  Hell  Gate, 
90,  9S.  Katskill  (Lake  C^eorge),  186.  Kill 
van  Kull,  84,  155.  Long  Island  Sound,  61, 
641  74.  «5.  90.  96, 128^,  14a,  249.  Mahone. 
a88,  293.  Mediterranean  Sea,  593.  Morris 
Cove,  133.  Mt.  Hope,  loS.  The  Narrows, 
64*  158.  Newark,  84,  155,  583.  New  York, 
64*  ^t  155'  Northwest  Arm,  287.  North 
West  Bay  (Lake  Geoiige),  186.  Owen  Sound, 
ai$-i6.  Pacific  Ocean,  48,  473. 49»f  57o,  572- 
Pakocrystjc  Sea,  23.    PaMamaquoddy,  268. 


Pelham,  73,  96,  249.  Providence,  108.  Sag 
Harbor  (L.  1.),  155.  Sl  Lavkrence  Gulf,  59s. 
Sanbornton,  577.  St.  Margaret's,  2S8.  St. 
Mary's,  284.  Somes  Sound,  277, 281.  Staten 
Island  Sound,  155.  Tappan  Sea,  8a  Tra^ 
cadie  Harbor,  291. 

PARKS   AND  SQUARBS. 

Battery,  N.  Y.,  98.9,  433,  583-  Bidwell, 
Buffalo,  203.  Blue  Grass,  Ky.,  224.  Boston 
Common,  105-6.  Bowling  Green,  N.  Y.,433. 
Bronx,  N.  Y.,  95-6.  Brooklyn  City,  8S-9. 
Central,  N.  Y.,  64-8,  70,  85,  02-5,  98,  100, 
187,  X97-8,  376,  403,  43*1  45».  453.  465, 
686.  Chestnut  Hill  Reservoir,  Boston,  102, 
106,  III,  114,  128,  523.  Chicago,  224.  City 
Hall,  N.  Y.,  86,  loa  Clareraont,  N.  Y., 
96.  Copley  Sq.  (called  "  Trinity  "),  Boston, 
27,  106.  Crotona,  N.  Y.,  96.  Druid  Hill, 
Bait.,  238,  781.  East  Rock,  New  Haven, 
135-6.  Edge  water,  N.  Y.,  96.  Fairmount, 
Phila.,  389,  679.  Fleetwood,  N.  Y.,  73. 
Front,  Buffalo,  5S8.  Gilmour*s,  327.  Hamp- 
den, Springfield,  117,  579-80.  Harvard  Sq., 
101,  103.  International,  Niagara,  199,  586. 
Jerome,  N.  Y.,  71-3,  75,  138,  58a.  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,  ■*<>»  '^8,  662.  Pleasure 
Ridge,  237.  Pt.  Pleasant,  287.  Prospect, 
Brooklyn,  27,  87-9,  98,  94,  97.  583,  686-6, 
Public  Garden  of  Boston,  105-6,  114.  Public 
Gardens  of  Halifax,  2S7.  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,  5«-».  54,  W-6,  8a,  9»,  98,  loi,  168, 
191,  207,  368,  388,  391,  438-31,  482-4,  45», 
453,  455.  46t-6,  470,  583-6.  611,  774-  Wash- 
ington Square,  Phila.,  494,  497.  Westfield 
Green,  N.  Y.,  206.  West  Springfield  Com- 
mon,  120.  Woodward's  Garden,  San  Fran- 
cisco, 49a. 

RAILROADS  (See  pp.  591-8). 
Baltimore  &  Ohio,  238,  242,  245,  3So^ 
Boston  &  Albany,  a6,  128,  479.  Buffalo, 
N.  Y.  &  P.,  222.  Chesapeake  &  Ohio,  350-1. 
Chicago,  Burlington  &  Quincy,  486.  Con- 
cord, 50a  Conn.  River,  127,  19S.  Canadian 
Pacific,  328.   D.,  L.  &  W.,  82,  588.   Erie,  8a, 


Ixii 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


85,  165,  198,  2t6-i8,  222-3,  3«»4-5-  Fall  River 
&  Newport,  198.  Grand  Trunk,  328.  Hud- 
son River,  190,  192,  195,  198.  Intercolonial, 
2S5,  329.  Lehigh  Valley,  219,  221.  Long 
Island,  154.  Missouri  Pacific.  486.  N.  J. 
Central,  82,  85.  New  London  Northern, 
129.  N.  Y.  Central,  192,  198,  201,  209.  N. 
Y.,  P.  &  O.,  222.  New  Zealand,  569-70. 
Pacific,  475.  P.  D.  &  E.  (111.).  486.  Penn- 
sylvania, 82,  389,  588.  Prince  Edward  Is- 
land, 291-2.  Richmond  &  Alleghany,  350. 
Union  Pacific,  473-  Valley  Branch  of  B.  & 
O.,  350.  Vermont  Central,  184.  Wabash, 
486.     West  Shore,  83-4,  168,  589. 

COLLBCBS. 

Acadia,  28s-  Amherst,  113, 142.  Bowdoin, 
565.  Butler  Univ.,  786.  Cambridge  Univ., 
429.  434.  5*4,  544»  557,  79i-  "Chrysalis," 
428-9.  Columbia,  (130,216,436-7.  Cornell 
Univ.,  772.  Dartmouth,  508,  766.  Dickinson, 
344,  512.  Drew  Theol.  Sera.,  344.  Eton, 
533.  (Georgetown,  233.  Glasgow  Univ.,  545. 
Haileybury,  544.  Harvard,  25,  loi,  103, 
"3,  13 '.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,  65S. 
Lafayette,  173,  669.  Lehigh  Univ.,  780. 
Maine  Agricultural,  257,  277.  Middlebury, 
196.  New  York,  436.  New  York  Univ., 
428-44.  454-72.  Oxford  Univ.,  469,  471,  533. 
Pennsylvania   Univ.,    388,    494.     Princeton, 

434,  777-  Rutgers,  159.  5:warthmore,  508. 
Toronto  Univ.,  318.  Trinity  (Cam.),  544. 
Trinity  (Hartford),  136.     Virginia  Univ.,  350, 

435.  West  Point,  194.  Williams,  185.  Yale, 
"3,  127.  >3»-3,  MO,  256,  304,  890-40&,  424, 
434-5,  439.  447,  464-6,  494.  657,  660,  711, 
722-3,  728,  732,  770- 

PUBLIC   BUILDINGS. 

AgriaiUural  Hall,  London,  547-8.  Alex- 
andra Palace,  London,  535.  Alnwick  CZastie, 
390,  404.  Alumni  Hail,  Yale,  39S-9.  Ar- 
mory, Springfield,  114,  124-5,  580.  Arsenal, 
N.  Y.,  95.  Benedick,  N.  Y.,  65,  440.  Bicy- 
cle Club  Houses  :  Baltimore,  590,  781 ;  Bos- 
ton, 105-6,  767;  Brooklyn,  97,  586;  New 
York,  96,  586 ;  Philadelphia,  589 ;  St.  Louis, 
652  ;  Washington,  590.  Boston  Cydorama, 
385.    Capitol,  Albany,  193.     Capitol,  Wash- 


ington, 371-2,  501.  Centennial  Buildings, 
Phiia.,  3S9.  Cheshire  Academy,  Ct.,  134, 
250.  "Chrysalis  College,"  42S-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, 
105  ;  New  York,  369.  Elm  City  Rink,  401. 
Equitable  Building,  N.  Y.,  99.  Faneuil 
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,  582.  Kentucky  State  House,  233.  Lick 
Observatory,  Cal.,  490.  Litchfield  Mansion, 
N.  Y.,  5S5.  Ludlow  St.  Jail,  N.  Y.,  8&. 
Lyndehurst,  N.  Y.,  79-So.  Manor  House, 
Yonkers,  78.  Massachusetts  State  House, 
104,  113,  116.  Mechanics'  Pavilion,  Port- 
land, Or.,  492.  Memorial  Hall,  Dedham, 
Ms.,  107.  Metropolitan  Methodist  Church, 
Toronto,  318.  Monastery,  N.  J.,  83,  589. 
Morgan  School,  Clinton,  Ct.,  134.  Ml.  Hd- 
yoke  Female  Seminary,  120.  Museum  of 
Fine  Arts,  Boston,  106.  Music  Hall,  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,  2aS.  Post 
Offices  :  Boston,  105  ;  Cleveland,  500;  New 
York,  48;  Paris,  458.  Poltstown  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,  T06.  Trinity 
Church,  N.  Y.,  87,  99, 437.  Tuileries,  Paris, 
390.  University  Building,  N.  Y.,  65,  423-44, 
454-72.  Union  Depot,  Worcester,  Ms,,  514. 
U.  S.  Armory,  Springfield,  Ms.,  114,  124-5. 
Villa  of  D.  b.  Mills,  Millbrae,  Cal.,  492. 
Williamsburg  Savings  Bank,  Brooklyn,  92. 


INDEX  OF  PLACES. 


Ixiii 


GBOGKAPHICAL  MISCELLANY. 

Adirondack  Wilderness,  186-7,  587.  Adrian- 
ople  Plains,  Tur.,  48a.  Black  Forest,  Ger., 
481.  Blue  Grass  Region  of  Ky.,  224-7, 
132-3.  Brooklyn  Bridge,  36-9.  Brooklyn 
Navy  Yard,  88,  346.  Cape  May,  593.  Cat 
Hole  Pass,  Ct.,  137.  Crawford's  Cave, 
Ky.,  228.  Croton  Reservoir,  N.  Y.,  70, 
95.  Desert  of  Despair,  571,  Devil's  Hole, 
Bermuda,  360.  Flume,  N.  H.,  61,  576. 
Forest  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,  loS.  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.  Lewlstown  Nar- 
rows, Pa.,  496.  Lumy  Cavern,  Va.,  34S, 
381-3.  Mammoth  Cave,  231-2,  381-2.  Man- 
awatu  Gorge,  N.  Z.,  568.  Meeling  Pass, 
573.  Middlesex  Notch,  Vt.,  578.  Milldam, 
Boston,  106.  Norambega,  279.  Northern 
Maine  Wilderness,  575.  Obelisk  of  Alex- 
andria, 465.  Ottawa  Long  Soult  Rapids, 
338.  Ovens,  Mt.  Desert,  279.  Ox  Bow  of 
the  Conn.,  120.  Pack  Saddle  of  the  Cone- 
maugh,  496.  Paulus  Hook,  N.  J.,  168. 
Red  Desert  of  Wyoming,  477.  Royal  Dock- 
yard at  Bermuda,  3 58.  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. 

CYCUNG  CLVBS. 

•Subscribers  to  book  are  marked  thus  (•). 

Adrian,  785.  i&>lu5,  769,  777.  Akron, 
784.  Albany,  679,  770.  Albert,  793.  Alle- 
ghany Co.,  772.  Allston,  766.  Alpha,  778. 
Amateur,  792.  Amherst  Coll.,  113.  Anfield, 
553,  557-8.  Ann  Arbor,  785.  Ararat,  561. 
•Arid,  775,  789.  Atalanta,  777.  Auburn,  785. 
Auckland,  794.  Augusta,  783.  Avondale,  784. 
Ballatat,  561,  793.  •Baltimore,  781.  Bay 
City,  7S9.  Batavia,  770.  Bath,  544.  Beaver 
Valley,  515,  778.  •Bedford,  97,  586,  770, 
775.  Belleville,  325,  793.  Belsize,  531-2,  541- 
a,  791.  Berkshire  Co.,  768.  Binghamton, 
318, 308,  770L     Birmingham,  783.     BirchfieM, 


790.  Bloomington,  786.  Bordelais,  56a. 
Boocobel,  768.  Boston,  25,  105-6,  109,  504-5, 
514,  516-18,  523,  525-6,  615,  656,  679,  766, 
793.  Brighton,  784.  Brisbane,  793.  Brix- 
ton, 554.  Bromley,  554.  Brooklyn,  97,  586, 
77O1  775-  Brunswick,  777.  Buckeye,  784. 
Buffalo,  771.  Calais,  765.  California,  789. 
Cambridge  Univ.,  544,  791.  Camden,  776. 
Canandaigna,    773.     Canonbury,    543,    554, 

791.  Canton,  778,  784.  Cape  Town,  bc^^. 
Capitol,  348,  376,  515,  590,  652,  782.  Carl- 
ton, 561-2,  Carmi,  786.  Cazenovia,  336, 
772.  Centaur,  543,  789.  Chambersburg,  778. 
Champion  City,  345,  7H5.  Chailestown,  767. 
Charlotte,  782.  Chatham,  772.  Chelsea,  679, 
767.  Chemeketa,  788.  Cheshire,  769.  Chey- 
enne, 7S8.  Chicago,  225,  396,  320,  519,  529, 
573.  679,  786.  Chrisichurch,  567,  653,  794. 
Cincinnati,  224,  784.  •Citizens,  96-7,  523, 
586, 6i2,  773.  City,  563,  767.  Clarence,  544. 
Clarion,  778.  Clearfield,  778.  Cleveland, 
326, 660,  784.  Cohoes,  772.  Coldwater,  7)^5. 
College  Hill,  784.  Colorado,  788.  Colum- 
bia, 776,  778,  783.  Columbus,  782.  Connect- 
icut, 769.  Cornell  Univ.,  772.  Cornetia,  770. 
Corning,   772.     •Cortlandt,   775.     Coventry, 

790.  Crescent,  783.  Dakota,  788.  D;.n- 
bury,  769.  Dayton,  784.  Delaware,  775. 
Derby,  769.  Detroit,  311,  322,  505,  785. 
Dorchester,  527.  Druid,  781.  Dunkuk,  772. 
Eaglehawk-United,  793.  East  Saginaw, 
785.  Elgin,  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, 
772,  774.  Harrisburg,  779.  Haverford  Coll., 
779.     Haverhill,    767.     Haverstock,    538-41, 

791.  Heights,  97,  770.  Helena,  788.  Hen- 
derson, 783.  Hermes,  529.  Hobart,  563. 
Holyoke,  767.  •Hudson,  772.  Hudson  Co., 
776.  Huntingdon,  779.  Indiana,  785.  Indian- 
apolis, 786.  Indiannia,  787.  •Ixion,  96-7, 
164,  197,  524,  586,  667,  774.  Jackson,  785. 
Jamestown, 773.  Junior,  377,  781,  Kankakee, 
787.    Kansas  City,  787.     Kennebec  Co.,  765. 


Ixiv 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Rent,  790.  Kenton,  7S3.  Kentucky,  783. 
Keystone,  780.  •King's  Co.,  97,  586,  770. 
Kingston,  789.  Kiswaukee,  786.  La  Crosse, 
787.  La  Fayette,  781,  786.  Lafayette  Coll., 
i73i  ^-  Lancaster,  779.  Laramie,  788. 
Lawrence,  514,  660, 768,  78S.  Lehigh  Univ., 
780.  Leroy,  772.  Lexington,  783.  Liverpool 
Cycle  Buglers',  791.  Lombard,  694.  Lon- 
don, 533, 544,  56S,  79t.  London  Scottish,  553. 
Long  Island,  97,  586,  771.  Louisville,  527, 
783.  Lowell,  517,768.  Macon,  782.  Madison 
Co.,  787.  Maiden,  768.  Manchester,  500, 
766.  Manhattan,  187.  Mansfield,  779.  Mar- 
blehead,  76S.  Marniion,  563,  794.  Mary- 
land, 590,  652,  7S1.  ^Massachusetts,  105-6, 
113,  258,  279,  504,  508.  5«»  S«7. 679,  767,  774. 
Massillon,  785.  Mauch  Chunk,  779.  Me- 
dina Co.,  785.  Melbounie,  558-9,  561-3,  706, 
793.  Memphis,  783.  Mercury,  772,  785,  7S7. 
Merid^n,  128,  138,  769.  Merrimac,  768. 
Metropolitan  of  Iowa,  787.  Middlesex,  554, 
567.  Middletown,  769,  77a.  •Milford,  768. 
Millbury,  76S.  Millville,  777.  Milwaukee, 
519,767.  Missouri,  7S7.  Monmouth  Co.,  778. 
Montclair,  777.  Montgomery,  783.  Montreal, 
330, 504, 790.  •Montrose,  779.  Morris,  776.7. 
Mountain,  779.  Nacionel,  790.  Nashua, 
508,766.  Nashville,  783.  New  Britain,  770. 
Newburg,  772.  New  Haven,  660,  770.  New 
Jersey,  777-8.  New  London  Co.,  770.  New 
Orleans,  500,  783.  •New  York,  24,  96,  504, 
586-7,  772-3.  Niagara  Falls,  775.  Nobles- 
ville,  786.  Nonantum,  768.  Normamby, 
793.  Norristown,  779.  North  Adelaide,  793. 
Northampton,  127,  76S.  North  Ix)ndon,  534, 
S43f  79^'  North  Otago,  794.  North  Road, 
557.  Oakland,  492,  789.  Old  Dominion,  783. 
Olean,  775.  Omaha,  788.  Orange,  509,  530, 
725,  768,  776-7.  Oregon,  788.  Oskaloosa, 
787.  Oswego,  775.  Ottawa,  327,  330,  789. 
Ottumwa,  787.  •Ovid,  660,  785.  Owl,  529, 
776.  Oxford  Univ.,  568.  Pahquioque,  769. 
Park  City,  783.  Passaic  Co.,  778.  Paw- 
tucket,  769.  Penn  City,  500.  •Pennsylva- 
nia, 589, 65a,  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,  359, 
275,  766.  Portsmouth,  785.  Pottstown,  484, 
780.  Preston,  566.  Princeton,  787.  Prince- 
ton Coll.,  777.  •Providence,  769.  Ramblers, 
787,  789,  793.    Randolph,  315,  775.    Read- 


ing, 7S0.  Redfem,  565.  Rhode  Island,  121. 
Rochester,  775.  Rockford,  787.  Rocking- 
ham, 766.  Rockville,  770.  Rome,  201,  700, 
776.     Roselle,  77S.    Rovers,  784.     Rush  Co., 

786.  •Rutland,  766.  St.  Catherine,  326. 
St.  Cloud,  787.  St.  John,  790,  St.  Louis^ 
487,  785.    St.  Louis  Star,  787.    St.  Mary's, 

789.  St.  Thomas,  314,  789.  •Salem,  768. 
Salt  Lake,  7S8.  Sandhurst,  562.  San  Fran- 
Cisco,  4^9, 789.  Saratoga,  776.  Schenectady, 
776,  •Scranlon,  340,  780.  Seaside,  78a. 
Sefton  and  Dingle,  791.  Simcoe,  789.  Sit- 
tingboume,   7^.     Somerville,   768.     Sparta, 

787.  •Springfield,  114-15,  >49»  182,254,508, 
524,  547.  661,  768,  793,  799.  Stamford,  770. 
Star,  315,  351,  766,  768,  782.  Stoneham, 
769.  Surrey,  543,  547,  564.  Susquehanna, 
780.  Swallows,  791.  Sydney,  564,  793.  SjTa- 
cuse,  776.  Tasmanian,  563.  Taunton,  769. 
Temple,  547.  Terre  Haute,  786.  Thoni- 
dike,  766.  Titusville,  781.  Toledo,  785.  To- 
ronto, 31 9-3o,  789.  Tremont,  517,  767.  Tren- 
ton, 778.    Troy,  776.    Trumbull,  785.    Truro, 

790.  Turin,  700.  Tuskegee,  783.  Unadilla, 
772.  Valley,  785.  Valley  City,  785.  Ver- 
mont, 766.  Vernon,  772,  785.  Victor,  779, 
783.  Victoria,  560.  Waitcmata,  794.  Wake- 
field, 769.  Walden,  776.  Wanderers,  789. 
Wappingers,  776.  Warmambool,  559,  794. 
Washington,  374,  782.  Waterbury,  770. 
•Weedsport,  776.  Wellington,  794.  Wells- 
boro,  781.  Wes'.boro,  769.  Westminster,  78a. 
West  Point,  783.  Weymouth,  769.  Wheel- 
ing, 78a.  Whirling,  781.  Wilkesbarre,  781. 
Williainsport,  781.  Wilmington,  782.  Winni- 
peg* 790-  Winona,  787.  •Wood  River,  788. 
Woodstock,  789.  Woodstown,  778.  Wor- 
cester, 769.  Woronoco,  769.  Xenia,  785. 
Yale,  660,  770.  Young^own,  785.  Zane»- 
ville,  785. 

CBMETERIBS. 

Greenfield,  L.  I.,  152.  Greenwood,  L.  L, 
90,  469.  Machpelah,  N.  J.,  84,  589.  Mt. 
Aubuni,  Ms.,  103.  National,  Pa.,  384'$' 
Pine  Hill,  Ms.,  lao.  Sleepy  Hollow,  N.  V., 
76.  Woodlands,  Pa.,  390.  Woodlawn,  N.Y., 
7«i  «38»  583. 

CANALS. 

Chesapeake  &  Ohio,  12,  39,  32,  39,  51  >  339- 
345.  Conn.  River,  180.  Delaware  &  Hud- 
son, 44.  1S9,  340.  Erie,  8,  28,  32,  57,  197- 
308,  316-17,  488.  Juniata,  496.  Morris,  173, 
307.    Raritan,  167, 173.  Susquehanna,  377-8. 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


IXT 


TteB  fonowing  list  is  dengned  to  give  the  family  name  of  every  pencm  mentioned  id  this 
book,  and  also  of  many  who  are  alhided  to  without  being  named.  References  to  such  allusions 
are  cadoasd  in  parenthesis.  Quotation-marks  cover  pseudonyms  and  names  of  fictitious  per> 
•oWk    The  star  (*)  points  to  bi;thdays.    The  list  contains  1476  names  and  3126  references. 


Ajoob,  177-S,  619-31, 614*  627,  Ixxxiv. (604, 
107.  7^)-  Abbott,  556,  $95.  Abercrombie, 
iS$.  Ackerman,  404-  Adam,  444,  568,  645, 
684,  7201  Adams,  100,  113,  149,  177,  217, 
»«.  33 »»  53S,  553-4,  557-«»  M/-  "Adoles- 
cens,"  500.  **iEacas,"  305.  "Agonisles," 
690.  Ahem,  5J2.  Albert-£dward,  469*7  <• 
Albone,  557-S.  Albutt,  645.  Aldrich,  431. 
Afexander,  jji.  "Alsamon,"  641.  Allan, 
S92.  Albn,  15  f,  186,  339,  34S,  554.  674.  6H8. 
AUey,  627,  657.  Aim,  •6aS.  "Amaryllis," 
443.  Amss,  134.  Amhent,  ta;,  185.  Amis, 
610.  Amm^n,  35a.  "Ananias,"  349,  495. 
Anderson  (232X  And:rton,  537.  Andr^,  76, 
80.  i6>  Andrews,  645.  App,  500.  Apple- 
ton,  65,  81,  87,  96,  100,  155,  198,  431,  434. 
411-13,  TCKX  Applsyard,  4,  554,  557.  Archi- 
bald, 470*  Aristides,  718.  Arming,  564. 
Armstrong,  466.  Arnold,  15,  169,  30},  728. 
"'Arry,"  641.  Ash,  564.  Ashby,  347.  348. 
Ashmead,  646.  "Asmodsus,"  14.  Atkins, 
«»».6SS.  677.  Atkinson,  645, 693.  Atwater, 
teS  (180,  423,  722-3).  Aub:,  458.  Aurelius, 
466.  Austin,  •ftaS.  Aiiten,668.  Auty,  644- 
Avery.  674.  Aycrs,  ♦518-9,  SJ«,  594.  •627-8. 
675.  7i6(^>jX 

"Baby,"  553,  558.  Bacon,  173.  Baedeker, 
893,  640.  Bagg,  183,  201,  209-10,  610  (f3o-T, 
733-3X  Bagot,  560, 696.  Bailsy,493-  Baird, 
f6o,  668  (630).  Baker,  •4S7.  Baldwin,  3S4, 
578,  5S2,  609,  658  (395).  Bale,  696.  Ball, 
554.  Ballantyne,  635.  Bancroft  (23,  406, 
736).  Baney,  610.  Bannard  (2).  Baquie, 
6*8.  Bar,  607.  "Bard,"  506.  Bardeen, 
(213).  Bardw^ll,  610.  Barkman,  ^530,  584-5, 
597»  6»5t  655,  677.  Barlow,  561.  Barnard, 
631.  Barnes,  323, 600, 635,  *668-9.  Bamett, 
»J5f  245.  6o>  Barrett,  609.  Barrick,  376. 
Barrow,  553, 689.  Barthol,  551-2.  Bartlett, 
*386,  62S.  Barton,  201,  210-11.  Bartram, 
S6«>645(369X  Ba8hall,6|5.  '*  Basil,"  215-16, 
(437-8).  Bas3one,  700.  Bason,  562.  Bassett, 
•$35,  ^637,  663-5,  675  (603,  639-30,  704,  711). 
Baatian,  500.  Bates,  314,  3>9-3o,  *so5,  610, 
6sff ,  636, 639, 633 ,  657  (311, 673).  Batchelder, 
S7S»  ^76>7.  Bat^hman,  244.  Baxter,  soi, 
6eo,6s7-    Bayley,63S.    Bayliss,  546.    Beach, 


77, 188.    Beal,  •doS.    Beasley,  599.    Beaaley, 

553.  Beck,  554.  Beckers,  575.  Beckwith, 
•627,666-7,675(633).  Beddo,(233).  Becbe, 
609.  Beecher,  403.  Beers,  99,  108,  136,  177, 
187,  4G6,  577,  701  (737,  733).  Beekman,  585. 
Bcgg,  635.  Bell,  •529,  553.  Belcher,  658. 
Benassii,  698.  Benjamin,  355, 483, 66t.  Ben- 
nett, 492,  561,  627.  Benson,  530.  Bcntley, 
499  (>3i)<  Benton,  510.  Bemhard,  154. 
Bemiyer,  698.  Bettison,  530.  "  Bibliopil," 
699.  Bidwell,  96,  586,  574,  627-S.  Bien, 
174-5.  Biederman,  661.  Bigelow,  523,*657. 
Biglin  (36S-9).  Bingham,  645,  651,  70a 
Binns,  4S3,  '543.  Bird,  393.  Bishop,  431, 
559.  563-4.  652,  728.  Bittenger,  643.  Black, 
561.  Blackball,  635.  Dlackham,6s8.  Black- 
well,  542,  554.  Blacqne,  83.  Blaine.  (726). 
Blake,  •628.  Blanchard,  646.  Blatchford, 
113.  Blcy,  •493.  Blyth,  658.  Blythe,  635. 
Bogardus,  493.  Bolton,  548,  6S3.  Bonami, 
69S.  "Bones,"  431.  Bonnell,  62S.  Booth, 
493.  632.  Borrow,  4)6.  Bosworth,  658. 
Bouchette,  331.     Bouchisr,   562.     Boiiidon, 

554.  Boustcd,  634.  Bowen,  221-2,  563,  588, 
677.  Bowles,  115,  '546.  Bowman,  158,  492. 
Braddock,  243.  Bradford  (463,  607X  Brad- 
ley, 254,  579-  Bradney,  645.  Brady,  174. 
Bragg,  228.  Brevoort,  611.  Brewster,  370, 
591,627,643,657.  Bridgman,  •ssi,  Brierlcy, 
330,  634-5,  ^669.  Briggs,  119,  559,  563. 
Brigham,  114.  Bristed,  •727.  Bristol,  658. 
Broadbent,  562.  Brock,  382,  545.  Brockett, 
177.  Brooke,  609,  645.  Brooks,  679  (412). 
Bromley,  176.  Brown,  141,  170,  177,  185, 
384,  471.  •537,  543.  553,  557,  600,  627,  6S0. 
"  Brown,"  92,  499,  502, 605,  718.  Browning, 
655.  Bruce,  470,  *62S.  Brunelleschi,  429. 
Bryan,  700.  Bryant,  3 16,  667,  700.  Bryson, 
645-  "Bucephale,"  238,  242.  Buchanan, 
686.  Buckingham,  555  (363).  Budds,  565. 
Buell,  228,658(121,  181,  191,  197).  Buik,645. 
"BuflF,"  424.  Bull,  221,  222,  "402,"  587, 
5S8,  591,  627,  677  (215,  217).  Bullinger,  100. 
Bunce,  700.  Btinner  (36,  44, 246,  727).  Bur- 
bank,  16,  III,  506,  673,  677.  Burchard (460). 
Burgoyne,  127,  186.  Burke,  737.  Bum,  645, 
652,  665, 695.    Burnett,  645.    Bumham,  530, 


Ixvi 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


675,  693.  Burr,  157.  Burrill,  617.  Bars- 
ton,  55S-9,  560.  Burt,  63a.  Bury,  647,  6S7. 
Busby,  598.  Butcher,  1 14,  127,  135,  147*  32o> 
3"»374,  500.  506-S,  511,  517,  5»9-ai,  524,526, 
528-30  (714).  Butler,  208,  517,  554,  627. 
Buzzard,  560.  "  Byng,"  428.  Byrou  (1, 224). 
Cable,  331.  Calddeugh,  645.  Callahan, 
493.  Callan,  '545.  Callander,  553.  CaWer- 
Icyi  34,  4^,  47>'  Calvert,  560.  Cameron, 
iv.  Campbell,  127, 330,  488.  Campling,  537. 
Canary,  47,  133,  693.  Candleman,  383.  Can- 
field,  2 15.  Candy,  *628.  Cann,  547.  Caples, 
492.  Carl,  101.  Carley,  610.  Camun,  326. 
Carney,  573.  Carpenter,  643.  Carroll,  631. 
Carter,  144, 384,  560.  Carver  (259,  274,  286). 
Cary,  542, 681, 731.  Case,  73,  583, 646.  Cas- 
•6)1,687.  Castiglione,  280.  Catherwood,  657. 
"  Cerberus,"  458.  Chadwick,  158.  Chamard, 
628.  Chambers,  652,  675.  Cbampe,  169. 
Champlain,  1S5.  Chandler,  128,  370,  673 
(25,  261).  Chase,  628,  658.  Chapin  (464). 
Chatfield  (405).  Chatham,  444.  Chickerlng, 
322.  Child,  577.  Childs,  389.  Chinn,  112, 
655,677(258,281).  Christopher,  646.  Chubb, 
315.  Church,  524  (726).  Churchill,  656,  663, 
672,  678-9,(428.).  Cist,  352.  Clapp,  627,  727. 
Clare,  331.  Cbrk,  132,  589,  610,  627,  643 
(475)-  Clarke,  244,  560,  570,  581,  628,  678-9 
(168,727).  Clay,  243,  342.  Clegg,  689.  Clem- 
ens (i  v.,  356,  640).  "  Clericus,"  688.  Qeve- 
land  (547,  726).  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,  *i28, 138, 315, 668-9, 
683.    Colombo,  61  f.     Coh,  464.     Colion,  99, 

"3.  »49,  158.  «77.  «87,  a93,  3ai,  3Sa.  575i 
577-9,  58 1,  590.  Columbus,  429  (3).  Colvin, 
211.  "Com us,"  706.  "Condor,"  506.  Conk- 
Hng,  643.  Conway,  553,  557.  Cook,  159,  174, 
3»6,  •493.  553,  609,  645,  675,  687.  Cooper, 
«7o,  553,  555,  5'^,  645,  686.  Copland,  564, 
696  Corbin,  137, 658.  Corcoran  (422).  Cor- 
dingley,  686,  690-1.  Corey,  321,  •627,  •679. 
Comwallis,  169,  186,  238.  Corson,  22,  ^52 5, 
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- 
ens,  645.  Couser,  •197.  Cow.in,  324.  Cowen, 
490.  Cowles(42i).  Cowper,4o6.  Cox,  320, 
J5»,  538,  560-1.  Coy  (400).  Craft,  118,  579, 
|8a    Craigte,  645.    Craigin,  488.    Cramer, 


501.  Crane,  67a  "Crapaud,"  141.  "Cia- 
poo,"  141.    Crawford,  228,  59a     Crawshay, 

645.  Cripps,675.  Crist,  675.  Crocker,  61a 
Croll,  559.  Crooke,553,S57.  "Crookshanks," 
489.  "Crorcroran,"  42a.  Crosby,  609.  Cross- 
man,  376.  Cruger,  194.  "Cruncher,"  41a 
"Crusoe,"  V.  "Cuff,"  506.  Cummiogs,  627. 
Cunard,  59s.  Cunningham,  aai,  503,  517, 
5*3,  653,  656,  666-7,  7i2«  Cupples,  112,  113, 
655.  "Curl,"  407-25.  Currier,  iia.  Cur- 
tain, 491.  Curtin,  645.  Curtis,  519.  Cutten, 
567. 

"  Daggeroni,"  439,  439-  Dagucrre,  431 
Dalton,  *504,  655, 674-  Dana,  403.  Daniel, 
553,  558-  Daniels,  407.  Dante,  429.  Dar- 
nell, *244,  496,  589.  Davies,  645.  Davis, 
«7,  403,  563,  698.  Day,  127,  281,  •sw,  557, 
5S1,  658  (258,  272,  277).  Dean,  325,  526,  60a, 
663-5  (7'9)-  Dear  (379).  De  Baroncelli,  645, 
651,  688,  •698-9.  "De  Bogus,"  429,  439- 
De  Civry,  552-3,  697,  699.  Decrow,  133. 
"  Dedlock,"  466.  De  Forest  (45a,  724,  rayX 
Defoe  (v.).  De  Garmo,  400.  De  Gline,  700. 
De  Ligne,  645.  Delisle,  611.  Delnionico, 
611.  "  De  MoIIetts,"  4^9, 439-  Demosthenes, 
457,  724-    "Densdeth,"  429.     Derrington, 

646.  De  Senana>ur,  468.  Destree,  561.  De 
Villers,  699.  Dickens,  349, 466,  728  (354,  4«o. 
724).  Dickinson,  90, 344,  51a.  "  Dido,"  30$. 
Diederich,  679.  Dieskau,  185.  Dignam,  669. 
Dimock,  293  (274,  2S6).  Dinsmore,  666. 
Diogenes,  14.  Disraeli  (724).  Dixoo,  493. 
Dodge,  610,  657.  Donly,  330,  598,  •634,  655, 
669,677.  Doolittle,*3i9,  •634.  Dorion,  336. 
Dorr,  366-7.  DouUeday,  352,385.  Doughty, 
154.  Douglass,  330,  390.  Downey,  389, 
61a  Dowling,  •sai.  Downs,  658.  Draper, 
43  <,  470.  Draucker,  609.  Dray,  646,  651. 
"Dreeme,"  429,  431,  438-41-  Drew,  501, 
507,  512.  Drullard,  573.  Drummond,  646. 
Drury,  688.  Drysdale,  356.  Dubob,  •6a7, 
697,  699.  Ducker,  •524,  •561,  580,  615,  631, 
655,  661-2,  675,  693,  710.  Duncan,  552,  558. 
687, 697,  •699.  Dunn,  625, 627-8.  Dunsford, 
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.  Egan,  667  (154). 
Egleston,  578.  Ehrlich,  217.  Eldred,  114, 
•377,  378.  •  "  EUas,"   679,    Elixabeth,  453- 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixvii 


£!ffler,  603.  Elwcll,  •sso,  573,  574,  •ea? 
(»S7,  269.  3S3-4,  358,  3621  36s.  3WJ-70)-  E'/, 
187,  526»  643,  660  (3S6).  Emerson,  731,  733. 
EmpsGn,56o.  Engleheart,  553.  EngUsli>6io, 
646,675.  Enslow,  351.  Eutler,  610.  Erics- 
toD,  593.  Ernberg,  3S9.  Emst,  697.  Ers- 
kine.  6S4.  Ethcringtou,  $24,  *546-S,  648, 6S5, 
*689,  693-3.  Euripides,  466.  Evans,  2x1, 
3»-».  334,  37S,  609,  645,  669  (385).  Evans, 
724(464)>  Everest,  •bsS.  Everett  (179, 189, 
Z91).     Kverts,  581.     EwcU,  347. 

"Fied,"  534,  543,  55«.  641, 643,647.  Fair, 
.553.  FairfieJd  (109, 714).  Falconer,  555, 686. 
Faraday,  403.  Farnsworth,  559.  Fair,  527. 
Fanan,  685.  Farrar,  575,645.  Farrell,  597, 
6a8.  Farrington,  517,645.  Favre,69S.  Feldt- 
mann,  645.  Fell,  553,  628.  Fenoglio,  70a 
Fenirick,  635.  Ferguson,  62S.  Ferris,  470. 
FesBenden,  323.  Field,  80.  Fields,  15.  Fink- 
Icr,  ^  492.  Fish  (2;6).  Fisher,  345,  660. 
Fisk,448.  Fiske,«ii3,i42,*522.  Fitton,566. 
567.  Flaglor,  475.  Flei2,6i2.  Fleming,  245, 
$00,657.  Fletcher,  553, 556-7,646.  Florence, 
344*  Floyd  (214).  Folger,  370.  Fontaine, 
284, 523.  Foote,  559.  Force,  352.  Fortner, 
558.  Foster,  93,  513,  635,  655.  •667,  674, 
679,  Foiilkes,  56a.  Fourdrinier,  663,  •665. 
Fowler  (224).  Fox,  636,  688^,  693  (474). 
Franklin,  386,  70a.  Fraser,  329,  553.  Frazer, 
J3'i  645.  Freer,  aoi.  Fremont,  421.  Fri- 
bttig,  J29.  Fuller,  574, 645  (410),  Fumivall, 
675.    Fussell,  685.    Fyffc,  560. 

Gadd,  645.  Gade,  570.  Gaines,  c  r. ,  379. 
Ganage(464).  Gambitz,  494.  Gamble,  553, 
55&  Gambrinus,  612.  Garfield,  93,  724. 
Garrard,  '698.  Garrett,  282, 688.  Garrison 
(708X  Gates,  1 1 8-9,  183,  186,  579,  587. 
Gault,  560-1.  Gcbert,  6^.  Geddes,  559-60. 
"Gce8ee,"28i.  Genslinger,  •670.  George, 
**7i  S^i,  5^4>  Getty,  610.  Gibb,  645. 
Gibbes,66&  Gibbs.sst,  367.  Gibbons, 691. 
Gibion,  489,  493,  625.  Gifford,  658.  Gil- 
bert, 562  (465).  Gill,  137,  560,  683.  Gilman, 
>36.  y*3.  507,  57^*  •6j7,  643,  663-4,  666.  Gil- 
^^t  347-  Gimblette,  646.  Giotto,  429. 
Glen, 650.  Gnaedinger,  634.  Goddard,  402-3, 
673.688.  Godet,  355.  Gostze,  21.  Golder, 
$5i<  Goldsmith  (iv.).  Goodman,  326, 615, 
^S,  655,  675.  Goodnow,  •527.  Goodwin, 
1»»  •535-7,  543.  553-4,  558.  Gordon,  244, 
3».  Gorman,  244.  GormulIy,683.  Gomall, 
696.  Gorringe,  465.  Gorton,  546.  Gossett, 
5H-    Gould,  79.    Gowdy»   527.    Goy,  688. 


Goyne,  562.  Grace,  96.  Gracey,653.  Grant, 
465,  724-5,  729,  73«.  Graves,  114,  119.  3*4, 
530,627.  Gray,  561.  Greatrix,  325.  Greeley, 
AVh  727-  Green,  138,  621,  646.  Greene, 
327,  352.  Grecnsidcs,  561.  Gregory,  348, 
564.  GrifEn,  646,  683,  6S5,  689,  690.  Griffith 
(384).  Griggs,  609.  Grimes,  581.  Groom, 
645.  Grout,  545.  Guemey,  553.  Gulick, 
•627,  Gumey,  644.     Guy,  552. 

"Hal,"  618.  Hale,  731.  Hall,  75,  236, 
560  U^O.  Hallam,  559,  563-4.  Haisall,  657. 
Hamel,  330.  Hamerion,  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.  Harman,  554. 
Harper.  158,  242,  355,  390-«f  402-4,  475.  4«3i 
700.  Harrington,  41.  Harris,  164,  627-8, 
643.  645  (v.,  24,  321,  380).  Harrison,  328, 
553*  5631 663-4.  Harrod,  236.  Harston,  560. 
Hart,  526,  589,  620,  645,  655,  •660,  674,  678. 
Haslctt,  *638.  Haskell  (733).  Hathaway, 
6a8  (259).  Hawley,  658.  Hay,  645,  695. 
Hayes,  236,  322,  539,  •540.  543.  S8i,  •627. 
Haynes,  217,  546,  625.  Hazleton,  559-60. 
Hazlett,  114,  121,  U*),  244,  3»4,  506,  5»3-M, 
518,  67s  (102,  179, 673).  Heald,  154.  Heard, 
645,  679.  Heath,  503,  628,  685,  656.  Heck- 
man  (2S9X  "  Hcep,"  424-5.  Helraer,  216. 
Hemmenway,  •517.  Hendee,  629,  675,  693 
(123,  254)*  Hepinstall,  314,  319.  Herbert, 
645.  Hernu,  546,  555.  Herrick,  472  (195, 
295).  Herring,  597.  Hesketh,  645.  Hether- 
ington,  330.  Heymer,  574.  Hibbard,  598, 
627,  655,  679.  Hicks,  528-9.  Hipgins,  336 
(239)  High,  351,  484,  Vs.  498,  552,  589-90. 
675.  Higinbotham,  529.  Hildebrand,  645. 
Hill,  III,  153,  401,  500,  627.  Hillier,  547-8, 
643,  6S6-7,  689-90,  692-3,  694.  Hills,  557, 
639,645.  Hinchcliife,  645.  Hitchcock,  675. 
"Hoad,"  398, 400-1.  Hoadley,  400.  Hodges, 
664,674,704(67-18).  Hodgin8,695.  Hodg- 
man,  562.  Hoffman,  333.  Hoff master,  an. 
Hogg,  628,  645,  649,  695.  Holcombe.  323-4- 
Holland,  513,  527,  5S1,  728.  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,  201.  How- 
ard, 127,  348,  453,  542,  5«9,  •550, 666-7,  681-2, 
(198,320,659).  Howell,  675.  Howells,  215, 
428.  Howland,  *656-7  (659).  Howitt,  404. 
Hubbard,  482,  696.     Hudson,  185.     Hughes, 


bcviii       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


S53i  64S>  Hugo,  439.  Hull,  539.  Hume, 
561,  565.  Humphrey,  352.  Hunt,  222  (304)- 
Hunter,  *670, 675.  Huntingdon,  677.  Hunt- 
ington, 582, 625,  628.  Huntley,  675.  Hunts- 
man, 557.  Hurd,  402.  Hurlbert  (431,  44X1 
463,  720-1). 

lUlBgworth,  64s.  Imboden,  347.  Ingall, 
S99>  645.  Inwards,  6S9.  Iliife,  548,  550, 
648,  684-S7, 689-92, 694.  Irons,  646.  Irving, 
79.  Irnk-in,  559,  •6aS.  "  Isabel,"  215-6 
(427-8).  Ives,  67S-  "  Ixion,"  508,  673,  688. 
"Jack,"  4«o-a5-  Jackson,  347,  643. 
Jacques,  698.  Jacquin,  611.  Jacquot,  651, 
699.  Jaman,  347.  James,  432,  545.  Jarrold, 
683.  Jarvis,  •486.  Jefferaon,  339,  351,  435. 
Jeffery,  683.  Jeffries,  546.  Jenkins,  •187, 
•3a7i  330,  559i  567-8.  ^627,  635,  •666-8,  677 
(617, 619,  704-8).  Johnson,  185,  323,  347,  35»» 
408,  4a7»  4361  470,  508,  513,  5S8,  625,  •628, 
643.  645. 677,  679,  765  (161).  Johnston,  470, 
634.  "Jonathan,"  402.  Jones,  69,  283-4, 
538.  •539.  627,  645,  684,  719  (36S).  Joshua, 
733'  JosHn,  •197  (2a,  107,  171).  Joy,  560. 
Judd,  582,  685,  *689,  692.  *'  Juggernaut," 
444.    Jumel,  72.     "  Jupiter,"  688. 

Kam,  ^34.  Kattell,  218.  Keam,  562. 
Keefe,  561,  565.  Keen,  547,  686.  Kehh. 
Falconer*  555-  KeMogR.  493-  Kelly,  690 
(706).  Kftmble,  728.  Kemmann,  697.  Ken- 
daD,  112,  526,  •627,  675,  686,  Kendrick, 
f 8s.  Kenworthy,  645.  Kerr,  598.  Kerrow, 
553.  Kershaw,  526.  Ketcham,*i97.  Kider- 
Ic^t  553-  Killits,  349.  Kinch,  588,  658. 
King,  1 13,  X26-7, 672, 698.  Kirkpatrick,  •627, 
677.  Kirkwood,  575.  Klugc,  675.  Knapp, 
67s.  Knight,  562, 64s,  688.  Knowlton,  336. 
Kno;K,  ^628, 658.  Knox-Holntes,  645.  Koch, 
$54.  Kohont,  553.  Kolp,  •340.  Kostovitx, 
48r,  551.  Kron,  23,  48,  63,  279,  326,  367. 
526,  671,  679,  706,  720.  Knag,  523.  Kurtz, 
668.     Kusel,  •524. 

Ladlsh,  671.  Lafon,  156.  Laing,  645. 
Laird,  628.  Lakin,  378,  508,  526-8.  Lalle- 
reent,  139-42,  394.  Lamb,  114,  434.  Lam- 
son,  17,  22,  4«.  45.  6«6,  714  (260.1,  269, 
S73).  Landy,  675.  Lane,  330  (399).  Lang, 
686,  722.  Langdown,  *569.  Langer,  697. 
I^ngley,  •sso,  635  (319).  Lansdown,  327. 
Lansing,  656.  Larette,  693.  Larkin,  127. 
Lathrop,  127.  Lawford,  504.  Lawrence, 
93i*95'  Lawton,*627.  Lazare,666.  "Lean- 
der,"  a  16.  Lee,  558,  679.  Leeson,  645. 
Leete,  132.    L^ger,  699.    Lennox,  s54-5f  645, 


686.  1^0(714).  Leonard,  6o>  Leslie,  323. 
Lester,  559.  Letts,  681-2.  Leweliyo,  55^ 
Lewis,  7,  •524,  628,  631,  652,  696  (463X 
Lillibridge,  128,  57S.  Lincoln,  127,  422,  447, 
465f  724-5-  L»n«.  554.  Lippincott,  i,  168, 658* 
702.  Lister,  560.  Little,  471,  561,  68a 
Livingston,  594,  627  (714).  Lloyd,  151,  553. 
Locket,  645.  Logan,  609,  645.  Long,  560. 
Longfellow,  430.  Longman,  687.  Lcng- 
streth,  618.  Loomis,  527.  Lord,  237.  Loid- 
ing,  561.  Leasing,  700.  Louis  (24).  Lovci^ 
ing,  525,  679.  Low,  523,  548,  659,  6S9,  •690. 
Lowiy,  569.  Luke,  645.  Lyne,  566,  696., 
Lsron,  218.     Lynns,  470. 

MacavUy,  ^527.  McBride,  319,  634. 
McCall,  378.  McCandlitth,  548,  689,  •691X 
McCann,  527.  McCaw,  326.  McOcilaa 
(422).  McClintock,  680.  McClure,  515,656, 
65S  (702).  McCbok,  228.  McCormack,  523. 
McCray,  655.  McDonnell,  128,  138,  149, 
237.  «48p  325.  388,  484,  508-13,  5»5-»7,  5«9-a«W 
5*4.  527-30,  553.  569.  575.  7«4.  McGarrett, 
114,631.  "McGillicuddy,"  433.  MacGowaa, 
>97,  579.  Mclnturff  (345,  383).  McKee, 
41.  McKenzie,  660.  Mackey,  100.  Mo- 
Maniis,  611.  McMaster,  186.  McMillan, 
587.  McNathan,  67a  McNeil,  582.  Mo- 
Nicoll,  598.  MacOwen,  619, 674.  Macown, 
325.  McRae,  652.  Macredy,  640,  645,  65a, 
695.  McTigue,  315.  Mac  William,  548, 689, 
693.  Maddox,  645.  Mahan,35i.  "Mahlier," 
422.  "Major,"  658.  Manny,  666.  Marcfae* 
gay,  698.  "Maigery,"  506.  Markham,  223. 
Marriott,  553-5,  557, 646, 685.  Marsden,  627. 
Marsha],  578.  Marston,  659.  Martin,  281, 
564,  652.  Marvin,  *66o,  675,  687.  Mason, 
>».  323.  523.  SS9>6o,  645.  681-2.  Mathews 
(438, 457-6 1 )■  Malheys,245.  Matthews,  500, 
587.  Maveety,  323.  Maxwell,  245,  50a 
May,  567.  Maynard,  610.  Mayor,  553. 
Mead,  164,  *5o9.  Meagher  (422).  Meeker, 
493.  Menzies,  686.  Mercer,  553,  557,  606. 
Merrill,  198,  401,  476,  *492*  609.  Mershon, 
678.  Meyer,  547,  645-  Meyers,  668,  67S-ft. 
MIdgely,  iii,  •513,  515  (258,  274,  276-7,379). 
Miles,  672.  Miller,  244,  561,  '627,  634,  643, 
655.  *75.  679  (338,  630).  Milner,  542-3,  599. 
Mills,  492,  553,  555-8,  645,  686  (v.,  338,  630). 
Mitchell,  645.  Mobley,  242.  Moigno,  698. 
Monk,  645.  Monod,  400-a.  Montcalm,  185. 
Moody,  560,  652.  Moore,  172,  a  10,  say,  535, 
548,  554-5. 685, 689,  •690, 691-3  (729).  Moor- 
house,  557.    <Moraii,  245.    Morgarn,  499,  610. 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


\x\x 


Moli^re,  712.  Morley,  645*  Morrb,  645, 
683.  Moniaon,  177,  535^  670,  693.  Morse, 
43«,  434. 470-  Moftby,  347, 379-  Moses,  733. 
Mott,  470,  561.  Mountfort,  567.  Mudd,  637, 
66&  Mudge,  663-4>  Munger,  3210,  675. 
Mimroe,  19S,  61 5,  626,  627,  710  (24).  Myers, 
«45.  500.  •590.  62S,  •67S. 

Nadal,  447-9  (444»  7*0-  Nairn,  540,  551, 
616,639-90,692-3.  "Nauiicus,"  6»4.  Need- 
ham,  564.  Neibon,  675.  Nelson,  660.  Neu- 
hofiEer,  562.  Neve,  6S6.  Newcastle,  470. 
Newman,  186.  Nicholson,  175.  Ninimo, 
560.  NUb:c,69S.  Nix,  553.  Nixon,  554-6. 
Noab,  V.  Noon,  153.  Norris,  567,  610. 
Northrup,  5S7.     Nungesser,  83.     Nunn,645. 

(yBrlen,39i,6sS.  "  Octopus,"  690.  Og- 
den,  193.  Oliver,  627,  645,  666-7.  Ollapod, 
6)6.  Olmsted,  93,  95,  335>  O'Mara,  327. 
0*Neil,  327.  Ord,  645.  O'Reilly,  657. 
O'Rottrke,  171.  Orr,  635.  Osbom,  197. 
Osbonie,  660.  O^ood,  15,  293,  3S6,  504, 
575.  577-  Oiis,  674.  Overman,  662-5,  676, 
679.     "Owl,"  667.    Oxborrow,  538,  553, 555. 

Padman,  5-50-61.  Page,  493-*4.  574»  57S, 
589-90.  Pagis,  651,  69S.  Pagnioud,  699. 
Psibter,  S67-9L  "Pakeha,"  566,  569.  Pal- 
ii«y»  352,  3Sd.  Palmer,  149,  5S9,  628,  6S7. 
Pftngboni,  345-  Paritschke,  697.  Park,  678. 
Parker,  105,  56a,  569,  610.  Parmely,  579. 
Pannenter,  48S.  Parry,  793.  Parsons,  127, 
*5i6-i7, 616, ^627.  Patch,  167, 2 15-16.  Pater- 
•on.  S3'.  539-401  5«2,  6S1.  Pattison,  645. 
Patton,5<x>,*67o.  Paul,  "44a."  588.  Payne, 
634,  6SJ-3.  Pcabody,  515.  Peacock,  23. 
Pean.5S3-  Pearce,686.  Peavey,576.  Peck, 
lOQ.  Peirce,627.  Pellecontre,  698.  Pelton, 
332.  Pennell,  530,  6i6,  627, 655, 687.  Percy, 
loa  Perham,  •515,  573  (257,  277,  279). 
Perigo,  100.  *'  Perker,"  5 16,  567.  Perkins, 
61S,  645.  Perreaux,  698.  Peterkin,  645. 
Peters,  290- ».  67a.  Pettengill,  628,  799(375. 
377).  Pettce  (260, 276).  Petter,  645.  Phelps, 
16&  PhOip,  6S2.  Philiips,  20S,  379,  *55o, 
577.  639,  645,  646,  656,  658,  683  (258,  277). 
Phtlpoc,  646,  65a  Piatt,  527.  Pierrepont 
(464i  Pick,  541.  Pickering,  394.  400-5. 
577,  693.  Pickett,  386.  "  Pickwick,"  280. 
Pitcher, 327.  Pitman,  523.  Pittr444X  Place, 
513.  "Podwinkle,"  506.  Polhill,  50a  Polk, 
660.  Pool,  643.  Pond,  346.  Pope,  24,  106, 
3a3-4»  474.  657-9,  664-5,  673.  675,  678,  •680, 
7oa-3»  711-14.  Popovitz,  481.  Porter,  122, 
M$A  '79.  as*  («73),  J^  Post,  •6a8. 
S2fO 


"Potiphar,"  433-  Potter,  584,  •637.  643, 
64s.  67s.  •680  (630).  Power,  176,  3  IS.  Pow- 
ell, 348,  645.  Pratt,  106,  III,  139,  147,  •50s, 
581,  615,  625-7,  643.  656-9.  663-4,  666-7,  669, 
672,  675,  678,  688-9,  703  (a4,  619,  65S-9,  70a, 
714).  Preble,  610.  Preecs,  567.  Prcssey, 
671.  Prial,  •666.  Price,  307, 341,  646. 
Prince,  470,  525,  675,  693.  Proudfoot,  559. 
Prout,  646.  Putnam,  139,  625,  637.  "Quashi- 
boo,"  444. 

Baddiff e,  430.  Raleigh,  571.  Ra]l,*628. 
Ralph,  154.  Rand,  674.  Ranken,  645. 
Rankine,  698.  Ray,  500.  Read,  627.  Reed, 
370,  656,  65S.  Reeves,  660.  Regamey,  698. 
Reidesel,  127.  "Remus,"  v.,  34, 38a  Renan, 
472.  Rennert,6o>.  Reve'.l,  249, 542-3.  Rey- 
nolds, 527-S,  ^533,  553*4>  646,  696.  Rhodes, 
675.  Rice,  564  (24,  35).  Rich,  193,  675. 
Richard,  698.  Richards,  *678.  Richardson, 
62,  63,  231,  646,  658,  6S5.  Ridielieu,  459. 
Rideing,  243.  Rideout,  *49o-i.  Ridgway, 
571.  Ridley  (310).  Rielly,  327.  Rifat,  48a. 
Uigoley,  698.  Ritchie,  172,  507,  511,  523. 
Rittenger,  697.  Roach,  316.  Robbins,  645. 
Roberts,  446,  468,  541.  543,  563-4,  599,  645-6, 
6S7.  Robinson,  "44,"  646,  *' 719,"  Roche- 
foucauld, 727.  Rockwell,  609,  656,  663,  673, 
67&-9.  Roether,  315.  Rogers,  3 18,  474,  575, 
•628,  632,  *67i.  Rollins,  499.  Ronaldson, 
561.  Rood,  197.  Roorbach,  164(173).  Roose- 
velt, 657  (455).  Root,  680.  Ropes,  352. 
"Rosalind,"  439.  Rose,  489.  Rosenbluth, 
395.  Ross,  579,  •627,  635.  Rothe,  •515. 
Round,  687.  Rousset,  *553-3.  Rowe,  543, 
629,675.  Roy,  330.  Roylance,  646.  Rucker, 
646.  Rugg,  565.  Ruggles,  598.  Rumney, 
646.  Rushworth,  ^545.  •  Russell,  553,  696. 
Rust,  138  (581).  Rutter,  599,  646.  Ryrie, 
319.637- 

Bage,  i47>  St.  Germains,  470.  Salsbury, 
544.  Sandham,  379,  348,  5»»-»a  (258,  374). 
Sargeant,  164.  Saveall,  646.  Savile,  646^ 
Sawtell,  377,  378.  Sawyer,  679.  Schaap, 
628.  Scherer,  628.  Schmied,  697.  Schu- 
macher, 592.  Schwalbach,  586.  Scott,  414, 
4»a,  5*7(393,  7a7>-  Scribner,  346,  35a,  43». 
SOf ,  570, 655,  65S,  6S7.  Scrutton,  646.  Scud- 
der,  658.  Searlc,  646.  Seely,  ^348,  687. 
"Selah,"  154.  Senseney,  677.  Serrell,  177. 
Service,  567.  Servoss,  113.  Seward,  734. 
Seymour,  333.  Shafer,  316.  Shakespeare, 
407  (4»9).  Sharp,  529,  671, 691.  Shays,  127, 
147.    Sheam,  324.    Sheffey,   484.    Shelley, 


Ixx 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


454,  468.  Shepard,  114,  527,  588  (70S). 
Sheppee,  646.  Sherburne,  578.  Sliernian, 
344,  3;o,  488  (101,  209-10,  334).  Sheriff,  500. 
Sherriff,  646.  Shields,  *628.  Shiznroin,  561. 
Shiptou,  643-4,  C46,  6S7,  691.  Sholes,  594, 
627.  Shriver,5S7.  Siddall,  718.  Sider,646. 
Sidney,  466.  Silberer,  697.  Sill,  vi.  Simp- 
son, 100,  646.  Singer,  696.  Skinner,  370, 
569.  Skoglund,  560.  Slocum,  503.  Sloper, 
564.  Smiih,  71,  "92,"  X12,  iiS,  126-7,  '76, 
182-3,  »23, 366, 43a»  493»  499»  5«». 509. 523.  560, 
579.  589.  "607,"  646,655,671,  691,  "718." 
Snell,  152.  Snicker,  344,  383.  Snow,  6S7. 
Socrates,  466.  Solcy,  351.  Solomon,  343. 
"Solon,"  477.  Somers,*52o-2i.  Souleiman, 
481.  Spalding,  100,  499,  508.  Spead,  575. 
Spencer,  554,  685,  6S7.  Spicer,  560,  652. 
Spinner,  208.  Spofford,  96.  Spong,  564. 
"Spot,"  410.  Spraker,2oo.  Spurrier,  •684-5, 
688.  Stabler,  376,  497  (373)-  Stables,  684. 
Stacpoole,  646.  Stall,  323-4,  378,  675  (371, 
386).  Stanton,  336,  50S,  546,  547,  564-5,  609. 
Stork,  186, 366.  Starkey,56i.  Stead,  600, 642, 
646.  Steffner,  500.  Sieiger,  100.  Stephen, 
733.  Stephenson,  *539.  Stevens,  48,  15S, 
ao4,  305,  *4  73-84,  •55»,  55a,  558.  S70-2,  599, 
655,  657,  668,  675,  698.  Stevenson,  560,  598. 
Stewart,  152,  244-  Stiles,  403.  "Stillflecl," 
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.  Streeter,  ii.  (727).  Strotip,  176. 
Strong  (402).  Slruihers,  112.  Stunncy,525, 
•548-9,  643,  6S4-6,  690,  692.  "Stuyvesant,** 
433.  Suberlie,  699.  "Suchaplace,"  446.  Sul- 
livan, 158.  Sumner,  609.  Surprise,  "628, 
632,  *67o.  Sutton,  554,  646.  Swallow,  •128, 
Sweeney,  612.  Swcetser,  127,  293  (577). 
•  Swiss,  138.  Sylvester,  520.  Symonds,  529. 
Snyder,  100. 

Tagart,  553.  Taintor,  198.  Tanner,  639. 
Tate,  583.  Tatum,  520.  Taylor,  168,  295, 
344.  •52*>i  609.  TeRetmcier,  531,  534,  542-3, 
558,  599  (v.).  Teller,  196.  "  Telzah,"  102, 
179,506,575,673.  Tennyson,  673.  Terront, 
4,  547.  Terry,  626-7.  Thatcher,  400.  Thayer, 
576,672.  Theodore,  611.  Thomas,  244,400, 
546,646.  Thompson,  202,  206,  216,  55^,  561, 
663.  Thomson,  646.  Thorbum,  599.  Thome, 
559-60.  Thomfeldt,  562,  565,  696.  Tibbils 
(131).  Tibbs,  330,  631,  646,  669.  Tichener, 
218.  Ticknor,  293.  Tift,  hvy.  Tilden,  79 
(464).    Timms,  504.     Tinker,  680.    Tisdale, 


635.  "  Titanambungo,"  535.  Titus,  658.  To- 
bias, 646,  "679."  Todd,  589,  646  (633). 
Tolstoi,  7:9.  Tonkin,  562.  Tonnet,  699. 
ToBcani,  700.  Tough,  652.  Townsend,  669. 
Townson,  646.  Tracy,  505.  TrigweU,  540. 
Trocdel,  696.  Trow,  100.  "  Tulkinghom," 
466.  Tupper,7a8.  Turner,  558.  Tun;eneff, 
728.  Turrell,  646.  Twain,  iv.,  356,  640W 
"Twiddle,"  506.  Twiss,  138.  Tyler,  laS, 
«35.  »38,  •«49,  510,  581,  •627. 

Upham,  112-13,  578,  655.  Upstill,  56a. 
Undercuffler,  387.  Under^'ood,  508.  Ure, 
646. 

Vail,  171.  Vanderbilt,  33,  156,  185.  Van- 
derveer,  90.  Van  Loan,  187.  Van  Sicklen, 
321,  519,  •627,  675  (630).  VarJet,  651.  Var- 
ley,  646.  Vamey  (257,  274).  Vaux,  95,  666. 
"Velox,"  688.  Verhoeff,  •235.  Vermeule, 
176.  Victoria,  471.  Viele,  94.  Viltard,  651. 
"Viola,"  439.  Viollet,  698.  "Virginia,"  44a. 
Virtue,  570.  Vivian,  322.  Vogel,  552.  "Von 
Twillcr,"  433. 

Wade,  646.  Wagner,  80.  Waite  (464,  726). 
Wainwright,  625  (597).  Wales,  93, 94,  469-70^ 
Walker,  112-13,  559,  562,  646,  651,  679,  697. 
Wallace.  609.  WaUer,  4,  547  (i3o).  WaUey 
(372).  Wallis,646.  Walmcsly,  554.  Walter- 
mire,  49a.  Wapple,  489.  Warburton,  543. 
Ward,  658  (730).  Waring,  553.  Wame,  685. 
Warner,  286, 646,  683.  Warren,  55S.  Wash- 
ington, 25,  72,  74,  77,  "7,  143,  163,  171,  186, 
i97i  350,  367.  39',  434,  702.  Wassung,  643. 
Waterljouse,  557,627.  Waterman,  516,  559. 
Watson,  112,  154,  554.  Way,  635.  Way- 
mouth,  646.  Wayne,  389,  609.  "  Wealthy," 
506.  Webb,  352,  554.  Webber,  655,  *674-5. 
Weber,  351-2, 629, 675.  Webster,  320-  Wedg- 
wood, 470.  Weitz,  315.  Welch,  628  (294, 
401).  Welford,  570,  644,  687-S,  691.  WeUs, 
6a8.  Wenley,646.  Went  worth,  631.  West, 
320,  325.  Weston,  504,  643-4,  646,  •656-7, 
663-4,676-7,712.  Westbrook,  634.  Wester- 
velt,  114,  182-3,  321.  Wetmore(i75).  Whar- 
low,  ^543.  Whatton,  "544,  646.  Wheatley, 
599.  Wheeler,  650, 655, 666-7, 674.  Wheler, 
3S5.  Whipple,  ir4,  182-3.  Wlntall,  520. 
Whitcomb,  592.  White,  201,  244,  526,  559, 
598,  674  (238-9).  Whiting,  •! 38-9,  676.  Wig- 
glesworth,  646.  Wilcox,  666  (94,  702).  Wild, 
542.  Wilkinson,  677,  210, 628.  William,  723. 
Williams,  95.  185,  316,  530,  558,  577,  •582, 
652,  673, 693  (107,  258,  272, 275-*,  45»)-  Will- 
iamson, 684.    WiUiaon,638.   Willoughby,  570, 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixzi 


fc»7.  Wilson,  loo,  38a,  525,  534,  558,  690, 693 
(294).  Winchell,  114.  Winthrop,  429,  431, 
439.443.610.  Wistor,  627(354).  Witty,  400, 
Wood,  158,  172,  175,  177,  317,  377-8,  383, 
•j88^,  400,  498»  562,  584.  S93»  625,  '627,675-7 
{644).  Woodburn,658.  Woodman,  530.  Wood- 
roofe,  635.  Woodruff,  334.  Woods,  646. 
Woodside,  499,  675.  Woodward,  198.  Wool- 
worth,  148.  Worraley,  241.  Worth,  390, 
609.    Wragge,  560.     Wright,  18,  23,  93,  ^628, 

I  643,  646,  660,  665,  674,  677. 

I  Xmophon  viii. 

TappleweU,  538.     Yates,  •519-30  (386). 

^  Yopp,  638.     "Yorick,"    402.    Yorke,    687. 

Young,  105,  '535,  •556,  575,  646, 655, 679, 686. 
Yoongman  (387). 

7jM*harlM,  713  (170-1.  i74f  192-3)-    ^^h, 
333.    Zimmerman,  638.    Zmertych,  551.    Zu- 

i  bowite,  558. 

I  Contributors*  Rbcords. 

(Mrs.)  J.  H.Allen,  354.    E.  Ash,  564.  B. 

B.  Ayere,  •518.     G.    W.    Baker,  •487.  A. 

B.  Barkman,  •530.  E,  G.  Bamett,  345.  H. 
Barthol,  551-2.  J.  M.  Barton,  201.  A. 
Bas««,  •sss-  C.  D.  Batchelder,  575-6.  L. 
J.  Bates,  505-6.  J.  W.  Bell,  •sag.  P-  L. 
Benihard,  154  W.  Binns,  •543.  R.  O. 
Bishop,    563.     H.     Bkickwell,    554.    J.  L. 

j  Bley,  •493.     A.  M.    Bolton,    549,  6S3.     W. 

Bowies,  •546.     W.  J.  Bowman,  492.     G.  L. 

I  Bridgraan,  •550.     C.  P.   Brigham,  377.     G. 

R.  Broatlbcnt,  562.  F.  W.  Brock,  545.  J. 
W.  M.  Brown,  •537.  G.  L.  Budds,  565.  H. 
(illan.  •545-  W.  W.  Canfield,  215.  W. 
CoUios,  •128,  138.  J.  K.  and  T.  B.  Con- 
way, 553,  557.     F.  R.  Cook,  •493.    J.  Cop- 

I  land,  •564-5.     E.  H.  Corson,  525,  577.     H. 

C.  Courtney,  544-  M,  W.  Couscr,  •197.  W. 
I  F.  Grossman,  376.  R.  C.  Cox,  560-1.  J.  G. 
I            Dalton,  •504.     W.  W.  Darnell,  •244.     P.  C. 

Darrow,  xcii.  S.  H.  Day,  •512.  J.  S. 
j  Dean,  526.     P.  E.  DooHttle,  •319.     B.  W. 

Doughty,  154-  J.  D.  Dowling,  •521.  S.  B. 
'  Downey,  389.     F.  E.  Drullard,  574.     H.  E. 

Ducker,  •524.  A.  Edwards,  565.  F.  A.  El- 
I  dred,  •377.     H.    Etherington,   •546-8.      W. 

P.   Evans.   378.     I.  K.   Falconer,  555.     W. 

Farrington,  517.     H.  C.  Finkler,  489-92.     G. 

F,  Ftske,  113,  142,  •522.    J.  Fitton,  567-8. 

W.  T.  Fleming,  245,  500.     L.  Fletcher,  554, 

557.    C.   E.  Gates,   587.    A.   Gault,   560-1. 

W.  V.   Gilman,  •507-     S.  Goldcr,  551.    C. 


M.  Goodnow,  527.  H.  R.  Goodwin,  •336-7, 
554.  C.  H.  R.  Gossett,  554.  L.  B.  Graves, 
1 14.  T.  F.  Hallaro,  563.  H.  B.  Hart,  526. 
A.  Hayes,  •540-1.     F.  D.  Hclmer,  216.     E. 

A.  Hemenway,*5i7.  C.  H.  Hepinstall,3i4. 
W.  E.  Hicks,  528.  H.  J.  High,  •485.  C. 
Howard,  *sio.  W.  Hume,  561.  H.  Jarvis, 
•4S6.  F.  Jenkins,  ^187.  F.  M.  S.  Jenkins, 
•327. 330-  H.  J.  Jenkins,  568.  H.  J.  Jones, 
•538-40.  J.  T.  Joslin,  •197.  C.  D.  Ker- 
shaw, 526.  R.  Ketcham,  •197.  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, 
49a.  T.  Midgely,  •513-15.  A.  E.  Miller, 
344.  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,  530. 
W.  L.  Perham,  •sis.     R.  E.  Phillips,  ^550. 

C.  E.  Pratt,  •sos.  H.  R.  Reynolds,  jr., 
•533-4-  A.  C.  Rich,  193.  E.  and  W.  Rideout, 
•491.  A.  E.  Roberts,  563.  R.  P.  H.  Rob- 
erts, 541.  S.  Roether,  315.  A.  S.  Roorbach, 
164.  W.  Rose,  489.  T.  Rothe,  •sis.  P. 
Rousset,  ^552.  J.  F.  Rugg,  565.  G.  H. 
Rushworlh,  •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.   Shiplon,  691.    T.  B.  Somers, 

•520.    S.  G.  Speir, .    C.  Spencer,  554. 

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.  (J.  J. 
Taylor,  •520.  E.  Tegetmeier,  531-3.  G.  B. 
Thayer,  576.  R.  Tliompson,  216.  R.  A. 
andT.  H.Thompson,  561.     M.  Thonifeldt, 

562,  565-6,  696.  C.  E.  Tichener,  218.  N. 
P.  Tyler,  128,  138-9,  ^Mg,  •sio.  N.  H.  Van 
Sicklen,5i9.  J.  M.  Verhoeff,  ^235-7.  J.  S. 
Whalton,  •544.  H.  T.  Whailow,  •543.  J. 
H.  Whiting,  138.  F.  E.  Van  Meerbeke. 
xcv.  H.  &  W.  J.  Williams,  316.  H.  W. 
Williams,  •511-12.  W.  W.  Williams,  5^8. 
A.  J.   Wilson,  •534-5.     H.  S.  Wood,  •388. 


Ixxii        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


C.  C.  Woolworth,  •148.  F.  E.  Yates,  •519. 
A.  Young,  *%^S'    I-  Zmertych,  551. 

Journalism  op  thb  Wheel. 
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, — fuU-faced  type  showing  the 
more-important  ones : 

Algemeine  Sport-Zeitung(Ger.),  697.  Ama- 
teur Athlete (N.  Y), 619-20, 667-8.  Ameri- 
can Bicycling  Journal,  26, 504, 534, 643, 66i>-6, 
664,  687,  725.  American  Wheelman  (St. 
Louis),  528, 654,  671-2,  716,  799.  Archery  & 
Tennis  News,  663, 668.  Archery  Field  (Bos- 
ton), 658-9, 663, 668-9.  Athletic  Nevk-s(Eng.), 
693.  Athletic  News  &  Cyclists*  Journal 
(Eng.),  638.  Athletic  World  (Eng.),  688. 
Australasian,  696.  Australian  Cycling  News 
(Melbouroe),  558,  562-5,  652,  654,  665-6, 
706.  Australian  Cyclist  (Sydney),  564,  686. 
Australian  Sports  &  Pastimes,  696.  Bicy- 
cle (Hamilton,  Ont.),  66r.  Bicycle  (Mel- 
bounie),  695.  Bic>'cle  (.Montgomery,  Ala.), 
660, 670.  Bicycle  (N.  Y.),  660.  Bicycle  & 
Tricycle  Gazette  (Eng.),  638.  Bicycle  Ga- 
zette (Eng.),  688.  Bicycle  Herald  (Spring- 
field, Ms.),  672.  Bicycle  Journal  (Eng.), 
687-8.     Bicycler's  Record  (I.awrence,   Ms.), 

660.  Bicycle  Rider's  Magazine  (Eng.),  688. 
Bicycle  South  (New  Orleans),  654,  670, 67a. 
Bicycling  New.s(Eng.),  541-2,  544,  548-9.  S57i 
683,  687-8,  689-80,  693-5.  Bicycling  Times 
&  Touring  Gazette  (Eng.),  547-8,  688,  692. 
Bicycling  World  (Boston),  23,  27-9,  74,  92, 
101-2,  104-5,  io7i  m>  iM>  121,  128,  150,  152, 
157, 161-2,  164, 171,  179,  181, 199,202,  214,217, 
238,  249,  251,  253,  281,  314,  322,  340,  487-9, 
492-3,  500,  503-4,  506,  50S-12,  514,  5»7-»8, 
522,  525-6,  530,  553,  573»  575-6,  578,  591,  600, 
602-4,  615-18,  629,  643-4,  656-9,  662-5,  666-7, 
669,671-2,  673,  67s,  677-80,  683-6,  684-5,  702, 
704,  798.     California  Athlete  (San  Francisco), 

661,  688.  Canadian  Wheelman  (London, 
Ont.),  315.  3i9»  32».  326,  599,  635,  643,  654, 
660,  669-70,  707.  Cleveland  Mercury  (O.), 
660.  Cycle  (Milford,  Ms.),  660,  666,  678. 
Cycle  (Boston),  664-5,  798.  Cycling  (Cleve- 
kind),  245.  526,  660.    Cycling  (Eng.),  6SR-9, 

691.     Cycling  Budget  (Eng.),  .     Cycling 

Times  (Eng.),  6S6,  689, 798.  Cyclist  (Eng.), 
534,  537.  54",  548-9,  55»-*.  5S4»  S68,  599,  684, 
687-94.    Cyclista  (Hun.),  697,    Cycliste  Beige 


(Bel.),  70a  Cyclist  &  Athlete  (N.  Y.),  663. 
666,  668-9.  C.  T.  C  Gazette  (Eng.),  S99. 
63M4, 651-2,  687-S,  691,  694-5,  798.  Cydos 
(Eng.),  688.  Elizabeth  Wheelmen  (N.  J.). 
660.  Field  (Eng.),  531.  Hamilton  Bicyde 
(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  (Dublin),  640,  652. 
654,  685.  Ixion  (Eng.),  688.  Journal  des 
Sports  (Bel.),  700.  Land  &  Water  (Eng.), 
642,  695.  L.  A.  W.  Bulletin  (Phila.),  310-11, 
323,  388,  500,  572,  578,  583-90,  594,  614,  618, 
620-21,  624-6,  629-30,  633,  635,  654,  661, 
662,  665,  668,  674,  679,  707-8,  717,  720. 
M aandblad  (Dutch),  700.  Maine  Wheel,  66 1. 
Mechanic  (Smithville,  N.  J.),  522,  577,  671. 
Melbourne  Bulletin  (Yict.),  696.  Midland 
Athletic  Star  &  Cycling  Nci»"s  (Eng.),  6S8, 
695.  Mirror  of  American  Sports  (Chicago), 
672.  Monthly  Circular  of  C.  T.  C.  (Eog.). 
636,  691.  N.  C.  U.  Review  (Eng.),  648, 650. 
New  Haven  Bicycle  Herald,  660.'  N.  t. 
Referee,  696.  Olympia  (Eng.)  .  Out- 
ing (Boston),  105,  108, 114,  121,  149,  198,  244, 
279,  282, 320, 323,  330,  474-8,  481-4,  504,  5o<>. 
511,  512,  526,  534,  599,  600,  657-9,  674-5, 
678.  Outing  (N.  Y.),  57».  655,  669.60,  668. 
Pacific  Wheelman  (San  Francisco),  67a,  799. 
Pastime  Gazette  (Chicago),  672.  Philadel- 
phia Cycling  Record,  245,  485,  522,  526,  660, 
674.  Radfahrer  (Ger.),  552,  651,  6$6.7, 798. 
Recreation  (Newark),  600,  654,  663,668-9. 

Referee  (Eng.), .     Revue  V^locip^dtque 

(Fr.),  698.  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,  Tcnn.),  654,  670,  672,  707. 
Spectator  (St.  Louis).  323,  672.  Sport  (/r.), 
695.  Sport  (It.),  70a  Sport  &  Play  (Eng.X 
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),  67a. 
Sportsman  (Eng.),  686.  Sport  V^ocipMique 
(Fr.),  651,  69S.  Springfield  Wheelmen's  G». 
zette,  42,  64,  129,  255,  294,  323,  333.  353.  37«. 
39I1  485.  487,  49«.  49'i  5o'*»  5«9,  524.  5S8,  6oj, 
605.  610,  660,  661-2,  668,  676,  693,  706-7. 
Siahlrad  (Ger.),  70a  SUr  Advocate  (E.  Rocb- 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxiii 


eiter,  N.  H.),  SaS,  579,  654-5.  «©•!»  707. 
Seed  Wheel  (Ger.),  70a  Tidniog  for  Idrott 
<Swe.),  7«>-  Tireur  (Fr.),  69^  Tricycling 
Jcmrnal  (Eng.),  545*  600,  654,  685-6»  <t90-l. 
Tricydist  (Eng.),  543-4,  547.  555.  654,  686, 
010,692.  V<cio(Fr.),699.  Viloco  (Fr.),  699. 
Vfloc2  Beige  (Bel.),  699.  Vfloceman  (Fr.), 
69>.  Vaocc  Sport  (Fr.),  699.  V^locc  Sport 
et Vdloceman  R^uinis,  xcH.  Velociped (Ger.)> 
6$i,  697.  V^locipMe  (Grenoble,  Fr.),  699. 
V£odplHlc  (Paris,  Fr.),  698.  VdlodpMe  11- 
Iintri  (Fr.),  6>8.  V<Slocip^dIe  Beige  (Bel.), 
699.  V^ocip<Sdis  Illustrie  (Fr.),  69S.  Ve- 
lodpedisi  (N.  Y.),  698.  Vclocipedist  (Ger.), 
697.  Velodpedsport  (Ger.),  697, 699.  Veloci- 
pedo  (Sp.),  700.  Vd'.o  Pyrdn^n  (Fr.),  651, 
699.  Vermont  Bicycle  (W.  Randolph),  578, 
654,973.  Vitesse  (Fr.),  699.  Wayfarer  (Eng.), 
«di.  Western  'Cyclist  (Ovid,  Mich.),  660, 
669, 67*.  Wheel  (N.  v.),  53,  74,  93,  96,  109, 
114,  laS,  xjS,  154,  161,  164,  187,  I97.*»5iai7. 
M4.  3»o.  326,  34if  3S2,  4871  489.  492-3,  500. 
5M.  504,  5 » 7.  523.  529*  568,  574-5.  583,  5S5A 
589-90, 604-7.  619,  O43, 666-7, 669, 699,  704-5, 
707,  70S,  713,  79>  Wheeling  (Eng.),  524, 
538,  M7-S,  5S3-5i  564.  572,  6q2,  6a8-9,  639.41, 
647-5 1,  662,  6S3-4.  636,  699-90,  693-5,  700, 
707,  719.  79S.  Wheel  Life  (Eng.),  690-92, 
694,  706.  Wheelman  (Boston),  t,  34-5,  30, 
13.  35-6,  42,  49,  62,  82,  106,  IIS,  139-40,  155. 
159^  3o8-9,  334,  346.  255,  258, 268,  270, 277, 
279,396,314,348,  388,  390,  399,  495.  504, 
506-7,  5»2-i5,  5«7-*8,  522-3,  555.  631,  656-9, 
661, 673, 679,  69s,  697,  702,  703,  720.  Wheel- 
men's Gazette  (Springfield),  558,  559,  561, 
566,  579,  617-18,  619,  631,  654,  662,  674, 
706-7,  708-10,  799.  Wheelmen's  Record 
(Indianapolis),  xcii.  Wheel  World  (Eng.), 
3X>,  475.  548,  647,  657,  685,  688,  689-91, 692, 
694,  798.     Vale  Cyclist,  660. 

Editors^  -xxfriterSt  artidi^  publishers  and 
fruiters  0/  the  foregoing :  American  News 
Co.,  660,  669.  G.  Atkinson,  693.  J.  De* 
Arie»te,xcii.  J.  W.  Auten,  668.  H.  C. 
Bagot,  6^/6.  Baird  &  Co.,  668.  H.  S.  Bale, 
696.  J.  W.  Barnes,  66S-9.  H.  A.  Barrow, 
689.  R.  B.i&i!onc,  700.  A.  Bassett,  663-5, 
T04,  70S.  L.  J.  Bates,  506,  657,  673.  S. 
Baxter,  600,  657.  N.  M.  Bcckwith,  666-7. 
B.  Benjamin,  661.  Bicycling  World  Co.,  664, 
685.  C.  A.  Bicderman,  661.  P.  Bigelow, 
657-9.  B.  Bonami,  697.  J.  S.  Brierley,  669. 
W.  A.  Bryant,  667.    E.  H.Bum,695.    (Miss) 


M.  H.  Catherwood,  657.    Central  Press  & 

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

Clegg,689.  W.F.Coffee, jr., 668.  W.Cole, 
650.  E.  R.  Collins,  668-9.  J.  Copland,  696. 
C.  Cordingley,  691.  Cordingley  &  Sharp,  691. 
E.  H.  Corson,  6;^>-i.  Cycling  Pub.  Co., 
666-7.  Cyclist  Printing  Co.,  668.  P.  C.  & 
G.  S.  Darrow,  xcii.  J.  S.  Dean,  663-4.  E. 
De  GJiue,  700.  P.  De  VilJi5rs,  699.  J.  B. 
Dignain,  669.  B.  W.  Dinsmorc  &  Co.,  666. 
C.  R.  Dodge,  657.  H.  B.  Donly,  669.  H. 
E.  Ducker,  661-3, 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.  Etherington,  6S9-90,  693-3. 
Evangelist  Co.,  673.  W.  K.  Evans,  669.  V. 
Fenoglio,  700.  C.  H.  Fisher,  660.  Fleming, 
Brewster  &  Alley,  657.  E.  Foreslier,  69S. 
S.  C.  Foster,  667.  C.  W.  Founlrinier,  663, 
665.  C.  J.  Fox,  688,  693.  T.  F.  Garrett, 
6SS.  C.  H.  Genslingcr,  670.  A.  Gibbons,  691. 
A.  H.  Gibbes,  668.  W.  E.  Gilman,  663-5. 
W.  V.  Gilman,  666.  P.  GomaJl,  696.  H. 
H.  Griflin,  6^9-90.  L.  Harrison,  663-4,  C. 
E.  Hawley,  65S.  Hay,  Ntsbet  &  Co.,  695. 
G.  L.  Hillier,  547-8,  689-90,  693-4.  E.  C. 
Hodges  St  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. 
Iliffe  &  Son,  548,  689-93.  Iliffi  &  Stur- 
mey,  690.  J.  Inwards,  689.  L.  G.  Jacques, 
698.  F.  Jenkins,  666-7,  704-8.  H.  A.  Judd, 
689,  693.  H.  A.  King,  673.  W.  C.  King, 
698.  K.  Kron,  720.  D.  M.  Kurtr,  668.  L. 
C.  S.  Ladish,  671.  C.  Langer,  697.  P.  B. 
Lansing,  656.  M.  Lazare,  666.  W.  H. 
Lewis,  653,  696.  E.  A.  Lloyd,  690.  F.  P. 
Low,  548,  6S9-90,  693.  S.  Low,  Marston  & 
Co.,  659.  W.  McCandlish,  6S9-90.  J.  F. 
McClure,  656  9.  S.  S.  Mcaure,  656-9.  J.C. 
McKcnzic,  660.  G.  D.  McNathan,67o.  R. 
J.  Macredy,  653,  695.  W.  McWilliam,  548, 
689,  693.  C.  O.  Manny,  666.  W.  C.  Mar- 
vin,  660.  C.  L.  Meyers,  668.  S.  Miles,  673. 
G.  Moore,  692.  T.  Moore,  548,  6S9-90,  693. 
A.  G.  Morrison,  690, 693.  F.  X.  Miidd,  660. 
A.  Mudge  &  Son,  663-4.  C.  W.  Nairn,  6S9-90, 
693.  H.  E.  Nelson,  660.  E.  Diver,  666. 
W.  N.  Oliver  &  Co. ,  666.  Oliver  &  Jenkins, 
666-7.  M-  M.  Oj^bome,  660.  Outing  Co., 
659.  H.  Pagis,  698.  F.  Pagnioud,  699.  A. 
Paritschke,  697.  S.  M.  Pallon,  670.  R.  L. 
Philpol,  650.    J.  S.  Phillips,  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.  E. 
Pratt,  656^,  663-4,  667.  F.  P.  Prial,  666. 
C.  W.  Reed,  655,  658.  C.  S.  Reeves,  660. 
F.  M.  Riitiuger,  697.  Rockwell  &  ChurchiH, 
656.  J.  S.  Rogers,  671.  T.  Roosevelt,  657, 
660.  £.  J.  Schmied,  697.  E.  R.  Sliipton,  691. 
V.  Silbjrer,  697.  C.  B.  Smith,  691.  C.  F. 
Smith,  xcii.  J.  T.  Smith,  671.  H.  B.  Smith 
Machine  Co.,  671.  Springfield  Print.  Co.,66i- 
2, 675.  W.  J.  Spurrier,  6S8.  T.  Stevens,  655. 
W.  F.  Stone,  661.  H.  Sturmsy,  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.  Troedel  &  Co., 
696.  T.  H.  S.  Walker,  697.  W.  D.  Wel- 
ford,  6S8,  691.  F.  W.  Weston,  653,  655, 
663.4.  A.  D.  Wheeler,  666-7.  Wheelman 
Co.,  656-8.  Wheel  Pub.  Co.,  666.  J.  Wjl- 
cox,  666.  B.  Williams,  693.  A.  J.  Wilson, 
690,673.  W.  M.  Wright,  660,  665.  Vaux& 
Co.,  666. 

"  Literature  of  the  Wheel,"  058-700. 
A.  B.  C.  of  Bicycling,  655,  67S.  Abridg- 
ment of  Velocipede  Specifications,  550.  Ad- 
vantages of  Cycling,  67S.  Agent's  Guide, 
The,  679,  6S5.  Almanach  des  V^locipMes 
for  '69,  69S.  Almanach  du  Vdlocipide  for 
'70-'7i|  698.  Almanach  Illusir^de  la  Veloci- 
p^dic  pour  '84,  699.  Amateur  Bicycle  Re- 
pairing, 678.     American  Bicycler,  The,  504, 

672,  703.  Annuaire  de  la  Vdlocipidie  Pra- 
tique, 699.  Around  the  World  on  a  Bicycle, 
474»  655,  657,  698.  Athletes,  Training  for 
Amateur,  684.  Athletic  Club  Directory  for 
'82,688.  Australian  Cyclists'  Annual,  The, 
696.  Australian  Tour  on  Cycles,  An,  565, 
696.  Autograph  Book,  Palmer's,  687.  Bet- 
ting I^aw,  Cyclists*  Liabilities  as  regards  the, 
685.  Bicycle  Annual  for  '80,  Tlie,  686,  692. 
Bicycle-Buch,  697.  Bicycle  for  '74,  The,  687. 
Bicycle,  The  Modern,  685.  Bicycle,  A 
Pocket  Manual  of  the,  687.  Bicycle  Primer, 
679.  Bicycle  Ride  from  Russia,  A,  6S7.  Bi- 
cycle Road  Book,  685.  Bicycle  Tactics,  615, 
679.     Bicycle  Tour  in  England  and  Wales,  A, 

673.  Bicycling,  Complete  Guide  10,684.  Bi- 
cyclists' Pocket-Book  and  Diary  for  '78,  687. 
Blank  Road-Rook,  676.  Boston  Road-Book, 
655.  British  Hijjh  Roads,  686.  Bugle  Calls, 
679.     Bundes-AImanach,  697.     Canadian  W. 


A.  Guide,  315-6,  319,  326-7,  330-x,  655,  677. 
Canterbury  Pilgrimage,  A,  530,  655,  687. 
Cape  Ann,  In  and  Around,  655,  674.  Chest- 
nuts (If  ^^//x^'j  Christmas  issue  of  '86), . 

Clipper  Almanac,  494,  680.  Club  Directory, 
Goy's  Athletic,  688.  Club  Songs,  655.  Co- 
lumbia Calendars,  679-80.  Columbia  Testr 
roonials  and  Scrap  Book,  678.  Connecticut 
Road-Book,  5S2,  677.  Construction  of  Mod- 
ern Cycles,  On  the,  683.  Construction  of  the 
Tricycle,  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, 687.  Cycle  Directory, 
The,687.  Cycledom  ( Cyclist*s  Christmas  issue 
of  »86),  xciv.  Cyclist  and  Wheel  World  An- 
nual,  69a.  Cyclists'  Guide  to  Nottingham, 
6S5.  Cyclist's  Guide  to  the  Roads  of  the 
Lake  District  and  Isic  of  Man,  6S7.  Cy- 
clist's Pocket-Book  and  Diary,  685.  Cyclists, 
The  Rights  and  Liabilities  of,  684.  Cyclists' 
Route  Book,  The,  684.  Cyclist's  Touring 
and  Road  Guide,  The,  684,  685.  Cydonia,  A 
Jouniey  through  {CyclisCs  Christmas  issue  of 
'^5)1  534»  692.  Cyclos,  684.  Dublin,  A  Racing 
Trip  to,  xciv.  Emerald  Isle,  Two  Trips  to 
the,  xciv.  England  and  Wales,  A  Bicycle 
Tour  in,  673.  Essai  th^orique  et  pratique  sur 
le  vtfhicule  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//r^'f  Christmas  issue  of  '85),  692.  Guard- 
ians, The,  688.  Guide  to  Bicycling,  The 
Complete,  684.  Guide  to  Machines  and 
Makers,  xcv.       Guide  to  North- West  Kent, 

686.  Guide  to  Tricycling,  Penny,  686.  Hand- 
buch  des  Bicycle-Six>rt,  697.  Health  upon 
Wheels,  684.  He  would  be  a  Bic>'clist,  688. 
Holland,  N.  V.  B.  Official  Road-book  of, 
700.  Holyhead  to  London  on  Tricycles, 
From,  686.  How  to  ride  a  Cycle,  684.  Hotel 
Charges  Directory,  685.  Hygiene  du  V^lod- 
pide.  698.  Icycles  {Wheel  World's  Christ- 
mas  issue  of  '80),  692.  In  and  Around  Cape 
Ann,  655,  674.  Indispensable  Bicyclist's 
Handbook,  The,  685.  I  nstructions  to  Wheel- 
men, 678.  Itiliani,  Statute  della  Sodeta 
Ciclisti,  700.     Italy  on  a  Tricycle,  Through, 

687.  Ireland,  Two  Trips  to, .     Kentucky 

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


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxv 


Mao,  Road  Guide  for  the,  687.  Land's  End 
to  John  0'Groat*s  on  a  Tricycle,  685.  League 
Handbooks,  '81  and  *87,  625,  677.  Legal 
Aspects  of  Road  Repair,  650.  Letters  of  In- 
terest to  Wheelmen,  678.  Library  of  Sports 
(Cycling),  6S5.  Log  Book,  My  Cycling,  676. 
Long  Island  Road- Book,  655.  Liverpool  Cy- 
dists*  Podcet  Guide  and  Club  Directory  for 
'85, 686.  Lyra  Bicyclica,  505, 655,  674.  Man- 
uel da  V^loceman,  698.  Manuel  du  V^loci- 
pMe,  69S.  Massachusetts  State  Division 
Road  Book,  581,  677.  Mechanical  Diction- 
ary, 6SS.  Michigan  Road-book,  677.  Mis- 
souri Handbook,  677.  Modern  Bicycle,  The, 
685.  Modern  Cycles,  On  the  Construction 
o{,  683.  Modern  Velocipede,  The,  688.  My 
Cycling  Friends,  68 7.  My  Cycling  Log  Book, 
670.  My  Second  Ten  Thousand,  an,  501, 
S90,  716.  Nauticus  in  Scotland,  6S4.  Naiiti- 
cns  on  bis  Hobby- Horse,  xctv.  Nervous- 
ness, How  I  Cured  Myself  of,  688.  Notting- 
ham, Cyclists'  Guide  to,  68$.  Official  Hand- 
book of  the  Clubs  of  Essex,  6S7.  Ocean  to 
Ocean  on  a  Bicycle,  From,  xdv.  Ohio  Road- 
Book,677,682.  On  Wheels,  688.  Our  Camp 
(CycUsCs  Christmas  issue  of  '84),  692.  Over- 
land to  Sydney  on  Cycles,  565,  696.  Over  the 
Handles,  673.  Over  the  Pyrenees  on  a  Bicy- 
de,  549,  683.  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,  67S.  Report  of  the  "  Socidt^ 
Pratique  du  ViElocipide  "  for  '69, 698.  Rhine, 
Handbook  for  Wheelmen  along  the,  697. 
Rhymes  of  the  Road  and  River,  655,  674. 
Rights  and  Liabilities  of  Cyclists,  684.  Road 
and  the  Roadside,  llie,  680.  Road  Book  of 
C.  T.  C,  Proposed,  687.  Road  Guide  to  the 
Southern  Counties  of  Scotland,  686.  Road 
Repair,  696.  Roads  of  England  (Cary's),  68 1. 
Roads  of  England  (Howard's),  550,  681-2. 
Roads  of  England  (Patcrson's),  532,  539-40, 

681.  Romances  of  the  Wheel,  6S5.  Rota 
Vitae,  6S5.  Route  Book,  The  Cyclist's,  684. 
Russia,  A  Bicycle  Ride  from,  687.  Safety 
Bicycles,  684.  Scotland,  Cyclist's  Itinerary 
of.  550.  Scotland,  Nauticus  in,  684.  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,  67S.  Ten  Thousand 
Miles  on  a  Bicycle,  45,  48,  353,  370,  426, 
483-4,  655,  701-33.    Theoric  du  VdlocipMe, 

698.  Things  a  Cyclist  Ought  to  Know,  55a 
Tour  de  Monde  en  V^locipMe,  Le,  698. 
Tourists'  Guide,  684.  Tourists,  Rights  and 
Liabilities  of,  685.  Trade  catalogues  and 
advertisements,  653,  679-80.  Training  for 
Amateur  Athletes,  684.  Training  Instructor, 
The,  686.  Tricycle  Annual,  685.  Tricycle 
and  Tricycling,  The,  686.  Tricycle  et  Vdloci- 
pMe  k  Vapeur,  698.  Tricycle,  In  Relation 
to  Health  and  Recreation,  685.  Tricycle, 
Land's  End  to  John  O'Groai's  on  a,  685. 
Tric)'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.  Tricyclisl's  Indispensable 
Annual  &  Handbook,  684.  Tricyclist's  Vade 
Mecum,  The,  686.  Two  Pilgrims*  Progress, 
687.     Vade  Mecum  du  Touriste  V^lciceman, 

699.  Vade  Mecum,  The  Tricyclisl's,  686. 
Vdlocipfede,  Lc,  698.  Velocipede  Specifica- 
tions, Abridgment  of,  550.  Velocipede,  The, 
402,  673.  Velocipede,  The,  688.  Veloci- 
pedes, 688.  Velocipcdia,  688.  Vdlocip^die 
Pratique,  La,  699.  Velocipedislen-Jahrbuch 
for  '84,  697.  Western  Adventures  of  a  Bicy- 
cle Tourist,  489.  Western  New  York  Road- 
Book,  22 r.  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  '8r,  677.  Wheel- 
man's Record  Book,  677.  Wheelman's  Ref- 
erence Book,  615,  655,  67s,  710.  Wheelman's 
Year  Book,  The,  686.  Wheelman's  Year 
Book,  Diary  and  Almanack  for  '82,  687. 
Wheel  Songs,  655, 674.  Wheels  and  Whims, 
655,  674-  Whrel  IVorl^s  Annuals,  "69a. 
Whiriing  Wheels,  673.  Whiaz,  The,  688. 
World  on  Wheels,  The,  680.  Year's  Sport, 
The,  687. 


Ixxvi        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


.  A  HiMartt  compilers,  ^uNishers  andprmtert 
cfth*  foregoing:  K.  Allier,  698.  A.  I*.  At- 
kins, 111,65s,  677.  Ballantyne  Press,  The, 
6S6.   A.  B.  Uarkman,  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,  6S6. 
W.  S.  Bull ,  22 1 ,  677.     J.  P.  Burbank,  16, 673 . 

677.  (Lord)  Bury,  6S7.  Cassell  &  Co.,  687. 
A.  D.  Chandler,  673.  G.  Chin n,  655,677.  J. 
C.  Clark,  679.  R.  Clarke  &  Co.,  678.  W. 
Coliins,  Sou  &  Co.,  683.  R.  Cook,  6S7. 
C.  Cordinghy,  636.  H.  D.  Corey,  679.  E. 
H.  Corson,  655,  671.  H.  L.  Cortis,  684.  T. 
Coventry  &  Co. ,  683.  Cunningham  Co.,  Tlie, 
653,679.  Cupples,  Upham  &  Co.,  655.  J. 
G.  Dalton,  505,  655.  A.  De  BaronccUi,  688, 
69S-9.  W.  Diidarich,  679.  H.  B.  Douly,655, 
677.  Ducker&  Goodman,  615,655, 675.  N. 
F.  Duncan,  687.  Durrant  &  Co.,  687.  G. 
Ernst,  697.  (Miss)  F.  J.  Erskine,  6S4.  U. 
Etheriugton,  685.  Falconer,  686.  A.  Favre, 
698.  S.  C.  Foster,  655,  674, 679,  C.  J.  Fox, 
686.  S.  Fusse.l,  685.  J.  T.  Goddard,  402, 
673,  683.  Goy,  638.  L.  U.  Gill,  683.  H. 
H.  Griffin,  683.  Griffith  &  Farran,  685. 
Hamilton,  Adams  &  Co.,  6S7.  Hammer- 
smith Printing  Works,  686.  £.  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,  63 1. 
C.  Hubbard,  696.     C.   G.  Huntington,  582, 

677.  Iliffe  &  Son,  683-7.  "  Ixion,"  688. 
L.  G.  Jacques,  698.  Jacquot,  699.  Jarrold 
&  Son,  683.  F.  Jenkins,  677.  J.  H.  John- 
son, 677.  F.  W.  Jones,  683-4.  H.  A.  Judd, 
685.  "  Jupiter,"  688.  A.  Kenmann,  6.77. 
H.  KendaU,  686.  T.  J.  Kirkpatrick,  677. 
A.  H.  Lang,  636.  Lee  &  Walker,  679.  V. 
Leger,  699.  J.  Lennox,  686.  Letts,  Son  & 
Co.,  681-2.  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  680.  Long- 
man &  Co.,  687.  J.  N.  McClintock,  680. 
(Mrs.)  F.  T.  McCray,  655,  674.  A.  H.  Mac- 
Owen,  655, 674.  Mason  &  Payne,  68 1-2.  J. 
Menzies  &  Co.,  686.  W.  L.  Mer&hon  & 
Co.,  678.  T.  S.  Miller,  655,  679.  A.  G. 
Morrison,  693.  G.  Moore,  692.  F.  Moore, 
685.     Morris  Bros.,  683.     P.  N.  Myers,  590, 

678.  C.  W.  Nairn,  686,  692.  *•  Nauticus," 
6S4.  E.  Neve,  686.  "  Old  Wheelman,"  67S. 
Overman  Wheel  Co.,  676,  6.'9.    C.  A.  Pal- 


mer, 687.  A.  Palmer  &  Sons,  6S7.  H.  Park, 
678.  J.  Pearce,  6S6.  M.  D.  Pellencontre, 
698.  J.  Peonell,  655,  6S7.  (Mrs.)  £.  R. 
Penneil,  655,  687.  L.  G.  Perreaux,  698. 
G.  Phillip  &  Son,  683.  R.  E.  PhiLipt,  550, 
639}  6S3.  Pops  Manufaauring  Co.,  678^ 
L.  H.  Porter,  530,  678.  B.  W.  Potter,  68a 
Qiarles  E.  Pratt,  504,  67a.  678,  688,  703. 
F.  A.  Pratt,  625,  678.  "Ras  Banks,"  68& 
Rand,  Avery  &  Co.,  674.  J.  M.  Rankioe, 
698.  F.  Rsgamey,  69S.  H.  R.  Reynolds, 
jr.*  533.  69S.  Richard,  698.  C.  M.  Rich- 
ards, 678.  B.  W.  Richardson,  62, 685.  Rob- 
erts Bros.,  687.  Rockwell  &  Churchill,  656* 
672,  679.  Root  &  Tinker,  680.  Will  Rose, 
489.  H.  T.  Round,  687.  J.  P.  Russell,  696L 
H.  N.  Sawyer,  679.  C.  Scribner's  Soos, 
655,  687.  Seeley  &  Co.,  6S7.  E.  M.  Sen- 
seney,  677.  J.  C  Sharp,  jr.,  673.  E.  R- 
Shipton,  687.  .W.  S.  Y.  Shutlleworth,  687. 
V.  Silbsrer,  697.  (Miss)  E.  L.  Smith,  655, 
674.  I.  Snow  &  Co.,  687.  C.  Spsncsr,  685, 
687.  Springfield  Printing  Co.,  675, 710.  W. 
J.  Spurrier,  684,685.  W.  G.  Stables,  6S4.  T. 
Stevens,  473-84,  655,  657.  Stoddard,  Lover- 
ing  &  Co.,  679.  Strand  Pub.  Co.,  6S3.  H. 
Sturmey,  684,  6S5.  G.  B.  Thayer,  576. 
"  Velox,"  688.  T.  H.  S.  Walker,  651,  697. 
F.  Wamc  &  Co.,  685.  J.  S.  Webber,  jr.. 
655.  674.  W.  D.  Welford,  687.  F.  W.  We». 
ton,  676.  "  Chris  Wheeler,"  655.  674.  W. 
H.  Wheeler,  650.  White,  Stokes  &  Allen, 
655.  674.  C.  H.  Whiting,  676.  J.  Wilkin- 
son Co.,  The,  677.  A.  Williams  &  Co.,  673. 
J.  A.  Williamson,  6S4.  A.  J.  Wilson,  534, 
693.  H.  S.  Wood,  177, 676-7.  T.  H.  Wrighi, 
677.  A.  Young,  65s,  6/9.  G.  £.  Young, 
686. 

NoN-CYcuNG  Books. 

Adirondacks,  Illustrated  Guide  to  the,  186. 
American  Literature,  Cyclopaedia  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 
Summw  Islands,  366.  Bermuda,  History  of, 
355-  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. 


Ixxvii 


Handbook  of,  1x3.  Campaigns  of  tho  Civil 
War,  35a.  Cecil  Dreeme,  4a8-9j  43  >>  438^1 
441.  Cindnoati,  Pocket  Book  of,  1 13.  Col- 
kfe  Journalism,  A  History  of,  658.  Conn. 
Valley  in  Mass.,  Hist,  of  the,  581.  De- 
scriptiTe  America,  177.  Diseases  of  Modern 
Life,  6S5.  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  6SS. 
FieU  Book  of  the  American  Revolution, 
TOOi.  Field  Book  of  the  War  of  1S12,  700. 
Foot  Years  at  Yale,  405,  711,  722.  Geologist 
of  New  Jersey,  Report  for  'iJ4  of  the  State, 
174.  Grafton  County  Gazetteer,  577.  Grant's 
Memoirs,  73a.  Harvard  and  its  Snrround- 
ings,  113.  How  to  Pay  Church  Debts,  333. 
Hudson  River  by  Pen  and  Pencil,  19S. 
Human  Intercourse,  446,  468-9.  Hunting 
Trips  of  a  Ranchman,  455.  Intellectnal  Life, 
The,  467-S.  Lake  George,  lUust.  Guide  to, 
185-6.  Liberty,  Equality,  Fraternity,  733. 
London  Social  Life,  Impresuons  of,  448. 
Lotberan  Year  Book,  323.  Maritime  Prov- 
mces.  The,  293.  Methodist  Year  Book,  324. 
Middle  States,  Guide  to,  293.  Minute  Phi- 
losopher, 108.  Modern  Gymnast,  The,  6S5. 
Moosehead  Lake  and  N.  Me.  Wilderness, 
S7S.  Mt  Desert  on  the  Coast  of  Me.,  2S1. 
Navy  in  the  Civil  War,  The,  352.  New 
England,  Guide  to,  293.  New  York,  Dic- 
tionary of,  65,  Sr,  87,  89,  96,  100,  155.  New 
York,  Hist,  of  the  City  of,  434.  Notes  of  an 
Idle  Excursion,  356.  Open  Letter  to  J.  G. 
Holland,  An,  728.  Picturesque  America,  382, 
434,  70a  Picturesque  B.  &  O.,  245,  282. 
Religion,  My,  729.  Roughing  It,  iv.  Sara- 
toga, lUust.  Guide  to,  186.  Shenandoah  Val- 
ley in  1864,  346,  3S2.  Split  Zephyr,  466. 
Sprixigfield,  Handbook  of,  1x3,  126.  Stolen 
White  Elephant,  356.  Stories  by  American 
Authors,  466.  Tasmanian  Excursionist's 
Guide,  563.  Their  Wedding  Journey,  215, 
42&  Thankless  Muse,  The,  73  r.  Traveler, 
The,  iv.  U.  S.  Army  Table  of  Distances, 
680.  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  205.  Visits  to  Re- 
markable Places,  404.  Yale  and  the  City  of 
Elni**>33>  Yale,  Four  Years  at,  405,  71  r,  722. 
Walktng  Guide  to  Mt.  Washington  Range, 
577.  Washington  Square,  432.  Western 
MasB.,  Hist,  of,  581.  White  Mtn.  Guides, 
>93i  S77-  Winthrop,  Life  and  Poems  of  Theo- 
dore. 439.  „ 

NoN-cvcuMG  Authors. 

T.  B.  AMrich,  431.    D.  Ammen,  352.    O. 
Arnold,   15,  309,  yaS.    E.  M.  Bacon,    113. 


H.  A.  Beers,  466,  7or.  S.  G.  W.  Benjamin, 
355»  483.  W.  H.  Bishop,  431,  72S.  C.  A. 
Bristed,  727-8.  L.  P.  Brockett,  177.  C.  W. 
Bryan,  700.     W.   C.  Bryant,  216,  700.     O. 

B.  Bunce,  700.  H.  C.  Bunner,  727.  C.  S. 
Calverley,  34.  A.  Gary,  73 r.  H.  Child,  577. 
M.  H.  Cist,  352.  P.  Clarke,  570.  G.  H. 
Cook,  r74.  J.  F.  Cowan,  324.  W.  Cowper, 
406.  J.  D.  Cox,  352.  W.  Decrow,  133.  D. 
Defoe,  V.  C.  Dickens,  354,  466,  724.  J.  C. 
R.  Dorr,  366.  A.  Doubleday,  352.  E.  A. 
Duyckinck,  434,  439.  T.  Dwight,  127.  S.  C. 
Eastman,  577.  R.  W.  Emerson,  721,  732. 
L.  H.  Everts,  581.  C.  A.  J.  Farrar,  575.  M, 
F.  Force,  352.  B.  Franklin,  702.  Godet,  355. 
O.  Goldsmith,  iv.,  205.  U.  S.  Grant,  732. 
F.  V.  Greene,  352.  M.  Hale,  731.  P.  G. 
Hamerton,  446,  46S-9.  J.  C.  Harris,  v., 
24,  380.  R.  Herrick,  472.  J.  G.  Holland, 
581,  728.  W.  D.  Howells,  315,  428.  W. 
Howttt,  404.  A.  A.  Humphreys,  352.  H. 
H.  Jackson,  304.  H.  James,  432.  S.  John- 
son, 408,  427,  436,  755.  F.  Kemble,  72S. 
M.  King,  1x3,  X26.  M.  J.  Lamb,  434.  A. 
Lang,  722.  H.  W.  Longfellow,  430.  B.  J. 
Lossing,  700.  J.  F.  McClure,  658.  A.  T. 
Mahan,  352.  C.  B.  Martin,  281.  J.  A. 
Moore,729.  E.  S.  Nadal,  448.  F.  J.  O'Brien, 
391.  F.  W.  Palfrey,  352,  386-  J-  G.  Pang- 
bom,  245.  T.  L.  Peacock,  23.  T.  Percy, 
65,  81,  87,  89,  96,  100,  155,  198,  43X.  W.  H. 
Pickering,  577.  G.  E.  Pond,  346.  B.  W. 
Richardson,  685.  J.  C.  Ropes,  352.  E.  R. 
Sill,  vi.  J.  R.  Soley,  352.  S.  Stall,  323. 
J.  H.  Stark,  366.  J.  F.  Stephen,  733.  T. 
Stevens,  474.  S.  R.  Stoddard,  185-6.  M.  F. 
Sweetser,  293,  577.  L.  Tolstoi,  729.  I. 
Turgeneff,  728.     M.  Twain,   iv.,  356,  640. 

C.  D.  Warner,  286-7.  A.  S.  Webb,  352.  H. 
Willonghby,  570.  T.  Winthrop,  428-9,431, 
438-9,  44  X.    J.  D.  Woodward,  198. 

N ON-CYCLING  Journals. 
Advertiser,  Boston,  113.  Advertiser,  Calais, 
Me.,  263-4.  Argus,  Melbourne,  570.  Army 
&  Navy  Journal,  N.  Y.,  346.  Atlantic 
Monthly,  Boston,  430.  Australasian,  N.  Y., 
570.  Bat,  London,  650.  Bulletin,  Mel- 
bourne, 558,  652.  Cape  Ann  Advertiser, 
Ms.,  674.  Catskill  Mtn.  Breeze,  N.  Y., 
198.  Century  Magazine,  N.  Y.,  483,  687. 
Chronide,  Moorestown,  N.  J.,  178.  Chroni- 
cle, San  Francisco,  431.    Christian  at  Work, 


Ixxviii     TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


N.  Y.,  658.  Church  of  Ireland  Temperance 
Visitor,  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- 
erct,  520.  Examiner,  London,  551,  711.  Ex- 
press, Buff.ilo,  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, 242.  Harper's  Weekly, 
N.  Y.,  390-1, 402-4, 475,  483.  Harper's  Young 
People,  N.  Y.,615.  Herald,  Auckland,  567. 
Herald,  Boston,  114.  Herald,  N.  Y.,  499> 
583.  657-  Herald,  Rochester,  216.  Herald 
&  News,  W.  Randolph,  Vt.,  672.  Journal, 
London,  Ont.,  669.  Journal  &  Courier,  New 
Haven,  39S,  401.  Knickerbocker  Magazine, 
N.  Y.,  216.  Knox  Student,  Galesburg,  658. 
Lake  George  Ripple,  N.  Y.,  198.  Lippin- 
cott's  Magazine,  Phila.,  i,  i63,  658,  70a. 
Manufacturer's  Gazette,  Boston,  525.  Mes- 
senger, Marbhhead,  Ms.,  a8i.  Massachu- 
setts Magazine,  Boston,  680.  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.,  56'>,  696.  Norfolk  Reformer,  Simcoe, 
Ont,,  33 r,  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. 
Post-Dispatch,  St.  Louis,  528.  Press,  Phila- 
delphia, 454.  Puck,  N.  Y.,  15,  36,  246,  409, 
499,  669,  673.  Record,  Phila.,  627.  Refor- 
mer, Bennington,  Vi.,  627.  Republican, 
Lansing,  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  Jonmal,  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  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.,  489.  Transcript,  Port- 
land, 257,  627.  Tribune,  Cambridge,  657. 
Tribune,  Chicago,  323.  Tribune,  N.  Y., 
499i  597*  724,  72  7'  Union,  Springfield,  Ms., 
580.  University  Quarterly,  N.  Y.,  469.  Van- 
ity Fair,  N.  Y.,  444.  Yale  Courant,  New 
Haven,  398.  Yale  Literary  Ma(*azine,  New 
Haven,  399-402.  World,  N.  Y.,  584,  730-1, 
7*3- 

BiCYCLSS. 

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, 
Sao,  543.  545.  559.  S'^'.  569.  Carver.  503. 
Centaur,  523.  Challenge,  330,  537.  Club, 
505,  508,  523,  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.  ^n^  244,  3S8,  474, 
484,492,503,  506,508,510-11,  513,  517,519-20, 
523-30, 575-^,  578-  Columbia  Light  Roadster, 
527-9.  "  Columbia,  Number  234,"  35-^8, 
86.  Columbia  Special,  503,  507-8,  51  r,  520, 
521.  Columbia  Standard,  48,  59,  183,  244, 
37S,  474,  4^4.  488-9,  494,  500,  503.  508,  5«», 
5»3,  5 '5.  519.  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, 4S7,  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,  542. 
Howe,  552.  Humber,  509,  516,  517,  524, 542. 
Ideal,  493.  Interchangeable,  546.  Invinci- 
ble, 517,  559.  Ivel  Safety,  557-8.  John 
Bull,  507.  Kangaroo,  508-9.  Keen,  547. 
Lynn  Express,  537.  Matchless,  50S,  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,  5o»-2,  S»«i  523,  526,  565.657-60, 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxix 


«♦»  7tt»-3.  7"-«3»  799-  Premier,  327,  519, 
5*9.  5S9f  S«» » f  5^-  President,  49*  •  R •  &  P. , 
657.  Regent,  540,  Rover  Safety,  535,  545. 
Royal  Mail,  508,  527.  Ruckcr,  509,  530, 
5i6,  542,  543-  Rudge,  laS,  139,  183,  32'. 
joo,  soS-10,  6S9.  Rudge  Light  Roadster,  388, 
5o8»  5«3»  526.  S^Ji  5^7i  578,  679.  Rudge 
Safety,  537.  Safety,  505.  Safety  (King),  672. 
St.  Nicholas,  524.  Sandringham,  538.  Sans- 
pareil,  324,  50S-9,  520,  524-5,  530.  Shadow, 
50S.  Singer,  348,  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,  269-71, 
t74,  320,  508,  520.1,  525,  530.  549,  575.  577- 
Union,  508.  Velocity,  50S.  Victor,  487,  493, 
S08,  516,  519,  524-5»  527. 676.  Xlra,  348,  505- 
Yale,  508,  509,  516,  519,  530. 

Tricyclbs, 
Beeston  Humbsr,  557-S,  58S.  Carver,  535. 
Centaur  Tandem,  535.  Challenge,  686. 
Cheylcsmore  Qub,  562,  565-6.  Cheylesmore 
Sociable,  589.  Club  Racer,  535.  Qub  So- 
ciable, 535.  Columbia,  503,  508,  509,  511, 
528.  Coventry  Convertible,  517.  Coventry 
Rotary,  513,  686.  Crescent,  526.  Cripper, 
517,  526,  552,  554.  Dearlc^ve,  543.  Diana, 
686.  Excelsior,  503,  569.  H umber,  509,  530, 
535»  543,  54*^.  55 «»  554-6,  686.  Humber  Tan- 
dim.  509.  Imperial  Club,  535,  554.  Invin- 
cible. 517.  National,  511.  Omnicyde,  686. 
Premier,  524,  686.  Qiuidrant,  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* 535-  Tandem,  535.  Traveller,  509, 
526.     Victor,  50S,  50J,  526. 

AtrrOBIOGRAPHIC  AND  PSRSONAL. 

Ancestry,  722-3.  Appointments  for  wheel- 
ing, 730.  Authorship,  iv.,  405,  722-3.  Aver- 
age roan  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.  Class  poet 
and  historian,  39a,  401.  Collector  of  post- 
age-stamps, 722.     "Coll.  Chron."  of  Worlds 


730,  723.  Companionship  the  highest  hap- 
piness, 467.  Compensations  of  a  quiet  life, 
467,  731.  Conceit,  732.  Costume  for  riding, 
x6-22.  Death,  380,  733.  Deviation  in  career, 
c:iuscd  by  cycling,  406.  Digging  my  way  out 
to  freedom,  725.  Disclaimers :  as  to  ambiiion, 
309f  733;  athleticism,  iv. ;  boastfuliiess,  v., 
5S2 ;  college  honors  and  prizes,  722 ;  competi- 
tion, v.,  484,  721-3;  egotism,  v.,  vii.;  envy, 
V-,  393,  47i>  722,  730;  fame,  309;  hemiit-iife, 
467;  hero-worship,  464;  literary  skill,  iv., 
716;  notoriety,  vii.,  281,  729;  ostentation, 
729,  733 ;  partisanship,  726 ;  prais?,  vi. ;  van- 
ity, v.,  701,  716,  732.  Dislike  for  "literary 
men  ''  and  "  athletes,"  iv. ;  for  "  medicine- 
men," 62.  Divertissemtnt  as  the  permanent 
element  of  life,  722.  Early  days  with  "  Curl," 
407-251  471*  Editor  of  college  magazine, 
392-31  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.  Govemmsnt  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- 
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,  IndifF>:rence 
to,  iv.,  728.  Literary  ideal.  Simplicity  of,  iv. 
London  life,  405-6,  427,  471.  Longevity, 
Chances  of,  723,  732.  Lost  inheritanc.*,  r^'o. 
Marriage,  472,  723,  731.  Mechanical  aptitvtde, 
Lack  of,  36,  713.  Middle-age,  44,  294.  Mind 
and  character,  732.  Money-making  capacity, 
vi.,  392,  720,  725.  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.  Ol>8ervalion  of 
prominent  people,  "out  of  harnes.s,"  727. 
Optimism,  731,  Overwork,  Attempts  to  es- 
cape, 720,  725.     Personal  revelations  a  busi- 


Ixxx 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


ness-necessity,  vii.  "  Phflately,"  A  writer 
on,  732-3.  Physique,  v.,  59,  61,  62,  153,  294, 
307.  Political  prejudices,  736.  Portrait  never 
"exchanged,"  aSo.  Preference  for  small 
tasks,  723.  Pride,  732.  Procrastination  pre- 
vents English  tour,  406.  Publisher,  Pay  as 
^1  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,  6t.  Sar- 
casms of  destiny,  724-5.  Self-reliance,  722. 
Slowness,  iv.,  731.  Snapper-up  of  uncon- 
sidered trifles,  Asa,  v.,  716.  "Solidarity" 
with  Stevens,  484.  Solitude  in  the  U.  B., 
Experiences  of,  463.  Spectator  of  society. 
As  a,  467,  722,  72S-9,  731.  Sports  of  child- 
hood, with  "  Curl,"  413-21.  Statistical  show- 
ing of  my  personal  part  in  the  book,  xx. 
Steadfastness,  725.  Subscript  ion -solicitor  as 
undergraduate,  392.  Suspension  from  col- 
lege, 392,  404.  Swimming,  61.  "  Thirtieth 
Street  "  reminiscences,  452.  Touring,  Equip- 
ment for,  16-22 ;  Leisure  gained  for,  720. 
Travels  in  Europe,  405-6.  Two  exploits 
I  should  have  been  proud  of,  464.  Two  sol- 
diers whom  I  admired,  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,  IVorld 
work  as  college  chronicler,  720-1.  Yale, 
Book  about,  405,  711,  722.  Vale  graduate, 
Biography  as  a,  732.  Yankee  from  Yankee- 
ville,  A  thoroughbred,  36,  722-3.  Yale  men 
in  New  York,  Directory  of,  464. 

Whebung  Autobioc;raphy. 
Analysis  of  234  rides,  49-63.  Ankle  sprained, 
241.  Bathing,  61.  Bed-bugs  in  MaryLind,  239. 
Bermuda  trip  forces  U.  S.  Government  to 
class  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, 
S».  5^.  23?  Cold  weather,  246-54, 298-9,  342. 
Cramps,  59,  363.    Cyclometer*,  Experiences 


with  (Butcher),  147,  374,  378  ;  (McDonnelT). 
248 ;  (Pope),  24,  26, 47,  5S2  ;  oflFer  to  test,  714, 
Daily  riding  averages,  49.  Drinking,  54,  6a, 
516.  Eating,  61.  Elbow  broken  by  first  fall 
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.  Firsc 
trial  of  a  bicycle,  in  '79,  156.  Food,  6i,  313, 
36a.  Foot,  Injury  to,  306,  Fording,  22S,  24  «, 
375.  378-8«.  383-  Headers,  55,  238,  273.  363, 
373.  Hill  climbing,  53,  58,  272  (71  corrected, 
582).  Hotel  mi.series,  13,  150,  205,  309,  227, 
229,230,  241,  326,  338.  Hundred-mile  run, 
312.  League  founded  in  my  honor,  24;  my 
business-stake  in  its  success,  720.  Leisure 
for  touring.  How  gained,  720.  Longest 
tour.  Inspiration  of  my,  295.  Long  stays  in 
saddle,  52-53,  122,  313,  343.  Malarial  sweats 
cured  by  riding,  294-5,  308.  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,  228,  349,  373. 
Night-riding,  56,  205,  2^7,  240,  241,  248,  252, 
298»  3«»i3»3.  318,  336,  338,  344.  360,  377. 
Objections  to  bags,  17;  bells,  iS,  22,  55; 
belts,  18,  22  ;  crdwds,  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  aU,  380.  Railroad  mileage  summary, 
31,  33.  Road-riding  summaries,  1879- '82, 
26-31,  49-51.  Race,  My  only,  362.  Rainy 
rides,  228,  262,  283,  29S,  304-5,  380.  Risks. 
53,  »53,  362,  380.  Saddle-soreness,  307.  Sea 
voyages,  282,  392,  358,  363.  Size  of  wheel. 
Preference  as  to  small,  59-61.  Snow-storms, 
351,  298,  342.  Statistics  of  mileage  com- 
pared, 31,  296,  317,  384,  388.  Sunstroke  in- 
vited on  Long  Island,  54,  153.  Thefts,  57. 
Tliunder-storm,  Descent  of  the  Blue  Ridge  in 
a,  380.  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  18S3,  300,  532,  549,  551. 


hXDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


lyYYi 


This  Book  of  Mine,  701-733. 
Advertisements  excluded,  as  a  pledge  of 
impartiality,  714,  719.  Amusement  and  in- 
struction for  uoo-cyders,  iv.  Autobiography 
between  the  lines.  An,  vi.  Autograph  edi- 
tion, Signing  3368  fly-leaves  for  the,  vi.,  710. 
BL  IVariifs  cold  shoulder  for  the  scheme, 
604.  Bookselling  against  trade-precedent, 
▼ii.  Boston's  notions  contrasted  with  New 
Yoric*s,  70S.  Bull-dog  as  an  inspiration,  703. 
Business  basis  of  good-will,  vi.,  vii.,  701,  714, 
716,  720,  732.  Circulars  and  specimen  chap- 
ters, 704-9.  Collegians  not  attracted,  708-9. 
Columbia  bicycles.  Incidental  adv.  of,  712-3. 
Comparison  of  my  scheme  to  Stevens's  round- 
the-fi'orld  tour,  483.  Complimentary  copies 
for  subscribing  editors,  711.  Conception,  vi., 
702.  Contents-table,  ix.-xx.  Contract  with 
Springfield  Printing  Co.,  707,  710.  Copartner- 
ship with  3000  advance  subscribers,  vii.,  701, 
714,  732.  Corrections  from  authors  and  pub- 
lishers, 71S.  Coftts  of  road-book  making  in 
general,  715.  Criticisms  invited,  715,  719. 
Curiosity  of  literature.  As  a,  vi.,  469.  Dates 
of  publication  hoped  for,  705,  707,  709-10. 
D^ication,  ii.  Delays  and  interruptions, 
733-6.  Egotism  as  a  business-necessity,  v., 
vi.,  701.  Electroiyping,  573,  590,  707,  710,  ix.- 
xx.  English  subs.,  Attraction  of,  706,  709. 
Enthusiasm  immortalized  by  the  subscription- 
list,  vi.,  4S4.  EnthuMasm  of  private  canvass- 
ers, 705,  709.  Estimates  of  cost  and  chances, 
703-71  712,  732.  Estimates  of  number  of 
words,  XX.  "Free  advertisement  "  begrudged 
at  Boston,  704;  but  cheerfully  offered  at  all 
other  places,  705-9;  given  by  my  book  to 
every  one,  714 ;  objections  analyzed,  718 ;  re- 
sulting from  censure,  719 ;  sneers  at,  484, 671 ; 
trade  advantage  of,  653.  Geographical  range 
of  my  subscribers,  vii.,  xx.  Gift-taking,  Ob- 
jections to,  712-14.  Hotels  and  libraries.  Sell- 
ing the  book  to,  714.  Impartiality  shown  by 
exclusion  of  advertisements,  714.  Independ- 
ence of  all  Popes  and  powers,  713.  Indexing, 
My  ideal  of,  as  a  final  cause,  viii.,  702.  In- 
spiriog  causes,  673,  702-3.  Last  apologies  for 
the  latest*written  chapter,  573,  590.  Literary 
ideal.  Simplicity  of,  iv.,  474.  London  cycling 
press.  Treatment  by,  695.  Mailing  of  books 
from  Springfield,  712,  714,  799.  Manufact- 
aring.  Contract  for,  707,  710.  Misprint  of 
"|i. 50'*  for  "^,"73*,  734,  799-  Money- 
making,  Chance  of,  vi.,  7011  73a.    Opinions 


of  subscribers  wanted,  714-5.  Pay  wanted  for 
publishing,   715.     Political    interruption.  A, 

726.  Pope  Mfg.  Co.'s  offers  of  support,  703, 
711-13.  Predictions  of  failure,  704,  706,  711. 
Preface,  iii.-viii.  Press,  Treatment  by  the, 
704-9,  718.  Price  misprinted  at  "  $1.50  "  in- 
stead of  "$a,"  732,  734,  799.  Printing, 
Progress  of,  710.  Proof-reading,  viii.,  710-11. 
Prospectus  (Dec.  3,  '83),  704,  (May  8,  '84) 
705.  Puffery  as  distinguished  from  advertis- 
ing, 718,  Reciprocation  asked  for,  718,  720. 
Reviewers,  Suggestions  to,  viii.  Scientific 
and  unobtrusive  egotism,  v.  Scope  defined, 
ii.  Special  ed.  of  200  on  heavy  paper,  710. 
Springfield  Printing  Co.,  707,  710-12.  Sub- 
scription-list, Growth  of,  xix.,  704-9;  signifi- 
cance of,  as  a  monument  of  sympathy,  vi. 
"  Ten  Thousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle,"  45, 
4^  28 »,  35»,  372,  381,  383,  388,  469,  483-4, 
<^S5»  702.  Tradesmen,  Indifference  of,  709, 
71a  ;  reasons  why  they  should  freely  advertise 
and  help  its  sale,  653.  Type,  Preferences  as 
to  size  of,  vii.,  716-17.  Undergraduates  un- 
interested, 708-9.  Unpaid  agents  as  book-sell- 
ers, vii.  Warnings  for  the  "  general  reader," 
iii.  IVkeePs  liberal  support,  704-5,  707-8. 
Wheeling  and  WheelmerCs  Gazette  give  aid, 
706-9.  Words,  Estimated  number  of,  xx. 
Working  the  outside  press,  708.  "X.  M. 
Miles  "  as  a  title,  704. 

Philosophical  and  Sociai^ 
Affectations  of  society,  468.  Affection  and 
sympathy  in  cycling,  14,  729.  Appearances, 
The  cost  of,  729 ;  deceitf ulness  of,  408 ;  keep- 
ing up  of,  in  England,  446.  Aristocracy, 
396-7,  448-9-  Bachelors'  chambers,  440-2, 
455-6.  Bashfulness  a  form  of  vanity,  50a. 
Birthdays,  502.  Boastfulness,  502.  Bohe- 
mianism,  469.  Bores,  5,  309,  454,  471,  731-a. 
"  Boy-like  "  a  better  adjective  than  "  boy- 
ish," 14.  Buildings,  Lack  of  individuality 
in,  426;  human-like  changes  in,  430.  Cen- 
sure inspires  curiosity,  719.  Character  a 
growth,  426  ;  estimates  of,  631.  Childhood's 
egotism  charming,.  732.  Class  enthusiasm  at 
college,  391.  Clothes,  16.  Collegiate  finances. 
Proper  management  of,  437.  Colorlessness 
of  "  society  people,"  447-3, 455,  Companion- 
ship, The  cost  of,  255.  Compensations,  The 
law  of,  309,  731.  Concierge  as  autocrat  of 
Paris,  The,  458.    Condescension  in  thi  clergy, 

727.  Conformity,  The  Yoke  of,  443-4,  448, 


Ixxxii       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


454.  Contempt  best  shown  by  silence,  596. 
Courage,  Suggestions  about,  725.  Custom 
u  Juggernaut,  444.  Danger  as  a  fascination, 
380.  Death,  The  fear  of,  468  ;  the  mystery 
of,  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 
of.  iSi  309.  439,  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,  386 ;  for  peace,  466.  Freedom, 
The  charm  of,  255,  280,  462,  466 ;  the  costs 
of,  444,  468;  the  ideal  home  of,  428,  472. 
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, 
391.  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,  The, 
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 ,  47*.  73  '•  Lying,  6,  *o,  397,  733- 
Matrimonial  ideals,  442.  Memory,  Fallibil- 
ity of,  391,  399,  404.  Mental  liberty,  454, 
468-9,  47a.  "  Money  "  a  universal  language, 
284,  701.  Motto  for  an  honorable  life,  6S0. 
Negroep*  behavior  at  Bermuda,  364.  Origin- 
ality, French  hatred  of,  468.  Ostentation, 
467,  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,  468.  Repute  and  reality,  jA.  Rich 
and  poor,  630,  720,  729.  Rivalries  of  men 
and  women  contrasted,  721 ;  of  Western 
cities,  436.  Savage,  Suggestions  of  the,  6r, 
62, 295, 309,  454-5, 466-9,  731.  Sectarian  con- 
trol of  colleges,  435.  Self -absorption.  An- 
tidotes for,  466.  Self-confidence,  Rarity  of, 
448-9.  Self-suppression  in  London  and  New 
York,  427,  447.  Servitude  to  servants  (in 
America),  449-5°  \  (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,  7, 34, 255,  406, 432,  454-6, 467-9 1  solace  for, 
14 ;  terror  of  to  evil-doers,  44?  *,  test  of  char- 
acter, 462.  Sophistry  as  a  lawyer's  main- 
stay, 724.  Sport's  highest  function,  739. 
Superstitions,  409,  413,  430,  463.  Sympathy 
in  a  common  hobby,  vi.,  5.  Theatrical  life 
defined  by  Fanny  Kemble,  728.  Thieves* 
shrewdness,  441.  Tonic  quality  in  hard  work, 
309,  468.  Travel,  Advantages  of  foreign, 
a,  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,  aSo; 
melancholy  tokens  of  at  Mammoth  Cave, 
381 ;  density  of  in  "  social  leaders,"  455 ; 
solitude  as  a  deliverance  from,  468 ;  shown  by 
bashfulness,  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,  1 5, 396, 453, 
469.  Whims,  Distinction  between  positive 
and  negative,  28  r.  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, 
472  ;  its  pricelessneas  proclaimed  by  the 
hopeless  longing  of  Turgeneff,  728. 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Ixxxiii 


Incidbnts  AKD  ACaOBNTS. 
Ankle  sprained  on  the  tow-path,  56, 
»4i.  Bad  boy  at  Port  Chester,  54.  Be- 
nighted in  Virginia  mud,  375.  Boston 
mfiianism  at  lantern-parade,  371.  Canal 
"coolers,"  340.  Clothes  rent,  307.  Col- 
lisions, 55,  733,  529.  Crossing  an  engine- 
hose,  516.  Descending  the  Blue  Ridge  in 
a  thunder-storm,  380.  Dog-bite  at  Yonkers, 
18.  Dog  carried  on  tricycle  by  Australian 
toorist,  565.  Elbow-breaking  of  my  ear- 
liest ride,  24,  62,  307.  Englishmen's  mis- 
haps, 539-40.  Falls  and  breakage  of  bicy- 
cl*!  37-40t  54.  306-7.  Fleeing  from  the 
customs  officers,  575.  Ford-crossing  in  a 
fanner's  cart,  378,  3S3.  Fording  the  rivers 
in  New  Zealand,  56S.  Forgetful  inn-keeper, 
The,  3 18.  Hard  luck  at  Bagg's  Hotel,  209. 
Headers  of  the  Down-East  party,  260,  276 ; 
of  T.  Stevens,  475,  478,  480.  Horses,  en- 
counters wiih,  57,  226,  321,  395-8.  Immu- 
nity from  accidents,  507,  511,  532,  537,  545, 
547, 585.  Insolence  of  hotel-clerk  rebuked, 
338.  Jumping  on  a  nail,  306.  Lantern 
parade  interrupted,  371.  Mules  scared  on 
ihe  Ene  tow-path,  9,  199, 208.  Mules  scare 
me  on  the  D.  &  H.  path,  44,  340.  Nar- 
row escapes  :  from  a  drunken  man's  whip, 
at  Springfield,  57  ;  from  runaway  mules  at 
Honesdale,  45 ;  from  a  recklessly-driven 
horse  at  Somerville,  733  ;  from  sunstroke, 
on  the  "  hottest  day  of  eleven  years,"  54, 
153.  Pilfering,  57.  Pocket-book  lost  and 
restored,  150.  Prospect  Park  fatality,  586. 
Racing  for  the  homeward  steamer,  362. 
Rattlesnake  bite  in  Nebraska,  478.  Road- 
race  interrupted  by  frightened  mare,  321. 
Stevens  (T.)  in  Afghanistan,  571 ;  at  An- 
gora, 48a ;  in  a  Persian  snow-storm,  570; 
mobbed  in  China,  572.  Talks  with  specta- 
tors of  the  Bull  Run  battles,  375.  Upset 
by  bad  boy  of  Port  Chester,  54. 

WoMKJf. 

Acquaintances  alluded  to,  136,  410, 
433,  4^,  450,  453,  731.  Adulation  of 
the  dergy,  737.  Mrs.  Allen's  long  tri- 
cycle ride.  554.  "Amaryllis,"  44a.  Amen- 
can  iodal  tjrpeSt  449'  Australian  tricycle 
toarists,  56a.  Mrs.  President  Bates,  505. 
Miss  Brock's  sketch  of  Wcyer's  cave,  382. 
Gary  nsters,  731.  "  Cecil  Dreeme,"  438-9, 
44('    Chance  to  learn  tricyding  at  Orange, 


588.  Characters  in  H.  James's  novel, 
"  Washington  Square,"  43a.  Charmers  of 
Calais,  The,  266.  Citizenesses  of  Machias, 
27a.  Condexge's  wife,  458.  Countess  de 
Castiglione's  vanity,  a8o.  Mrs.  J.  C.  R. 
Dorr's  "  Bermudian  Days,"  366-7.  Miss 
Erskine's  book  on  "  Tricycling  for  ladies," 
684.  Fifth  Avenue  residents,  453.  Girl- 
graduates  in  Kentucky,  23a.  Hatred  of 
each  other,  721.  Hotel  life,  450.  H.  H.'s 
definition  of  triumph,  304.  Inquisitiveness, 
302.  "  Isabel's"  notions,  216,  447.  Mrs. 
Kemble's  opinion  of  theatrical  life,  728. 
Mrs.  M,  J.  Lamb's  "  Hist,  of  N.  Y.  City," 
433-  Mrs.  F.  T.  McCray's  cycling  novel, 
655.  675.  "  M'd'lle  des  Mollets,"  429, 439. 
Maidens  of  college  days,  136.  Mammoth 
Cave,  Suggested  troubles  at,  383.  Mat- 
rons' conversation,  450.  Mrs.  C.  B.  Mar- 
tin's book  of  Mt.  Desert,  281.  Matrimo- 
nial allusions,  280,  410,  472,  731.  Mem- 
bers of  C.  T.  C,  638.  Mistresses  and 
wives,  442-4.  Mileage  records,  528,  530, 
543.  554,  562.  Newspaper  gossip,  a8i. 
Novel  of  tricyding,  655,  675.  Orange 
Wanderers,  530.  Mrs.  PenneQ's  tricycling 
tours,  530,  655,  687.  Queen  Victoria,  471. 
Mrs.  Radcliffe's  novels,  430.  Rarity  of 
"character,"  426.  Reproaches  from,  on 
tow-path  and  sidewalk ,  9,  1 1.  Rivalry,  72 1 . 
"  Rosalind,"  439.  Miss  E.  L.  Smith's 
cycling  novel,  655,  675.  Miss  Sylvester, 
"  bicyclienne,"  530.  "  Sweet  Singer  of 
Mich.,"  Quotation  from  the,  729.  Timid- 
ity of,  in  horse-driving,  10, 3 13.  Tricyclers, 
517.  5»9.  52I1  5»3,  S«4,  528.  530.  534.  54«, 
564.  "Tricycling  for  Ladies,"  Miss  Ers- 
kine's  book  on,  684.  Tricycling  tours, 
Mrs.  Pennell's,  530,  655,  687.  Servant- 
girls'  dread  of  the  U.  B.,  431,  440;  modes 
of  ruling  their  employers  in  England  and 
America,  445,  449.  "  Skatorial  queen," 
400.  Universal  rivals,  731.  Velodpede 
racers  in  Paris,  403.  "  Viola,"  439.  "  Vir-  . 
ginia,"  442.  Visitors  to  the  University 
Building,  441^.  470-  Waiters  in  the  Mo- 
hawk  Valley,  13.  "  Wheds  and  Whims," 
655,  675.  Miss  Winthrop's  book,  439. 
Wives  of  whedmen,  505,  506,  508,  516, 517, 
519,  5a»,  5^3.  5»4,  5a8»  53o.  548,  554. 
Writers  quoted  or  alluded  to,  3^1,  304, 
366-7,  382,  433.  530,  655,  67$,  684,  687,  728, 
7»9.  73  «• 


ADDENDA  ET  CORRIQENDA. 

Lbagub  Politics. — Recent  even  is  require  a  correction  of  the  complimentary  opinions  on 
pp.  618,  620-1.  On  Mar.  24,  'S;,  the  President  of  the  L.  A.  W.  removed  from  the  office  of 
Representative  of  the  Penn.  Division  the  man  who  had  for  two  and  a  half  years  served  with 
great  apparent  efficiency  as  League  Secretary-Editor,  "  for  malfeasance,  upon  the  following 
grounds,  namely:  (i)  In  that,  being  such  Representative  and  also  Secretary- Editor  of  said  League, 
you  wrongfully  converted  and  appropriated  to  your  own  use  the  funds  of  said  League,  collected 
by  you  in  your  official  capacity.  (2)  In  that,  being  such  Representative,  you  instigated  ahd  are 
instigating,  aiding,  and  abetting  the  circulation  of  scandalous,  libelous  and  false  sta.tenients  as 
to  the  conduct  and  motives  of  the  Executive  Committee  of  said  League,  and  of  its  Board  of 
Officers  at  the  recent  meeting  in  January  last.  (3)  In  that,  being  such  Representative  and 
owing  allegiance  to  said  League,  you  conspired  with  a  certain  official  thereof,  namely,  John  A. 
Wells,  Chief  Consul  of  Pennsylvania,  to  procure  the  cancellation  of  advertising  contracts  for  the 
BuUetbty  and  the  execution  in  the  place  thereof  of  contracts  with  said  Wells,  individually,  for  such 
advertising,  thereby  endeavoring  to  divert  legitimate  business  from  said  BuUetin  and  to  injure 
and  if  possible  destroy  its  publication."  The  man  last  named  was  also  removed  by  the  Presi- 
dent, at  the  same  lime,  "for  malfeasance,  upon  the  following  grounds,  namely  :  (i)  In  that, 
being  Chief  Consul  of  Pennsylvania,  and  Secretary  pro  tempore  of  said  League,  you  received 
official  papers  and  refused  and  neglected  to  deliver  them  to  your  successor  as  Secretary,  but 
turned  them  over  to  the  committee  of  an  adverse  faction  inimical  to  the  Executive  Committee 
and  Board  of  Officers.  •  •  •  (4)  In  tliat,  being  such  Chief  Consul  and  owing  alle- 
giance to  said  League,  and  being  in  duty  bound  to  aid  and  assist  it,  you  attached  by  legal  proc- 
ess the  entire  bank  account  and  the  office  effects  thereof  at  Philadelphia,  for  an  alleged  daim  for 
advertising  commissions,  payment  of  which  had  not  been  refused,  to  an  amount  largely  in  excess 
of  said  supposed  claim,  with  the  object  of  hindering,  harassing,  and  annoying  the  Executive 
Committee  and  officers  of  said  League,  and  by  such  unjustifiable  duress  of  compelling  payment 
of  said  alleged  claim."  The  second  and  third  charges  against  the  C.  C.  were  identical  with 
the  second  and  third  against  the  ex-Secretary,  whose  note  of  Mar.  2S,  accepting  the  removal, 
said  :  "  I  have  decided,  much  against  my  own  personal  Interests,  to  drop  the  controversy  where 
it  now  is  and  to  refrain  from  any  further  comments  on  the  charges  thus  far  made  against  me ; 
though  their  truth  I  emphatically  deny."  All  the  foregoing  appeared  in  the  Bulletin  of  Apr.  i 
(p.  266) ;  and  its  issue  of  Apr.  15  (p.  298)  contained  these  final  words  from  the  ex-Secretary, 
dated  April  9  :  "  I  hereby  resign  my  membership  in  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen." 

The  full  history  of  this  deplorable  case  covered  six  pages  of  fine  type  in  the  BuUetin  of 
Mar.  II,  '87,  and  was  in  form  an  '*  official  statement  by  the  Executive  Committee  to  the  offi- 
cers  and  members  of  the  League."  For  the  clear  and  moderate  language  of  the  narrative,  and 
the  business-like  way  in  which  the  letters  of  the  ex-Secretary  were  marshaled  in  unanswer- 
able evidence  against  himself,  I  suppose  credit  must  be  given  to  the  legal  member  of  the  com- 
mittee, J.  C.  Gulick.  As  early  as  the  Board  meeting  of  Feb.  22,  *86,  the  Secretary's  mode  of 
keeping  accounts  had  been  sharply  criticised  (5«//e/m,  pp.  192,  216-18),  and  at  the  next  or 
annual  meeting.  May  28,  the  Executive  Committee  were  instructed  to  prepare  a  report  showing 
the  exact  finandal  condition  of  his  office.  The  Secretary  absented  himself  from  that  meeting, 
on  the  plea  of  illness  caused  by  overwork,  and  was  represented  there  by  J.  A.  Wells  ("  Sec.-£d. 
pro  /*»r.,"— a  special  partner  in  the  firm  of  E.  Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,  printers  of  the  Bnlhiin), 
who  declared  that  two  designated  banks  of  Philadelphia  then  held  League  funds  amcranting  to 
*4438.v  (s««  verbatim  report,  Bulletin,  June  11,  »86,  p.  536,  1st  col.).  Though  this  partly 
allayed  the  suspicions  aroused  by  the  Secretary's  failure  to  send  the  Division  treasureis  their 
money,  the  Executive  were  nevertheless  ordered  to  investigate  him,  as  aforesaid ;  and  he  tkere- 


ADDENDA:  LEAGUE  POLITICS.  kxxv 

upon,  seeing  that  exposure  was  inevitable,  wrote  to  the  President  (June  i6,  ^),  confessing 
**  an  inexplicable  and  inexcusable  loss  of  jj^soo,  whereof  at  least  1^4500  belonged  to  the  L.  A. 
W. ;  and  1  am  left  without  a  cent  of  my  own  to  replace  it  with."  The  committee,  being  in 
doubt  as  to  their  ability  to  carry  on  a  criminal  prosecution  in  behalf  of  an  unincorporated  body, 
—or  to  collect  the  1^3000  bonds  whidi  had  been  signed  to  it,  "  as  a  corporation,"  by  two  Phila- 
delphiaus,  as  sureties  for  the  Secretary's  honesty,— decided  to  use  the  self-incriminatory  letter 
as  a  bait  for  getting  back  the  lost  money,  before  they  discharged  the  defaulter  from  his  official 
post.  By  the  employment  of  a  firm  of  expert  acaiuntants,  Vesey  &  Vesey,  and  the  payment  of 
some  $750,  for  this  and  other  incidental  expenses,  they  discovered  that  the  defalcation  had  at 
one  time  been  about  #5700 ;  they  put  in  operation  a  new  set  of  books  which  would  render  further 
irregularities  much  more  difficult  of  concealment ;  and  they  finally,  on  Aug.  3 1,  got  back  the  last  of 
the  missing  cash.  Before  returning  his  written  "  confession  "  to  the  Secretary,  they  had  a  copy  of 
it  taken  and  sworn  to  (as  printed  in  BuHttin^  Mar.  ti,  '87,  p.  aoi);  and  the  accountants,  Vesey 
&  Vesey,  also  took  copies  from  this  original  letter,  and  they  publicly  declared  that,  from 
their  familiarity  with  the  Secretary's  handwriting,  they  had  no  question  whatever  of  its  authen> 
ticity  {/imerican  Athlete^  April  a,  '87,  p.  57), — though  he  himself  denied  it  as  a  '*  preposterous 
fabrication  "  (./4 .  A.^  Mar.  19,  p.  42).  The  accountants  discovered  that  the  net  loss  on  18 
months'  publication  of  the  BmlUtm  had  been  "  within  $200  of  $5000,"  despite  the  annual  allow- 
ance of  $3500  for  salaries  and  rent,  and  extra  grants  for  postage  and  incidentab  ;  and  they  de- 
clared their  inability  to  get  from  the  Secretary  the  check-books,  pass-books  or  checks  which 
Bnight  show  his  transaaions  with  the  bank  where  he  deiwsited  most  of  the  League  money. 

It  should  be  noted  that  the  funds  were  restored  just  before  the  stated  Board  meeting  of  Sept. 
3,  *86,  thus  allowing  the  committee  to  make  a  favorable  report  of  their  investigation  {Bul.^  Sept.  17, 
p.  298),  instead  of  announcing  the  deficiency.  They  next  worked  assiduously  to  secure  from 
the  Sccretauy  a  legally  valid  bond  of  1^3000,  in  substitution  for  the  imperfect  one  which  nomi- 
nally held  him ;  and  they  got  it,  Oct.  39,  or  more  than  a  month  after  their  first  written  demand 
had  followed  their  verbal  request.  Upwards  of  a  dozen  letters  were  exchanged  in  this  interval 
and  they  may  be  perused  by  whoever  is  curious  to  study  the  Secretary's  skill  as  a  prevaricator 
{Bml.y  Mar.  11,  '87,  pp.  204-5);  but  the  final  phrase  of  the  final  one,  dated  Oct.  25,  which  brought 
his  pn>crastination  to  an  end,  was  this  :  "If  the  said  satisfactory  bond  is  not  in  our  hands 
before  Nov.  i,  the  committee  will  be  under  the  necessity  of  removing  you  from  the  office."  A 
unDarly  inexcusable  delay  was  shown  by  him  in  obeying  the  recommendation  made  in  the 
eariiest  report  of  the  expert  accountant  (June  30,  '86;  see  Bul.^  Feb.  xi.  Mar.  11,  '87,  pp.  117, 
205),  that  he  should  no  longer  be  allowed  to  deposit  League  money  in  his  own  private  bank 
account,  or  to  draw  checks  upon  it  without  the  counter-signature  of  one  of  the  Executive  Commit- 
tee ;  for  the  November  checks  were  the  earliest  ones  forwarded  to  them  for  such  signature,"  there- 
by revealing  that  J.  A.  Wells,  whom  we  had  assumed  as  a  voluntary  friendly  assistant,  was  drawing 
iraauthorized  pay,  for  commissions  on  Bulletm  advertisements."  At  the  earliest  committee-meet- 
ing after  this  disclosure  (Phila.,  Dec.  12),  "  it  was  at  first  determined  to  demand  the  Secretary's 
resignation  " ;  but  desire  to  avoid  public  scandal— the  same  motive  which  had  previously  led 
the  committee  to  treat  him  with  what  their  critics  call  undue  indulgence — induced  them  to  post- 
pone action,  in  the  hope  that  at  the  annual  winter  meeting  of  the  full  Board,  appointed  for  Jan. 
17,  a  new  Secretary  might  be  quietly  elected,  and  the  League's  good  name  be  kept  untarnished. 

"  Before  many  da>'s,  however,  it  became  clear  that  such  delay  was  injudicious,  and  that  the 
Secretary  should  either  tender  his  resignation,  be  requested  to  resign,  or  else  be  removed  from 
office,  before  the  convention  met.  A  letter  from  the  President  to  that  eflFect  brought  him  and 
Mr.  Wells  to  New  York  for  an  interview,  wiih  the  cool  statement  that  the  resignation  would  be 
offered  on  the  condition  that  Mr.  W.  should  be  appointed  his  successor."  The  President  hav 
ing  insisted  on  the  impropriety  of  this,  and  referred  the  matter  to  the  Executive  Committee,  Mr. 
W.  appeared  before  them  and  "gave  assurance  that  he  would  admit  an  unconditional  resigna- 
tion by  the  Secretary,  to  take  effect  at  once,"— but  in  the  hope  that  this  concession  would  im- 
prove  his  own  chances  of  appointment.  On  Jan.  11, '87,  the  President  telegraphed  to  him  : 
'*  Have  reoeived  resignation.    Will  you  accept  Sec- Ed. 's  office  until  Jan.  17?    If  so,  publish 


Ixxxvi      TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

resignation  and  appointment  in  BuUetin.^^  That  paper  of  Jan.  14  (pp.  30-31)  printed  the  Sec- 
retary's letter,  which  was  dated  Jan.  i,  and  said  the  resignation  was  "  caused  by  the  acceptance 
of  a  very  flattering  business  offer,"  and  would  "  take  effect  on  the  election  of  my  successor, 
Jan.  17," — which  limitation  had  not  been  noticed  by  the  President  when  he  sent  the  telegnm. 
On  the  mere  authority  of  this  telegram,  the  Secretary  printed  a  formal  letter,  of  same  date,  with 
the  President's  signature  attached  to  the  following  phrase  :  "  It  affords  me  pleasure  to  appoint 
to  this  responsible  position  Mr.  John  A.  Wells,  Chief  Consul  of  the  Pennsylvania  Division, 
and  I  take  this  opportunity  to  congratulate  the  League  on  the  fact  that  a  gentleman  of  Mr. 
Wells'  well-known  abilities  has  been  induced  to  accept  the  position."  {Bul.^  Jan.  14,  '87,  p. 
31).  As  the  President  never  wrote  these  words,  they  were  presumably  fabricated  by  the  Secre- 
tary, who  printed  just  below  them,  over  his  own  signature,  a  "  fraternal  address  to  all  League 
members,"  containing  additional  compliments  for  his  ostensible  successor,  thus  :  "  I  do  not  doubt 
that  the  wisdom  of  our  President's  prompt  choice  will  meet  with  an  emphatic  indorsement  by  our 
Board.  Mr.  Wells'  accepunce  of  the  trust  assures  the  League  that  a  conservative  and  able  ad- 
ministration will  be  the  result  of  such  a  choice."  A  more  elaborate  farewell  address  was  promised 
for  the  issue  of  Jan.  ax ;  but  as  the  Executive  Committee  managed  to  regain  control  of  their  prop- 
erty before  then,  they  naturally  "  barred  the  insertion  of  further  self-laudatory  effrontery  and 
hypocritical  infliction  "  ;  and  on  Jan.  16,  when  the  President  told  the  Sec.  he  must  either  resign 
at  once  or  be  removed,  he  resigned  unconditionally,  and  Mr.  Wells  was  appointed  Sec.  /rv  tern. 
To  explain  the  committee's  manner  of  regaining  control  on  Jan.  17,  it  is  necessary  to  go 
back  a  little  and  say  tliat  when  the  Secretary's  confession  of  defalcation  put  upon  them  the  difS- 
cult  duty  of  discovering  some  suitable  person  to  appoint  or  elect  in  his  place,  at  such  time  as  he 
should  be  gotten  rid  of,  they  naturally  turned  towards  the  Chairman  of  the  Racing  Board.  On 
the  one  hand,  he  was  an  elderly  man,  who  liad  won  the  re.spect  of  League  members  by  the 
straightforward  way  in  which  he  had  enforced  their  odious  "  amateur  rule,"  that  cycle  racing  in 
this  couhtry  must  be  governed  as  a  matter  of  social  etiquette  and  pecuniary  standing  rather  than 
as  a  matter  of  sport  and  swiftness  (see  p.  630),  and  who  had  had  a  longer  experience  at  the  busi- 
ness of  cycling  journalism  than  any  other  American  (p.  525) ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  his 
newly-born  weekly,  the  Cycle,  gave  few  tokens  of  any  such  financial  support  as  might  ensure  its 
permanent  prosperity  (p.  665).  When,  however, — after  gaining  his  consent  to  abandon  this,  in 
favor  of  the  more-certain  income  attaching  to  the  position  of  Secretary- Elditor, — ^they  bistirred 
themselves  to  secure  such  a  number  of  "  proxy  votes  "  as  would  place  his  election  beyond  ques- 
tion, they  found  that  the  actual  Secretary  had  already  put  out  a  drag-net  for  the  capture  of 
enough  "  blank  proxies  "  to  elect  his  own  successor  and  "  keep  the  BHlletin  at  Philadelphia." 
Aroused  thus  to  the  danger  of  seeing  themselves  triumphantly  defied  by  the  defaulter  whom  they 
had  treated  so  leniently,  they  made  the  "  combination  of  Massachusetts,  New  York  and  Ohio," 
which  elected  their  candidate  over  his,  by  a  majority  of  34  in  a  total  vote  of  136.  The  ballot  was 
not  cast  until  it  p.  m.  of  Jan.  17,  though  the  session  began  at  11  a.  m., — ^most  of  the  intermedi- 
ate time  being  spent  in  debating  the  Secretary's  right  to  collect  blank  proxies  from  the  unwary 
and  put  them  into  his  friends*  hands  for  voting.  There  were  15  such  proxies  rejected  by  the 
Board,  2  others  because  of  non -residence  and  2  others  because  sent  by  telegraph  ;  and  though 
the  legalization  of  these  19  could  not  have  changed  the  result  of  the  actual  vote  (S5  to  51),  it 
might  have  been  changed  by  the  whole  "  42,"  which  the  Secretary's  statement  said  were  given 
to  him  (A.  A.,  Mar.  5,  p.  11).  His  failure  to  offer  23  of  these  seems  to  imply  that  not  enough 
of  his  partisans  were  present  to  use  them  ;  1.  e.,  the  distribution  of  these  19  in  addition  to  the 
allowable  proxies  seems  to  have  brought  them  all  up  to  the  legal  limit  of  "  three  each."  On 
the  very  night  of  his  defeat,  the  "  Sec.  pra  iem.^*  made  a  peremptory  demand  for  $1000,  on  a 
printing  bill  due  his  firm  (which  had  not  previously  been  named  as  urgent,  but  which  the  com- 
mittee at  once  paid) ;  and  on  the  following  morning  he  and  the  ex-Sec  hurried  home  to  Phila., 
without  attending  the  adjourned  session  of  the  Board,  carrying  with  them  the  official  papers  and 
documents  which  were  needed  for  the  transaction  of  its  business.  A  unanimous  vote  was  there- 
fore  passed  that  they  *' deserve  the  severe  censure  of  this  Board  and  of  every  member  and 
friend  of  the   League,  for  betrayal  of  trusts  reposed  in  them,  for  conduct  prejudicial  to  the 


ADDENDA  :  LEAGUE  POLITICS.  Lcxxvii 

League,  and  for  malfeasance  in  office  " ;  and  it  was  later  declared  as  the  sense  of  t^e  Board  **  that 
the  President  ought  forthwith  to  remove  them  from  their  offices,  as  guilty  of  malfeasance/' — 
though  he  did  not  in  fact  do  this  until  March  24.  The  latter  resolution  was  seconded  by  "  the 
only  Representative  of  Pennsylvania  remaining  in  attendance/'— for  the  others  kept  away  from 
the  adjourned  session,  and  w  did  not  hear  the  reading  of  the  certified  copy  of  the  letter  of  June 
16,  *86,  which  confessed  the  defalcation.  They  had  heard,  however,  the  strong  verbal  protest 
of  the  ex-Secretary  against  the  propobal  to  read  it,  at  the  first  day's  session,  as  supplementary 
to  the  ihree  reports  of  Vesey  &  Vcscy,  accountants,  which  were  read  then.  The  first  day's 
vote,  that  the  damaging  figures  of  these  reports  and  the  other  unpleasant  facts  of  the  meeting  be 
not  given  to  the  press,  was  rescinded  on  the  second  day,  when  the  defiant  withdrawal  of  die  ex- 
Secretary's  defeated  faction  had  made  clear  that  the  Board  must  proclaim  the  full  truth,  however 
scandalous,  as  the  only  sure  method  of  justifying  their  conduct  to  the  general  membership. 

The  first  impulse  and  intention  of  the  seceding  faction,  according  to  general  rumor  and  be- 
lief, was  to  refuse  recognition  of  the  new  Secretary-Editor,  as  illegally  elected,  and  so  "  keep 
the  BmiUtiH  at  Philadelphia  "  until  an  appeal  could  be  made  to  the  League's  general  member- 
ship. Nothing  so  foolhardy  was  attempted  in  fact,  however,  and  the  intention  itself  was  stoutly 
denied, — though  the  actual  folly  of  the  "  mass  meeting  of  Feb.  1  "  made  such  rumor  seem 
plausible.  When  ihe  new  Secretary  arrived,  on  Jan.  19,  he  was  put  iu  possession  of  the  League 
office,  civilly  if  not  graciously,  and  no  special  obstacles  seem  to  have  been  thrown  in  the  way  of 
bis  getting  control  of  its  business.  The  BulUtiM  of  Jan.  21,  which  was  already  in  t3rpe,  printed 
his  name  as  editor,  but  said  :  "  By  request  of  the  Executive  Committee,  Mr.  J.  A.  Wells  has 
uken  char:ge  of  this  week's  issue  ;  "  so  that  the  paper  of  Jan.  aS  was  really  the  first  one  under 
the  new  rigifme.  It  gave  a  condensed  account  of  the  two  days'  meeting  and  of  the  committee 
reports  read  then,  and  also  printed  the  ex-Secretar>''s  report,  which  he  had  not  been  allowed  to 
read  in  advance  of  the  election  on  the  first  day,  and  which  he  declined  to  read  or  to  leave  for  his 
successor  to  read  on  the  second  day.  The  document  is  an  interesting  and  valuable  on/s  (filling 
nine  columns  of  nonpareil  type,  though  some  parts  were  omitted),  and  I  should  be  glad  to  quote 
extensively  from  its  well-tabulated  facts  about  League  membership,  and  its  shrewd  special- 
pleading  about  the  Bulletin.  In  the  same  issue  (p.  75)  appeared  a  farewell  sonnet  to  the  ex- 
Secretary,  which,  though  creditable  to  the  author's  literary  ability  (as  well  as  to  his  goodness  of 
heart, — assuming  that  he  wrote  before  discovering  the  unworthiness  of  the  object  of  it),  ought 
never  to  have  been  published  by  the  new  Secretary,  who  was  fully  aware  of  that  unworthiness. 
He  issued  four  more  numbers  at  Phila.,  but  has  since  published  it  in  Boston,  at  the  former  office 
of  the  Cycle^  22  School  st., — the  printers  being  A.  Mudge  &  Son,  24  Franklin  st.  "  We  were 
obliged  to  make  a  quick  move  to  Boston,  to  print  this  Bulle/in,"  he  said,  March  4,  "  for  only 
six  days  before  its  date  the  firm  to  which  Mr.  Wells  belongs  suddenly  discovered  they  could  not 
print  it,  as  expected.  This  is  only  one  of  many  annoyances  to  which  he  has  subjected  us, — such 
as  the  refusal  to  furnish  a  mail-list,  the  demand  for  weekly  payment  of  printing  bills,  and  the 
attachment  of  all  the  League  effects  in  Phila."  The  latter  process  was  served  Feb.  18,  on  the 
pretext  of  securing  a  claim  for  $572,  alleged  to  be  due  for  commissions  on  advertisements.  Five 
or  six  weeks  later,  rather  than  have  the  trouble  of  a  law-suit,  the  League  compromised  for  $200. 

Meantime,  on  Mar.  5,  the  day  when  the  first  Boston  issue  of  Bulletin  appeared,  he  an- 
nounced himself  as  "  managing  editor  of  the  American  Athlete  (P.  O.  Box  916,  Phila.),  official 
of]gan  of  the  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Cycling,  and  of  the  Pa.  and  Md.  Divisions  of 
L.  A.  W.  Published  every  ahemate  Saturday  by  the  Am.  Ath.  Pub.  Co.,  321  Chestnut  St.,  and 
entered  at  the  P.  O.  as  2d  class  matter."  In  the  second  issue,  Mar.  19,  the  "official  organ" 
phrase  was  displaced  by  the  following  :  "  an.  independent  bi-weekly  journal,  devoted  to  <tmateur 
cycling,  cricket,  lawn-tennis,  base-ball,  rowing,  and  other  amateur  athletic  sports ;  "  and  in  the 
third  issue,  Apr.  3,  "  Box  9x6  "  (long  familiar  to  League  men  as  the  ex-Secretary- Editor's)  was 
displaced  by  "  Box  1228,"  with  the  remark  that  that  person  "  does  not  have  and  never  has  had 
any  financial  interest  in  this  paper,  and  that  he  is  not  and  never  has  been  our  employ^,  either  as 
assistant-editor,  correspondent,  or  in  any  other  capacity  whatever."  The  significance  of  this 
disclaimer  is  connected  with  the  fact  that  p.  57  of  the  same  paper  printed  the  letter  from  Vesey 


Ixxxviii    TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

&  Vesey,  accountants  (quoted  at  the  outset  of  this  article),  affirming  that  the  ex-Secrctary's  con- 
fession of  defalcation,  written  June  x6,  was  copied  by  them  July  2  ;  and  tliat  their  report  of 
Aug.  II,  '86  (read  at  Board  meeting  of  Jan.  17,  '87;  printed  in  Bm/.,  Feb.  11,  p.  118,  isicoL) 
showed  the  amount  of  it  to  be  $5532.79.  Attached  to  the  latter  was  the  following  editorial  note : 
**  The  above  is  as  great  a  surprise  to  us  as  it  will  be  to  any  of  our  readers.  As  the  Executive 
Committee  liad  all  this  information  in  their  possession  at  the  League  Board  meeting  at  Buffalo, 
last  September,  why  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  honest  did  they  not  depose  him  then  and  there, 
or  at  least  place  the  facts  in  their  possession  before  the  Board,  instead  of  making  a  manifestly 
false  report.  If  these  men  have  deceived  the  Board  once,  they  will  do  so  again,  and  the  only 
safe  course  the  League  can  pursue  is  to  elect  an  entirely  new  Executive."  Yet  the  first  issue  of 
this  journal,  only  four  weeks  before,  had  devoted  all  save  2  of  its  21  columns  to  attempting  the 
defense  of  the  ex-Secretary,  and  the  discrediting  of  those  who  had  helped  to  depose  him  !  He 
himself  filled  four  columns  with  an  "  affidavit "  and  three  more  with  a  "  statement,'*  whose 
conclusion  was  editorially  promised  for  the  second  number.  Instead  of  this,  however,  he  printed 
eleven  columns  (Mar.  19,  pp.  3S-43),  called  a  "  reply  to  the  false  and  libelous  charges  of  the  Ex- 
ecutive Committee's  *  Statement '  in  Bulletin  of  Mar.  11."  The  first  eight  columns  of  this  were 
given  to  abusing  the  committee, — endeavoring  to  show,  by  an  exposure  of  their  private  letters  to 
him,  that  they  were  men  of  weak  character, — while  two  columns  were  devoted  to  "  an  emphatic, 
broad  denial  "  of  his  own  self-incriminatory  letter,  unaccompanied  by  any  reasonable  evidence 
against  its  authenticity.  The  same  issue  gave  iS  columns  more  to  a  stenographic  "  report  of  the 
mass  meeting  of  the  Pa.  Div.,  L.  A.  W.,  qt  the  rooms  of  the  Phila.  B.  C,  Feb.  1,  '87,  to  protest 
against  the  illegal  and  unwarranted  acts  of  the  Board  meeting  of  Jan.  17-18," — the  outcome  of 
which  was  the  publication  of  a  verbatim  report  of  the  latter  meeting  {Bul.^  Feb.  11,  i8,  pp. 
1x2-22,  143-6),  and  of  the  Ex.  Com.  Statement  and  Credentials  Com.  Report  {^Bnl.  Mar.  ti,  25, 
pp.  201-7,  242).  No  logical  reader  of  these  documents  can  have  any  doubt  as  to  the  fairness  and 
wisdom  shown  by  the  League's  Board,  on  Jan.  17,  in  getting  rid  of  the  officers  who  had  betrayed 
it ;  and  the  singular  fatuity  with  which  a  considerable  number  of  full-grown,  intelligent,  well- 
roeaiiing,  honest  and  respectable  Philadelphians  "  wrote  themselves  down  "  in  their  expressions 
at  that  "indignation  meeting  of  Feb.  i  "  (as  preserved  in  the  cold  type  of  its  stenographic  re- 
port), seems  to  me  to  rank  as  a  psychological  phenomenon.  Their  unaccountable  simplicity  in 
being  beguiled,  even  a  fortnight  after  the  official  accountant's  grim  figures  ("$5532.79  defalca- 
tion ")  had  become  a  matter  of  record,  is  only  matched  by  the  amazing  effrontery  of  ihe  ex- 
Secretary,  in  forcing  the  League's  officers  to  make  a  public  scandal  of  his  crime.  There  is  some- 
thing bewildering  and  almost  incredible  in  the  choice  he  made,  to  defy  them  and  attempt  con- 
cealing the  truth  from  their  10,000  supporters,  after  putting  his  signature  to  a  long  confession 
which  says :  "At  least  $4500  of  this  missing  $6200  was  money  belonging  to  the  L.  A.  W." 
"One  amount  of  $1000  I  have  raised,  but  $4000  at  least  I  must  have  at  once  or  be  forever  dis- 
graced."    "  I  cannot  longer  stand."    "  I  must  have  release  or  give  it  up  and  die." 

Though  the  former  practice  of  selling  the  League  mailing-hsls  (at  $2  to  $5)  was  forbidden, 
by  vole  of  Ex.  Com.,  some  years  ago,  these  lists  have  been  used  in  sending  out  the  American 
Athlete^  which  thus  boasts  a  "guaranteed  circulation  of  over  10,000  copies  per  issue."  Its 
nominal  price  is  50  c.  a  year,  3  c.  a  copy;  and  its  5  numbers,  to  Apr.  30,  show  loS  pp.,  whereof 
40  pp.  are  advertisements.  The  object  of  its  existence  has  not  been  very  clear  since  the  third 
issue,  when  the  task  of  defending  the  defaulting  ex-Secretary  was  thrown  overboard  as  hopeless, 
and  it  will  probably  not  last  much  longer.  The  men  who  saved  the  League  from  the  machina- 
tions of  its  editor  will  perhaps  read  it  while  it  lasts,  for  the  sake  of  the  spiteful  slurs  and  innuen- 
does which  testify  to  the  thoroughness  of  their  work.  The  intellectual  feebleness  which  inspires 
this  malice  is  shown  by  the  pretense  that  the  BulletirCs  transfer  to  Boston  "  puts  it  under  the 
thumb  of  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co."  ;  and  that  the  expressed  intention  of  League 'members  to  promote 
to  their  presidency  the  man  who  as  Vice-President  helped  the  other  two  members  of  the  Ex. 
Com.  to  get  rid  of  the  defaulter,  "  means  merely  that  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.  orders  the  place  to  be 
given  to  one  of  its  stockholders."  The  general  carelessness  and  thoughtlessness  which  charac- 
terize much  of  the  editing  and  writing  in  the  cycling  press,  have  likewise  been  shown  in  most  of 


ADDENDA:    LEAGUE  POLITICS,  Ixxxix 

the  printed  comments  on  this  lamentable  case.  These  chance  critics  have  treated  it  as  a  personal 
quarrel  between  two  official  factions  of  nearly  equal  merit  and  importance  ;  and,  witti  a  lazy  dis- 
like of  investigating  its  merits,  have  flippantly  declared  "  the  whole  business  is  a  bore."  Tire- 
some the  case  has  been,  of  necessity,  but  there  has  been  nothing  quarrelsome  about  it,  any  more 
than  about  the  conduct  of  judges  and  juries  who  bring  other  evil-doers  to  a  halt.  The  struggle 
was  an  attempt  of  the  organized  wheelmen  of  America  to  maintain  their  official  integrity ;  and 
lasting  gratitude  belongs  to  their  representatives  who  proved  that  they  had  power  to  do  it. 

In  the  latest  annual  election  of  Chief  Consuls  (announced  in  Bulletin  of  Apr.  29,  '87),  the 
following  new  men  were  chosen,  while  tlie  other  States  re-elected  the  ones  named  on  pp.  627-8  : 
Vt.,  L.  p.  Thayer,  W.  Randolph ;  Ct.,  L.  A.  Tracy,  Hartford  ;  N.  J.,  J.  H.  Cooley,  Plainfield  ; 
Pa.,  G.  a.  Jessup,  Scrantou  ;  W.  Va.,  J.  W.  Grubb,  Wheeling ;  Va.,  J.  C.  Carroll,  Norfolk ; 
La.,  H.  H.  Hodgson,  New  Orleans;  Tbnn.,  J.  C.  Combs,  Nashville;  Kv.,  E.  H.  Croninger, 
Covington;  III.,  N.  II.  Van  Sicklen,  Chicago;  Ia.,  F.  C.  Thrall,  Ottumwa ;  Dak.,  J.  E. 
Gilbert,  Mitchell ;  Nsa,  F.  N.  Clark,  Omaha.  The  office  of  Sec.-Treas.  is  held  by  new  men 
in  4  States,  as  follows  :  N.  J.,  R.  Pound,  Plainfield ;  O.,  F.  C.  Meyer,  Canton  ;  III.,  S.  B. 
Wright,  Chicago;  Wis.  (org.  Feb.  24, '87),  G.  W.  Peck.  The  "official  programme  of  the 
eighth  annual  meet  of  the  League  " — appointed  for  St.  Louis,  May  20 — is  an  elegant  36  p. 
pamphlet,  printed  in  colors  on  tinted  paper,  with  17  illustrations  by  artists  of  the  Missouri  Divis- 
ion. At  that  time,  T.  J.  Kirkpatrick,  of  Springfield,  O.,  will  probably  be  promoted  to  the 
presidency,  and  A.  B.  Irvin,  of  Rushville,  Ind.,  to  the  treasurership,  for  no  other  candidates  have 
been  mentioned.  Lithographic  portraits  of  each  were  issued  as  supplements  by  the  IVfieei- 
men's  Record^  May  12  and  Apr.  21.  To  fill  the  places  resigned  by  original  incumbents  of 
two  offices  named  on  p.  627,  appointments  have  been  made  thus  :  Tourmasier,  N.  L.  Col- 
lamer,  St.  Cloud  Building,  Washington,  D.  C.  (app.  Apr.  25,  '87);  Bookmasier,  A.  B.  Bark- 
man,  608  Fourth  av.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  (app.  Dec.  18,  '36).  The  laiter's  "  Road-Book  of  the 
New  York  Division  "  (see  pp.  584,625)  was  published  May  4,  '87,  and  is  the  most  elaborate  and 
carefully-compiled  work  of  the  sort  thus  far  isaued  by  the  League.  Of  its  200  pp.,  the  tabulated 
riding-routes  cover  144  pp.  and  describe  14,000  m.,  including  no  less  than  11,300  m.  of  separate 
roadway,  from  Canada  to  Virginia.  Details  are  added  (12  pp.)  concerning  the  best  riding  around 
N.  Y.  City,  Brooklyn,  Long  Island,  Staten  Island  and  Bu£falo  (with  a  map  in  each  case),  the 
Hudson,  Berkshire  and  the  Adirondacks  ;  and  special  majjs  are  given  of  the  Orange  and  Phila. 
riding  districts.  There  are  a  dozen  other  pages  of  interesting  and  valuable  letterpress,  and  twice 
that  number  given  to  table-of-con tents  and  index  to  1641  towns.  The  book  is  well-printed,  by 
E.  .Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,  ot  Phila. ;  is  of  the  regulation  oblong  shape  3  by  ^\  in. ;  weighs  5J 
oz, ;  has  flexible  covers  of  dark  green  leather,  and  can  be  procured  only  by  League  members, — 
residents  of  the  State  receiving  it  free  and  others  paying  $1  for  it.  No  worider  that,  with  such 
a  valuable  gift  in  prospect,  the  Sec.-Treas.  was  able  to  rei^ort,  Apr.  2,  "an  unprecedented  per- 
centage of  renewals,— 1404  out  of  1748, — so  that,  with  new  applicants,  our  present  membership 
is  1649,  or  within  100  of  its  size  at  the  close  of  '86."  Deducting  $389  for  expenditures  of  the 
first  quarter-year,  he  names  $1544  as  net  assets, — from  which  I  suppose  the  cost  of  book  is  to  be 
paid.  The  latter's  preface  expresses  the  hope  that  it  may  be  the  means  of  swelling  the  member- 
ship to  3000  before  the  year  closes. 

Another  signal  proof  of  the  power  and  wise  management  of  the  Division  is  shown  by  the 
passage  through  the  State  Assembly,  May  2,  of  an  act  declaring  drivers  of  bicycles  and  tricycles 
to  be  "  entitled  to  the  same  rights  and  subject  to  the  same  restrictions  as  persons  using  carriages 
drawn  by  horses," — and  forbidding  local  authorities  to  enforce  any  repressive  rules  against  them 
(for  full  text,  see  Bul.y  Apr.  8,  p.  279;  Wheel,  Apr.  i).  This  was  formulated  at  the  instance  of 
the  Chief  Consul,  G.  R.  Bid  well,  by  the  Division's  counsel,  I.  B.  Potter  (whose  summary  of 
"  the  road-law  of  cycling  "  is  given  in  the  book  just  named ;  seepage  584),  and  introduced  Apr.  12, 
when  it  went  at  once  to  a  third  reading.  As  the  Park  Commissioners  of  N.  Y.  City  were  too 
much  absorbed  in  their  own  chronic  personal  wrangling  over  *'  patronage  "  (p.  93)  to  organize 
any  opposition,  it  received  a  practically  unanimous  vote,  May  2,  and  will  probably  become  a  law 
before  their  book  appears.    Even  if  they  manage  to  stop  it  now  in  the  Senate,  ultimate  triumph 


xc  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

cannot  be  doubtful ;  for  the  men  who  vote  against  this  "  equal  rights  bill "  will  be  persistently 
advertised  and  "black-listed"  by  the  many  hundreds  of  vigorous  young  voters  who  have  put 
their  signatures  to  the  petitions  in  its  behalf.  The  latest  contribution  to  the  literature  of  wheel- 
men's rights  on  the  highways  appears  in  Outing  for  May,  from  the  pen  of  C.  £.  Pratt,  our  ear- 
liest American  student  of  the  subject  (see  p.  503)  ;  and  the  latest  grant  from  the  commissioners 
of  Prospect  Park  allows  all  tricyders  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  n.  n. 
and  s.,  153  m.  e.  and  w.)  was  Issued  Apr.  8,  and  may  be  had  by  non-members  for  $1,  on  appli- 
cation to  J.  Zimmerman,  37  S.  Alabama  st.,  Indianapolis.  It  contains  lists  of  officers  and  hoteb, 
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  (^»/.,  Mar.  xi,  '87,  p.  20S).  The 
long-delayed  general  hand-book  of  the  League  (see  p.  625),  with  24  titles  in  its  contents-!i£t, 
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  coo- 
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 — noi 
to  the  address  given  at  foot  of  p.  624,  but — to  Abbot  Bassett,  22  School  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 

By  estimate  of  the  ex-Secretary  (5»/.,  Jan.  28,  p.  71),  about  4000  uniforms  were  sold  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.  2S2),  with  intention  to  avrard  to  low- 
est bidder  by  Apr.  20 ;  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;  cloth 
$2.37  per  yard, — all  goods  to  be  delivered  free  at  any  express  office  in  the  U.  S.  The  contract 
lasts  till  Nov.  X,  '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  aU  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  special  sort  of  dark  brown  "  Venetian  "  cloth,  made  at  the  Burlington  Woolen  Mills,  for  $2.12 
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,  12  Front  st.,  Toronto, 
— for  40  c.  per  yard ;  also  that  the  C.  W.  A.  treasury,  on  May  i,  had  a  surplus  of  more  than 
$200,  after  paying  for  the  2d  ed.  of  its  excellent  road-book ;  see  p.  636.)  The  League  cash  bal- 
ance, Mar.  31,  was  $2744-23,  with  $3872.39  due  for  advertising.  Against  these  total  assets  of 
$6616.67  were  set  $4352.58  due  the  Divisions  and  $1300.08  for  all  other  accounts,  including  the 
month's  printing,— thus  leaving  an  apparent  net  balance  of  $964.  The  number  of  Bulletin's 
pages  has  been  lessened  and  its  advertising  rates  increased ;  so  that  during  April  its  receipts  ex- 
ceeded 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  'S6,  and  5176  a  year  earlier.  The  final  report  of  the 
ex-editor  gave  a  tabular  view  of  its  monthly  receipts  and  expenditures  for  '86  (^«r/.,  Jan.  28,  '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  volume  began,— Jan.  7,  '87,— but  its  paper  and  typography  have  both  been  cheap- 
ened since  the  removal  to  Boston. 


ADDENDA  :   LEAGUE  POUTJCS.  xci 

Tbe  League's  Tnnsporution  Committee  has  won  two  noUble  victories  since  last  July,  when 
iq).  594-6  were  electrotyped.  At  end  of  Dec.,  the  N.  Y.  Central  r.  r.  issued  orders  that  a  pas- 
Koger's  bicycle  be  carried  free  ou  local  trains,  in  place  of  other  baggage,  provided  he  presented 
it  to  baggageman,  ten  minutes  before  traiu-time,  and  signed  a  release  of  liability.  Another  im- 
portam  trunk-line,  the  Chicago  &  Northwestern,  against  which  wheelmen  have  sometimes  spoken 
hard  words,  adopted  the  same  enlightened  system  in  April,  and  regularly  announces  in  the  offi- 
cial time-tables  that  bicycles  can  be  checked  as  baggage.  I  have  also  found  the  following  addi- 
tional free  lines  named  in  the  BicycU  Sotdk  (Aug.,  '66) :  Alabama  Great  Southern  ;  Cincinnati 
Southern  ;  Georgia  Pacific ;  Louisville,  New  Oilcans  &  Texas ;  Mobile  &  Ohio;  New  Orleans 
&  Northeastern;  Newport  News  &  Miss,  Valley  (Va..  May  i,  'S/),  Vicksbun>&  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  ii6  Gravier  st.. 
New  Orleans.  W.  P.  Way,  of  Belleville,  Ont.,  in  behalf  of  the  C.  W.  A.  Trans.  Com.  re- 
potted these  free  roads,  Oct.  12,  '86,  in  addition  to  the  7  more-imporunt  ones  on  p.  59S  :  Canada 
Atlantic,  Central  Ontario,  Kingston  &  Pemboke,  Napanee  &  Tamworth,  New  Brunswick 
Quebec  Central,  South  Eastern. 

London  Assurancb.~I  am  obliged  to  withdraw  the  mild  recommendatiou  made  upon  pp. 
642,691,  tliat  Americans  subscribe  for  the  "C.  T.  C,"  as  the  cheapest  device  forgetting  an 
English  monthly  which  would  tell  them  about  foreign  touring.  On  p.  642,  I  explain  how  its 
editor  is  the  real  executive  chief  of  the  concern  which  nominally  employs  him  ;  and  on  p.  691 
be  writes  himself  down  as  a  very  ill-mannered  person  ;  but  I  had  assumed  he  was  at  least  an 
honest  one, — however  supercilioiu  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.  22,  18S6.  This  date  may  properly  be 
remsmbered  as  marking  when  the  C.  T.  C.  was  "  foundered  in  London,"— in  contrast  to 
"Aug.  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  Times 
of  July  7,  '85,  called  "The  Promptings  of  Duly  are  Inexorable  "—which  article  was  chiefly 
given  to  ridiculing  the  pretensions  of  the  Gaztttt  as  of  business  value  to  its  advertisers  and  of 
liienry  value  to  its  readers.  This  was  from  the  pen  of  a  certain  J.  B.  Marsh,  of  the  editorial 
■tafF  of  the  Stuttdard,  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  so.  An  insolent  attack  upon  him  in  the  Gazette  of  May,  '84,— exposing  a  purely  private 
"  touring  challenge  "  of  his  to  a  Boston  acquaintance  (J.  S.  Phillips,  lit.  ed.  of  Wheelman  ;  see 
pp.  258,  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 
bim.  The  result  was  a  series  of  six  artichs  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 
abuses.  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  meeiing  of  Dec,  '84,— the  largest  ever  held,— to  em- 
body them  in  legislation,  as  recorded  in  Gaxette.  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  Gazette,  in  reproof  of  something  which  two  young  .\merican  riders  had  printed, 
and  he  closed  by  saying  that  people  "  did  not  want  such  exaggerated  stories."  The  "  Sec- Ed." 
inlerpolated  the  words,  *'  nor  the  vaporings  of  elderly  quidnuncs^''*  and  printed  the  whole  over 
J.  P. 's  signature,  afterwards  telling  him  that  the  forged  phrase  was  designed  to  apply  to  J.  B. 
Maish.  Hence,  as  soon  as  the  libel-suit  opened,  and  the  latter's  counsel  had  got  the  "  Sec-Ed." 
plaintiff  in  the  witness-box,  they  promptly  extorted  from  him  a  confession  of  the  foiigery,  and 
"he  admitted  that  these  words  were  meant  to  refer  to  Mr.  Marsh,  the  writer  of  the  alleged  libel. 


xcii  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

The  Judge  here  intervened,  and  Inquired  whether  it  was  not  unnecessary,  after  this  evidence,  to 
proceed  wiih  the  case."     **  Surely  it  was  no  use  wasting  more  time  over  such  an  action." 

The  defendant's  counsel,  however,  not  content  with  this  signal  victory,  persisted  in  examin- 
ing other  witnes.scs,  including  H.  Sturmey,  editor  of  the  Cyclist^  who  testified  that,  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  firm  of  Iliffe  &  Sturmey,  "  he  was  interested  in  the  proprietorship  of  several  cycling 
publications,"  and  "drew  commission  on  work  introduced  to  Iliffe  &  Son."  The  object  o£ 
forcing  this  admission  was  to  justify  Mr.  M.'s  charge  of  "jobbery  in  the  award  of  printing  con- 
tracts "  ;  for  the  lilffes  print  the  Gazette  and  other  issues  of  the  C.  T.  C.  (though,  in  notaUe 
contrast  to  the  almost  universal  custom  in  England,  and  to  their  own  custom  in  all  other  cases, 
they  omit  their  imprint  from  the  final  page),  and  Mr.S.  was  a  member  of  the  "  C.  T.  C.  Council/* 
whose  rules  forbid  the  award  of  any  contract  to  a  firm  in  which  one  of  themselves  is  interested. 
This  "  jobbery  "  does  not  necessarily  imply  any  corruption  or  unfair  dealing  in  the  case,  but  it 
explains  why  the  Cyclist ^  Bi.  News,  and  other  publications  controlled  by  the  lliffes  (or  "  Cov- 
entry ring  ")  studiously  support  the  C  T.  C.  Gazette  in  the  policy  of  "  suppression,  division 
and  silence."  None  of  those  prints  has  ever  contained  the  facts  here  related,  though  the 
London  Times  deemed  them  imp>ortant  enough  to  include  in  its  law-courts  reports  of  Nov.  23, 
together  with  the  scorching  reprimand  which  Mr.  Justice  Wills  administered  to  the  "  Sec-Ed.'* 
(in  refusing  to  tolerate  him  longer  as  a  plaintiff  in  his  court),  "  for  having  indulged  in  the  lowest 
and  vulgarcsl  abuse  of  the  worst  form  of  journalism."  IVkeeling  of  Nov.  24  and  Dec.  x  also 
reproduced  the  remarks  of  the  indignant  judge  ;  and  I  myself  liave  taken  pains  to  proclaim  them 
in  this  country  {Bulletin,  Dec.  31,  p.  635;  IVh.  G.iz.,  Feb.,  p.  178,  Apr.,  p.  18;  /?/.  World, 
Mar.  25;  lyheel,  Mar.  11,  Apr.  8,  29;  CanadLin  Wheelman,  May,  p.  75),  in  order  to  warn 
Americans  against  sending  over  any  more  subscriptions  in  support  of  the  concern,  so  long  as  it 
continues  in  the  control  of  a  self-confessed  forger.  Faiih  in  him,  however,  seems  not  yet  to  be 
lost  by  the  Boston  Englishman  who  gave  the  C.  T.  C.  its  first  foothold  in  this  country  (p.  643), 
for  he  has  just  "actively  resumed  the  duties  of  its  Chief  Consulship  in  the  U.  S.,*'  after  an- 
nouncing (5/.  World,  Apr.  i,  p.  386)  that,  as  regards  the  likelihood  of  sending  the  forger  into 
retirement,  he  "  doss  not  believe  that  the  decision  of  the  club  will  be  influenced  in  the  slightest 
by  the  scurrilous  attacks  "  made  by  Mr.  Justice  Wills,  in  metaphorically  kicking  him  out  of 
court,  last  November.  Wheeling's  leading  editorial  of  Jan.  26 — while  protesting  against  his 
policy  that  "  everything  undertaken  by  the  club  should  be  with  the  idea  of  making  money  out  of 
it,"  and  demanding  his  "  immediate  removal  from  the  position  of  editor,  in  which  he  has  proved 
a  conspicuous  failure,"— likewise  said  :  "As  secretary,  he  is  emphatically  the  right  man  in  the 
right  place,  and  it  would  be  im^wssible  to  find  a  belter  one  anywhere.'*  Yet  the  writers  of  that 
paper  are  never  tired  of  making  sarcastic  comments  on  his  minor  weaknesses  and  dishonesties,— 
such  as  his  trying  to  palm  off  at  a  good  stiff  price  the  new  badge,  "  pirated  "  from  the  patented 
emblem  of  the  L.  A.  W.  (p.  639),  even  though  that  body's  Executive  Committee  were  ordered, 
at  the  Doard  meeting  of  Jan.  18,  '87,  to  protest  against  such  discreditable  appropriation  of  its 
property.  The  Giizette  of  Apr.,  '87,  offers  three  columns  of  comment  and  testimony  to  prove  the 
"  marvelous  popularity  "  of  this  theft,  which  it  calls  an  "  invention,"  saying  :  "  No  decision  of 
modern  times  has  given  half  as  much  satisfaction  as  that  of  the  Badge  Committee.'*  It  says, 
also,  that  the  first  plnn  of  swinging  this  trumpery  gewgaw  by  a  chain  from  a  bar-brooch  has 
proved  so  unpopubr  that  there  has  been  substituted  for  it  "  a  fastening  of  new  design/'— which 
novelty,  Wliecling  declares,  was  "  stolen  from  Vaughton." 

The  same  paper  of  Mar.  16,  also  prepared  from  the  misleading  jumble  of  official  figures  in 
that  month's  Gazette,  "  a  statement  of  C.  T.  C.  finances  for  '86,"— similar  to  its  tables  for  '85, 
summarized  on  p.  641,— showing  a  profit  of  ;?5257  <>"  the  sales  of  uniforms  for  ;^34>545>  a»da 
loss  of  ^8500  on  •'  the  magazine  in  which  its  editor  can  vilify  its  enemies  and  amiable  lunatics 
can  write  twaddle."  The  Gazette  cost  5^9101  for  printing  and  %i\<fo  for  postage  (or  a  total,  with 
|k  1000  assumed  for  clerical  expenses,  of  #15,297) ;  while  its  income  from  adv.,  "  after  deducting  the 
Sec-Ed. 's  commission  of  $f/>7/' was  $6809.  Though  adv.  receipts  were  nearly  1^2000  greater 
than  in  *85,  the  net  loss  was  $1670  greater.  The  "  total  expenditures  in  the  cause  of  cydmg  '* 
were  $7.70  for  danger-boards  (as  compared  to  $55  in  '85),  a  gift  of  $125  to  the  I.  C.  A.  road  fund. 


ADDENDA:   LONDON  ASSURANCE.  xciii 

and  I64  for  Cotterell  fund.  "  These  accounts  prove  that,  except  as  a  trading  concern,  the  C.  T. 
C  cannot  live,  and,  even  with  a  large  profit  in  this  respect,  the  Mammoth  Bluff  is  stiU  losing 
money.  The  N.  C.  U.,  despite  all  faults,  is  in  every  way  its  superior, — being,  by  contrast, 
essentially  unselfish,  and  conferring  benefits  upon  its  members  and  non-members  alike  "  ( \y heel- 
ings Mar.  23).  An  adv.  in  the  TimtSt  by  the  "  Sec.-£d.,"  dated  Mar.  36,  and  asking  the  Board 
of  Trade  "  to  inccHporate  the  C.  T.  C  without  the  word  '  limited,' "  in  spite  of  former  refusal 
(p.  642),  was  quoted  by  Wheeling  of  Apr.  13,  with  the  remark  that  neither  the  Gazette^  Cyclist 
nor  BL  News  had  mentioned  it,  though  its  legal  object  was  to  warn  all  objectors  that  they  must 
make  their  reasons  of  opposition  known  "  on  or  before  Apr.  25."  The  Cycling  Journal  of 
same  week  in  commenting  on  the  adv.,  said  :  "  When  S.  Ineson,  a  former  treasurer,  absconded 
with  the  club's  funds,  he  did  so  with  impunity ;  because  the  club,  not  being  an  incorporated 
society,  could  not  have  prosecuted  him,  even  if  he  could  have  been  apprehended.  Curiously 
enough,  the  man  himself  had  been  the  earliest  one  to  suggest  the  incorporation."  Considering 
how  even  a  man  whose  reputation  for  honesty  was  generally  accepted  would,  as  publisher  of  a 
monthly  trade-circular  like  the  GazeiU,  be  subject  to  many  suspicions  of  secretly  selling  out  its 
columns  to  tradesman  for  his  own  gain, — ^the  retention  in  such  position  of  a  forger,  six  months 
after  his  public  expulsion  from  court,  seems  a  striking  sign  of  the  slowness  and  apathy  and  low 
mofal-tone  of  the  sort  of  Englishmen  who  support  the  C.  T.  C.  The  eager  indignation  with 
which  American  wheelmen  threw  overboard /Ar/r  unworthy  "  Sec-Ed.,"  whose  defalcation  had 
di^raced  the  L.  A.  W.,  seems  all  the  more  creditable  by  force  of  the  contrast.  Yet  it  is  a  fact 
that  the  chief  upholder  of  the  English  concern  in  America  had  the  assurance  to  address  three 
colomns  of  argument  to  them  in  the  Bulletin  of  December  31,  uiging  that  it  had  some  claim  up- 
on their  support  "  because  of  its  spirit  of  unselfishness^^*  and  that,  if  it  is  fortunate  enough  to 
retain  the  services  of  the  noble  "  Sec-Ed.,"  whom  Mr.  Justice  Wills  exposed  to  the  world  as  a 
foiger,  it  nuy  finally  expand  into  a  "  grand  C.  T.  C.  universal."  His  "  scheme  for  international 
devebpmeni  of  C.  T.  C."  was  formulated  in  Bi.  lV<frldoi  Mar.  ji,  and  reproduced  on  the 
first  five  pages  of  the  April  Gazette.  "  Working  details  are  to  be  filled  in  later,"  he  says,  as  is 
apt  to  be  the  custom  in  cases  of  such  grandeur. 


Testimony  to  the  lower  "  average  morality  "  and  sodal  standing  of  F.nglish  wheelmen  in 
oompari&on  to  American — as  illustrated  by  the  ability  of  a  self-confessed  fuiger  to  keep  himself 
in  command  among  the  former,  with  an  ease  which  seems  surprising  to  the  latter— was  given  in 
a  letter  to  the  Cyclist  (Feb.  20,  '87,  p.  457),  by  J.  S.  Whatton,— a  Camb.  grad.  of  '84  whose  biog. 
is  on  p.  544, — saying  :  "  The  N.  C.  U.  appears  curiously  unable  to  attract  the  '  leisured  class,' 
and  especially  so  in  the  centers.  The  non-club  members  of  it  are  either  utterly  careless  of  cy- 
cling politics,  or  they  are  misinformed  and  consequently  wrong-headed."  Maj.  Gen.  L.  R. 
Christopher  and  G.  H.  W.  Courtney  were  chosen  to  represent  these  non-club  members  on  the 
Executive,  at  the  annual  election  of  Feb.  3,  '87,  when  the  votes  which  chose  the  16  regular 
members  thereof  stood  as  follows :  M.  D.  Kucker,  loa ;  G.  P.  Coleman,  99 ;  R.  L.  Philpot, 
94 ;  F.  G.  Dray,  91 ;  G.  H.  Green,  91 ;  A.  Front,  89,  R.  E.  Phillips,  88 ;  —  F.  Thomas,  89 ; 
W.J.  Harvey,  88;  E.  B.  Turner,  87;  H.  F.  Wilson,  87;  T.  Pulton,  77;  S.  B.  Mason,  71; 
F.  Lindsay-Simpson,  71 ;  T.  H.  Holding,  64  ;  E.  Sherriff.  64.  The  7  names  before  the  dash 
represent  the  only  men  of  the  old  board  who  were  re-elected,— being  a  minority  of  all,— and  the 
J  lowest  on  the  list  gained  places  there  only  by  the  throwing  out  of  35  proxy  votes  from  Liverpool 
and  Glasgow,  because  these  were  known  to  be  pledged  to  3 opponents  of  "amateurism,"  whose 
aaoal  votes  stood  thus:  F.  P.  Low,  41;  H.  Etherington,  35;  J.  G.  Smith,  32.  Among  the 
9  men  dropped  from  the  old  board  was  the  "  Sec. -Ed.  of  C.  T.  C,"  who  took  pains  to  assert 
that  he  "  had  received  votes  enough  for  a  renomination  but  declined  to  stand,"  and  who  was 
formally  praised  by  the  '*  Sec.  of  N.  C.  U."  as  "  a  gentleman  to  whom  the  Union  had  been 
greatly  indebted  in  many  ways,"  though  he  himself  was  one  of  the  lawyers  that  brought  him  to 
book  for  forgery  on  the  memorable  Nov.  22.  The  Sec  himself,  R.  Todd,  on  motion  of  his 
kmg-time  censor,  W.  McCandlish,  of  Wheeling ^  "received  a  unanimous  vote  of  confidence,  ami^ 


xciv         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

loud  applause/*  and  was  re-elected  with  the  other  three  officers :  Lord  Bury,  Prea. ;  W.  B. 
Tanner,  V.  Pres.,  A.  K.  Sheppee,  Treas.  The  latter's  **  financial  scheme  "  was  adopted  ai  a 
council-meeting  of  Apr.  2t,  with  only  5  dissenting  votes  from  among  the  70  delegates  present, 
while  the  proxy  votes  were  also  in  its  favor,  52  to  13.  The  scheme  orders  the  Executive  to  in- 
corporate the  following  changes  in  their  rules  :  "  (i)  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, 
(3)  That  affiliated  dubs  shall  subscribe  |2.62  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  $2.63  for  every  25  members 
or  portion  thereof.  (3)  That  Local  Centers  shall  retain  $1.37  per  1(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  club  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  rescission  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  b,  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  s}>ort  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  :  *'  (3)  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  %^h.  (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  IVheeling,  Jan.  26),  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  Wheeling  series 
(by  J.  R.  Hogg,  see  p.  649)  which  so  cleverly  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  worthy  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  suspicion  of  ha^ng  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  social  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." 
lettres  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  Wheeling  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 
ridiculous.  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  121  to  38  the  Liverpool  men*s  attack  on  "amateurism,"  immediately  put  through 


ADDENDA:    LONDON  ASSURANCE.  xcv 

a  Iwtvthirds  vote  to  rescind  the  decree  of  the  la»t  previous  meeting,  Dec.  9,  which  had  by  a 
bore  majority  reduced  the  allowable  maximum  value  of  prizes  from  1^52  to  1^36.  The  author 
of  this  I  eduction  was  W.  McCandiish,  of  It'' fueling ;  who  thus  proved  anew  the  hollowness  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. 
was  dissolved,  Mar.  i,  and  this  act  represented  the  withdrawal  of  about  1000  men;  the  leader 
of  whom  declares  that  if  the  Council  dares  to  go  on  in  its  avowed  policy  of  suspension,  "  there 
wf!l  be  two  sets  of  championships  fought  out  in  England  on  identical  days ;  otherwise,  sport 
must  cease  to  exist."  These  words  are  from  his  letter  10  Whreling  ol  Apt.  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  th;ir  wheels  and  loolc  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  bs  run  at  Birmingham  (.May  30,  July  2,  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  utterly  ignored  in  pursuit  of  the  one  object  of  money- 
gaining,  and  it  looks  very  much  as  though  the  Executive  had  been  iilfluenced  by  a  desire  to 
cement  the  loyalty  of  the  Birmingham  Local  Center,  by  this  exceptional  favor  "  So  says  the 
Cycling  Journal  of  Mar.  35 ;  to  which  the  Cyclist  of  Mar.  30  responds  thus  :  "  Tlie  fact  re- 
mains that,  as  th2  C.  T.  C.  finds  its  uniform  department  to  be  indispensable,  so  the  Union, 
under  the  present  circumsLinces,  must  have  funds  from  its  championships,  and  these  funds  must 
be  a  certainty."  Its  total  income  in  '86  was  #1725  and  its  expenses  exceeded  this  by  $845,  ex- 
clusive of  a  loss  of  $750  ciused  by  running  the  championships  according  to  "  amateurism  "  (see 
p.  648).  Of  its  income,  1^225  came  from  racing-permits  and  entry-forms,  and  the  rest  from  mem- 
bership fees,  exclusive  of  the  half  wliich  the  Local  Centers  retained  forborne  use,  by  rule  on  p.648. 
The  treastirer'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  $350  to  %%oo^—<in  account  of  the  secession  of  many  impor- 
tant clubs, — a  total  deficit  of  at  least  S500.  Whether  the  new  scheme  of  Increasing  the  fees 
from  25  c.  to  %\.2%  will  prove  popular  enough  to  save  the  Union  from  threatened  dissolution, 
experience  only  can  decide.  Wheeling's  plan  of  a  racing  register,  requiring  an  entry  fee  of 
$1.25  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 
one  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  formeriy  to  matters  outside  of  racing.  Thus,  as  regards  repressive  loqil  by-laws  they 
say :  "  If  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  474lh  page,  written  in  Dec,  '85,  says :  "  '  From  San  Francisco  to  Teheran,* 
a  simple  reprint  of  the  Ouiing  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  first 


jccvi  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

volume  of  the  latter  is  to  be  published  this  May  by  the  Scribners,  of  N.  Y.,  having  the  former 
phrase  as  an  ahemativc  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  arc  identical  with  those  employed  in  Outing.  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  laigc  and  dear,  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.  Tlie  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  ist  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  announce  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  welcoms  ;  and  he  Mras  lioniz?d  with  great  heartiness  at 
several  other  points,  until  at  last  he  reached  N.  Y.,  Feb.  13,  where  the  Citizens  B.  C.  had 
arranged  a  batiquet  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  iS  "  ought  to  read  "  14  '*),  is  not  to  be  printed,  though  extracts  may  be  occasionally  used,  as 
in  the  series  of  four  pieces  for  HarJ^r^s  Young  People.  By  invitation  of  local  wheelmen,  he 
has  delivered  lectures  at  Scranton,  Apr.  12  ;  Brooklyn,  i6th  ;  Washington,  20th  ;  Auburn,  aad; 
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  '87-8,  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),  I  am  glad  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.  Vambrfry  making  the  great  pilgrimage  as 
a  dirvish,  Burnaby  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  inhereiit  interest,  this  bicycle  trip  round  the  world  will  pretty  certainly  remain  unequaled 
in  our  lime  "  {Pall  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  StancLvrd).  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 

trareler  was  facing  his  greatest  dangeni,  the  following  foot-note  to  a  letter  in  C.  T.  C.  GeuetU 
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 
dunce  to  say  :  **  Refers  to  Stevens,  who  is  carrying  out  an  advertising  ride  for  the  American 
joomol  Outing.'''*  As  regards  that  magasine  itself,  the  following  letter  was  received  by  me  from 
ill  chief  editor.  Mar.  19,  in  correction  of  my  remark  on  p.  660  :  "  In  Dec,  '85,  Col.  Pope  sold 
the  controlHng  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  of  directors  ol  the  Outing  Co.:  P.  Bigelow,  pres.  and  ed.;  W.  H.  Schumacher,  sec. 
and  treas.;  T.  Stevens,  C.  E.  Clay,  C.  B.  Vaux,  Le  Grand  Benedict.  All  of  these  are  wheel- 
men  except  the  last,~the  advertising  manager,~and  he  has  a  son  now  in  coUege  who  rides  the 
bicycle.  In  addition  to  (his  office  suff.  Outing  is  assisted  by  an  outside  body  of  s'pecialists,  on 
sponing  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  iu  pages,  we  may  safely  predict  for  Outing  a  permanent  career  of  increasing 
oacfulneas  in  its  special  field." 

"  Pedal  and  Path  "  (33  chapters,  250  pp.,  about  140,000  words,  2$  or  30  engravings,  price 
75c. ;  Hartford  :  Ths  Evening  Pott  Association,  June,  '87)  is  ths  title  finally  adopted  for  the 
book  which  I  have  indexed  on  p.  Ixxv.  as  "  From  Ocean  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 

00  his  own  aoooimt  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.  13.  He  rode  the  bone-shaker  in  '7o-'73 ;  first 
mounted  the  bi.  in  '83  ;  rode  1047  ti-  in  '84,  ind.  a  day's  run  of  100  m.  to  New  Haven  and  back  ; 
and  3564  m.  in  '85,  ind.  June  tour  of  175  m.  along  the  Sound,  Sept.  tour  of  480  m.  through  R. 
I.,  and  Oct.  and  Nov.  tour  of  1300  m.  through  White  Mtn's  (p.  576).  He  had  only  3  falls  in  '85, 
when  be  rode  13S6  m.  without  a  fall,  1V96  m.  in  3  months,  and  801  m.  in  38  days.  His  '86  tour 
began  at  Vernon,  Apr.  10,  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 
cydoro.,  a  corduroy  suh  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  its  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 
kogesi  straightaway  was  from  Vernon  to  Omaha,  nearty  1900  m.  He  there  took  train  to  Den- 
ver, and  afterwards  used  both  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  in  exploring  California  and  Oregon,  and  on  homeward 
trip,  as  he  joanieyed  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  diffsred  notably  from 
two  other  cross-continent  riders  of  '86,  who  were  commisdoned  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.  The 
firatof  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- 
eiy,  New  Orleans,  Houston,  and  Tucson,  to  Yuma  (Ariz),  Aug.  18,  when  he  reported  3313  m. 
wheeled  in  the  loS  days  from  N.  Y.,  and  said  he  expected  to  reach  San  Francisco  on   Sept.  10. 

1  bdieve  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 
'•S  ever  allude  to  his  "  tour  from  N.  Y.  to  Denver  and  back,"  which  the  papers  of  '86  vaRuely 
accredited  him  with  having  taken  then.  The  other  '86  long-distance  man  employed  by  the 
Popes  wa»S.  G.  Spier  (b.  Nov.  9,  '64),  of  New  Lebanon,  N.  Y.,  who  started  from  Albany 
June  I  and  reached  San  Frandsco  Sept.  9,— adhering  pretty  dosely  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  priat  it  for  want  of  space.  I  think  he  really  covered  the  distance,  but  his  mileage  figures  are 
entixdy  untnutwortby,  though  professedly  taken  from  Church  cydom.,  which  Salt  Lake  City 


xcviii       TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

men  report  t»  me  as  out  of  order  at  that  point.  The  BL  World  of  Oct.  23  (p.  592)  pnnted  a 
"  claim  "  from  him,  as  having  rid(l<:n  21 1  m.  io  la  h.  ai  Oakland,  C;il.,  Sept.  16,  and  again  113  m. 
in  13  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  nukes  as  "  the  best."  A 
tourist  who  followed  his  trail  through  the  Mohiwk  valley,  a  week  later,  has  also  perpetuated 
the  memory  of  his  boastf ulness,  in  the  second  of  a  scries  of  agreeably  humorous  sketches  (  Wh, 
GnM,^  Aug.  to  Nov.),  called"  From  the  Hub  to  Hoosierdom."  This  was  P.  C.  Danow(b. 
Mar.,  '61),  an  Indianapolis  printer,  5  ft.  10  in.  high,  weight  140  lbs.,  who  had  lidden  800  m.  on  a  4S 
in.  Star  in  '85,  and  800  m.  on  a  54  in.  Expert  in  *8S,  previous  to  June  2,  when  he  began  at  Boston 
a  homeward  tour  of  about  950  m.  in  19  days.  Tlic  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  ra.,  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  **  Cyding"  (Lou- 
den :  Longmans,  Green  &  Co.,  10  s.  6  d.),  in  the  series  known  as  Badminton  Library  of  Sports 
and  Pastimes ;  see  p.  6S7.  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 
ductoiy  (by  Lord  Bury,  very  generally  praised) ;  historical ;  riding  ;  radng ;  touring ;  training ; 
dress ;  dubs ;  tricycling  for  ladies ;  radng  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  125pp.,  i^om  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  otf  the  sport  yet  issued  "  {,Cyc.  J<mr., 
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.  News^  Apr.  3).  '*  The  price 
b  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  cyding  "  {Cyciat,  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  <&•  AthleU^  Apr.  13X 
"  The  book  is  the  best  that  has  yet  been  issued,  and  is  honestly  worth  the  10  s.  6  d.  charged 
for  it "  {Wheeliftg,  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  "  {Bi.  World,  May  13).  The  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  Journal  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  offidal  him- 
self "  ;— whence  it  would  appear  that  the  Viscount  Ukes  a  more  jocose  view  of  literary  foixery 
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.  Nnvs  and  of  the  cyding  dept.  of  Land  ^  Wafer,  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  (I.ondon  :  S. 
Ia)W,  Marslon  &  Co.;  about  250  pp. ;  illust.;  50  c),  will  probably  appear  eariy  in  June.  His 
biog.  is  given  on  p.  54$,  and  he  first  gained  notoriety  in  the  cyding  world  by  winning  the  $350 
prise  offered  by  Til  Bits,  a  London  penny-paper,  for  the  best  story  of  adventures  on  the  wheel, 
--printed  Dec  4f  *86.    As  reproduced  at  Boston,  in  the  CyeWs  final  issue,  Jan.  ai,  it  covered 


ADDENDA:    BOOKS.  xcix 

•  trifle  more  than  two  pases.  A  similar  spacs  was  given  by  HTkegiifigr,  Dec  19,  to  the  unsac- 
cessfuJ  narrative  of  A.  M.  BoUon  (p.  549)i  "  believed  to  be  the  only  cycling  journalist  of  the 
metropoUs  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  Cyc/tsi  of 
Jan.  Si  defending  his  prize-piece  from  ibe  charge  of  Munchausenbm,  Mr.  C.  alluded  to  the  re- 
pon  of  one  of  his  tours  as  liaving  been  printed  in  the  FuiUi^Ozi,  z6,  2$,  %o ;  Nov.  13);  and  it 
elsewhere  appears  that  in  '85  he  drove  his  52  in.  Challenge  1 100  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 
put  wi.l  tell  of  my  'd6  ride  from  Hamburg  to  the  i£gean  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  Belgiumi  when  I  sl^pt  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,  1  last  year  used 
Uuderwood's,  because  it  is  the  lightest.  It  dropped  o£E  after  1400  m,  were  done ;  but  the  med- 
duDg  of  inquisitive  hands  doubtless  had  somethmg  to  do  with  its  failure." 

The  lliffes,  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 
ttyle  is  unconventional  and  quite  free  from  political  allusions.  A  half-dosen  full-page  litho- 
Kraphs  by  G.  Moore  are  inserted,  and  there  are  a  dozen  lesser  pictures  in  the  text,  which  covers 
58  pp.,  8^  by  6i  in.,  and  is  accompanied  by  17  pp.  of  adv.  The  same  publishers,  author  and 
price  are  to  be  recorded  for  "  Th:  PUasores,  Objects  and  Advantages  of  Cycling,"  whose  Jan. 
adv.  called  it  *'  the  most  interesting  and  highly  illustrated  cycling  work  yet  published."  Its 
sine  chapter-titles  are  as  follows  :  Why  cycling  captivates ;  the  history  of  cycles  and  cycling ;  my 
experiences  of  Safety  bicyc'ing ;  ths  utilitarian  aspect  of  cycling ;  cycling  as  a  pastime ;  cycle 
radog ;  curiosities  of  cycling ;  a  charming  Tandem  spin ;  the  literature  of  cycling.  (For  author's 
biog.  see  p.  534.)  Late  in  '86,  the  Iliff ^s  issued  "Abridgments  of  Patents  Relating  to  Veloci- 
pedes, 181S  to  1S83,"  by  R.  E.  Phillips  (see  pp.  550,  683),  strongly  bound  in  cloth,  at 
IS ;  and  they  announce  in  preparation  a  second  volume,  covering  the  patents  of  the  year  'Af, 
wfaen  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 
ls.25,  which  was  the  advance  subscription  price  of  the  bound  copies.  "  Cycledom  :  the 
Christmas  Number  and  Year  Book  of  th ^  Cyclist  for  1886-7,"  wras  perhaps  the  most  eUborate 
and  costly  amount  of  such  material  ever  offered  for  a  shil.ing,  for  it  contains  114  pp.,  ix  by  8 
in.,  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- 
tides those  whidi  are  incorporated  with  the  text  of  the  calendars  themselves.  The  "funny 
business"  customary  with  such  prints  covers  65  pp.,  and  most  of  the  remainder  is  given  to 
practical  statistics,  of  the  sort  which  used  to  appear  in  the  "  Cyclist  and  Wheel  W(W/«b/ Annual," 
sncfa  as  racing  records ;  officers,  dates  and  uniforms  of  clubs ;  and  "  brief  biographies  of  more 
than  150  of  the  men  best  known  in  cycling  drdes."  (The  latter  annual's  final  issue  was  in  Jan., 
'85,  and  its  earlier  ones  continued  the  series  bsgun  by  "  Icyclcs  "  in  '80;  seep.  692.)  An 
iliuroinated  lithographic  cover  and  a  dozen  wood-cuts  characterize  the  "  Christmas  number  of 
the  Irish  Cyclist  and  Athlete  "  edited  by  R.  J.  Mecredy  and  printed  by  A.  &  E.  Cahiil,  Dublin 
(68  pp.,  incl.  36  adv.  pp.),  which  sells  for  sixpenc3.  The  same  price  attaches  to  "  Chestnuts, 
or  the  Wheeling  Sandford  and  Merton,  by  W.  McCandlish  and  F.  Percy  Low "  (pub.  at 
Christmas,  *56,  by  H.  Etherington,  152  Fleet  St.),  an  octavo  whose  50  pp.  of  letterpress  form  a 
narrathre  of  10  chapters,  and  are  flanked  by  60  adv.  pp.  The  Birmingham  weekly,  Sport  ^ 
Play,  made  a  first  attempt  at  a  Christmas  number  in  *S6,  which  Wheeling  A'isx^MeA  as  "  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  pennyworths  of  the  year,' with  its  amusing  skit  by  Tom  Moore,  which 
should  be  in  the  hands  of  all  interested  in  c>'cling  politics."  "A  London  Physician's  "  pamphlet, 
"  the  Cyclist's  Pocket  Guide,  giving  practical  hints  for  the  amateur,  and  good  advice  for  all " 
(Iliffcs),  was  aOuded  to  approvingly  by  Whteting  oi  Oct.  30 ;  and  that  paper  of  Nov.  24  named 


c  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  following  as  supplied  for  13  c.  by  the  Coventry  Machinists*  Co.,  15  Holborn  Viaduct :  *'  *A 
Sufferer's  Experience  of  Rheumaiic  Gout,'  the  author  of  which,  after  having  been  afflirt«w<  inth 
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  Comhill ;  50  c.)  was  recxMS- 
mended  by  CycliU  of  Dec  22,  as  a  new  issue,  "  showing  roads,  footpaths,  parks,  woods,  com- 
mons, and  rails,  as  >itell  as  the  distances  and  heights  above  the  sea  level,"  on  a  scale  of  |  m.  to  i 
in.  Its  size  is  43  by  32  in.,  folding  in  a  cloth  case  %\  by  4^  in."  The  popularity  of  G.  K.  Yoong*s 
"  Liverpool  Cyclists'  Guide  "  (see  pp.  556,  636)  is  testified  to  by  the  fact  that  the  sixth  editioo, 
for  '87,  is  threatened  with  a  rival,  which  his  former  printers  announce  in  preparation,  with 
almost  identical  mzX.mA{W fueling  ^  May  4).  "  Handbook  on  Training  for  Athletic  Exercises," 
by  W.  E.  Morden  (E.  Seale,  Imperial  Arcade,  Ludgate  Hill ;  25  c),  was  mildly  praised  in  BL 
Nevus  of  Jan.  29 ;  and  "Athlete's  Guide  "  {Pastime  Pub.  Co.,  28  Paternoster  Row ;  25  c),  ed. 
by  N.  L.  Jackson  and  E.  H.  Goodbold,  was  called  "  extremely  valuable  "  in  Wheeling  oi  May 
4.  The  second  book  "  contains  a  full  table  of  all  British  amateur  records,"  and  its  chapter  00 
"  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 
JUust.  Sporting  iSr*  Dramatic  News  of  Apr.  30,  and  will  doubtless  be  reproduced  in  book  form. 
The  BL  News  of  Apr.  30  praised  the  neatly-printed  and  leather-bound  dub-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  ft 
Co.,  of  192  High  Holborn;  written  by  T.  S.  Lonsdale;  music  composed  by  C.  H.  Chirgwin. 
The  Cyclist  of  Jan.  36  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.  687,  '*  was  the  most  complete  and  per- 
fect annual  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  san^ 
"  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  BL  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).  lo 
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  Rich  wine  Bros.,  Phila.,  is  adv.  by  the /iMrricaA  Athlete  ol 
Apr.  30,  whose  ed.  offers  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  cyders  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  site, 
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  on 
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 


ADDENDA:    BOOKS.  •  oi 

deaeribed  on  p.  680,— being  stroply  a  series  of  humorous  obeervalions  of  travel  by  train.  A 
wheelmen's  map  of  Worcester,  Ms.,  is  now  distributed  gratis  by  Hill&  Tolman,  cyde  dealers. 
C  M.  Richards  has  postponed  for  a  year  the  pamphlet  of  "  Instructions  "  noted  on  p.  678.  At 
about  the  middle  of  Apr.,  the  Orange  Wanderers  (N.  J.)  voted  that  the  club  sliould  publish  a 
pamphlet  '*  on  the*advantages  of  good  roads  and  the  proper  construction  and  maintenance  of  the 
same."  Four  works  on  this  general  subject  were  thus  catalogued  by  a  writer  in  Bulletin  of 
Nov.  12  :  **  Roads  and  Streets,"  by  Law  &  Clark  (Wcale's  Series,  London,  '61  and  '77  *.  N.  Y., 
'67) ;  "  Roads,  Streets  &  Pavements,"  by  Q.  A.  Gillmore,  Brev.  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  A.  (N.  Y.  : 
D.  Yap  Nostrand  &  Co.,  '76) ;  "  Engineering  Notes,"  by  F.  Robertson  (London  and  N.  Y., 
'73) ;  "  Construction  and  Maintenance  of  Roads,"  by  E.  P.  North,  C.  £.  (in  "  Transactions  of 
American  Society  of  Civil  Engineering,"  YoL  YIIL,  May,  1879). 


JouKNAUSM. — ^The  following  is  a  complete  list  of  the  16  cycling  papers  now  published  in 
America  (May  4,  '87),  arranged  in  order  of  their  age,  with  date  of  first  number  of  each,  names 
of  editors  and  publishers,  and  places  of  issue.  The  weeklies  are  marked  "  w."  and  the  month- 
ties  "  m.'* — the  former's  price  being  $1  and  the  latter'sso  c,  unless  otherwise  shown  :  Bicycling' 
W^rld,  w.,  Nov.  15,  '79;  C.  W.  Fourdrinier  and  J.  S.  Dean;  B.  W.  Pub.  Co.,  12  Pearl  »t., 
Boston.  Ms.  Wheel,  w.,  Sept.  35,  '80;  F.  P.  Prial,  23  Park  Row,  N.  Y.  IVheelmen's  Ga- 
aette,  m.,  Apr.,  '83 ;  H.  E.  Ducker,  Springfield,  Ms.  Canadian  Wheelman,  m.  (#1),  Sept., 
'83;  J.  S.  Brierley;  C.  W.  A.  Pub.  Co.,  London,  Ont.  Bicycle  South,  ra.,  Dec,  '84;  H.  P. 
Seiferth ;  Hunter  &  Genslinger,  1 16  Gravier  st.  New  Orleans,  La.  Star  Advocate,  m..  Mar. , 
*&$ ;  E.  H.  Corson,  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  L.A.  W.  Bulletin,  w. ,  July  2,  '85 ;  A.  Bassett ;  Ex. 
Com.  L.  A.  W. ;  22  School  St.,  Boston,  Ms.  American  Wheelman,  m.,  Aug.,  '85;  L.  S.  C. 
Ladish ;  A.  W.  Pub.  Co.,  loS  N.  Fourth  St.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  Bicycle,  m.  (12  c),  Apr.,  86  ;  L. 
P.  Thayer,  West  Randolph,  Yt.  Pacific  Wheelman,  w.,  Sept.,  '86;  Crandall  Bros.,  339  Bush 
SL,  San  Frandsco,  Cal.  Bicycle  Herald &*  Evangelist,  m.  (15c.),  Sept.,  '86 ;  H.  A.  King ;  King 
Wheel  Co.,  51  Barclay  St.,  N.  Y.  Minnesota  Division,  ro.,  Nov.,  '86;  E.  C.  Smith,  Winona, 
Minn.  Wheelmen^  Record,  w.,  Jan.  6,  '87;  G.  S.  &  P.  C.  Darrow;  W.  R.  Co.,  25  Sentinel 
Building,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  L.  A.  W.  Pointer,  m.,  Apr.,  '87;  J.  A.  Hinman;  L.  A.  W.  P. 
Pub.  Co.,  Oshkosh,  Wis.  Wheel  News,  w.  (70  c),  Apr.  1,  '87;  N.  L.  Collamer,  47  St.  Cloud 
Building,  Washington,  D.  C.  Oregon  Cyclist,  Apr.,  '87 ;  F.  T.  Merrill,  14s  Fifth  St.,  Portland, 
Or.  No  price  is  attached  to  the  last-named,  nor  notice  as  to  when  the  future  numbers  will 
appear ;  but,  as  it  is  "entered  at  the  post  office  as  second-class  matter,"  such  numbers  seem  to 
be  intended.  It  has  33  pp.,  of  standard  size, — letterpress  and  adv.  alternating, — ^anda  profile 
portrait  of  the  editor  and  proprietor  is  framed  in  the  "  O  "  of  the  heading.  As  regards  this, 
foregoing  brief  adv.  of  the  whole  American  press,  I  urge  that  it  ought  to  be  given  free  insertion 
not  only  in  every  American  book  and  pamphlet  devoted  to  cycling,  but  in  every  trade-catalogue 
or  price-list  which  cny  American  cycle  dealer  may  issue.  "  Intelligent  selfishness,"  and  "  the 
law  of  reciprocation  "  may  both  be  said  to  demand  this  policy  (as  I  explain  on  pp.  653,  718) ; 
but  I  believe' the  only  catalogues  of '87  whose  makers  have  yielded  to  my  many  printed  and 
written  arguments  for  granting  such  slight  favor  to  the  press  are  those  of  the  Gormully  & 
Jeffery  Co.,  and  A.  G.  Spalding  &  Brother,  both  of  Chicago. 

The  rapid  change,  if  not  also  growth,  characteristic  of  cycling  journalism,  is  well  shown  by 
the  amoont  of  '*  additions  and  corrections  "  needed  to  produce  the  foregoing  list  of  16  from  the 
similar  one  of  i a  compiled  nine  months  earlier  for  p.  654.  Three  of  those  12  have  died ;  and 
none  of  the  3  ever  seemed  to  have  as  good  a  field,  or  to  show  as  many  signs  of  prosperity  and 
longevity,  as  must  be  accredited  to  the  Wheelmen^ s  Record,  of  Indianapolis, — the  most  promis- 
ing one  of  the  7  which  have  sprung  up  within  the  three-quarters  of  a  year.  "  Bom  in  a  job- 
printing  office  on  the  6th  of  Jan.,  it  began  growing  and  expanding  in  a  way  that  astonished  its 
friends."  Such  is  the  statement  of  its  i6lh  issue  (Apr.  21),  in  announcing  removal  to  a  new 
ofifice,  from  the  original  cramped  quarters  at  35  W.  Market  St.,  as  having  been  forced  by  the 
swiftness  of  its  growth.    A  week  later,  it  advertised  in  preparation  a  "  special  number  for  the 


cii  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

League  meet  at  St.  Louift,  giving  in  advance  a  burlesque  account  of  that  gathering,  as  a  sort  of 
souvenir"  (16  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  on  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  Wh.^  Gau.  ;  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  Illinob 
Division  that  subscriptions  from  members  thereof  shall  be  accepted  at  the  reduced  rate  of  75  c, 
in  consideration  of  the  officers'  supplying  their  earliest  official  news  to  the  Record.  ('i*hose  ofii< 
cers,  on  Nov.  21,  arranged  to  use  as  "  their  organ  "  the  Sunday  issue  of  a  Chicago  daily,  the 
Inter  OceaHy  in  return  for  its  devoting  a  regular  column  to  cycling  affairs ;  and  the  Sporting  &* 
Theatrical  Journal  then  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  Record  9ma  to  be  light 
and  amusing,  and  it  at  least  reaches  near  enough  to  that  ideal  to  possess  a  character  and  jBavor  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  ^nd  Division  are  State  organs  of  the  League, 
as  shown  by  their  titles.  The  Pacific  Wheelman  is  of  same  size  as  News^ — 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  drculation  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  do2s  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  says  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  E.  L.  Stettinius),  for  its  May  issue 
contains  18  pp.  of  adv.  and  12  of  text, — well-printed  in  the  reformed  style  mentioned  on  p.  67s, 
—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  7ih  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  thinz  in  its  title.    The  not  expensive  rate  of  12  c  a  year  (dating  from  Apr.,  when  ad 


ADDENDA:   JOURNALISM,  ciii 

vol.  began)  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  most  of  the  type  is  first  used  for  the  Herald  &*  ATewtt 
MBoed  by  the  sanw  editor,  who  lias  just  been  chosen  as  chief  consul  of  the  League  in  his  State. 

The  ££,  World  celebrated  the  opening  of  a  new  volume,  May  6,  '87,  both  by  moviug  to  a 
pewofiioe  where  it  can  do  its  own  printing,  and  by  retuniing  to  the  former  double^olumn  typog- 
capby,  which  I  motioned  on  p.  663  as  looking  better,— also  superseding  the  head  of  Aug.  7, 
'80,  by  a  neater  one  of  style  similar  to  the  earliest,  but  more  artistic  Oddly  enough,  it  makes 
%  hiscoric  blunder  by  inserting  in  the  head,  "  Founded  1878,'*  for  the  real  date  was  Nov.  15,  ^9 
(seep.  662),  while  the  first  issue  of  Am.  Bi.  Jour. — whose  "good-will  "  the  B.  W.  bought, 
while  disclaiming  the  lineal  successorship— was  dated  Dec.  23,  '77  (see  p.  655}.  The  last  gas> 
of  the  B.  iy.*s  "  archery  "  off:»hoot,  which  I  have  described  as  absorbed  by  Recreatian  (pp.  663, 
668),  was  given  when  that  luckless  journal  died,  quite  appropriately,  in  the  office  of  the  IVJuel, 
where  it  was  bom,  as  Amateur  Athiete^  Apr.  4,  'S3, — the  final  issue  bearing  date  of  Nov.  26, 
'86.  Its  owners,  the  **  Cyclist  Pub.  Co.,"  sold  the  corpse,  Nov.  29,  to  the  Wheel's  owners,  the 
"  Cycling  Pub.  Co."  (mentioned  incorrectly  on  p.  667,  as  having  "  made  its  last  appearance  "), 
which  was  then  reorganized  (J.  W.  Barnes,  pres.  ;  F.  Jenkins,  treas. ;  W.  N.  Oliver,  N.  M. 
Beckwith,  G.  M.  Huss,  W.  S.  Bull,  H.  A.  Smith,  stockholders),  and  which  at  once  leased  the 
Wheel  to  F.  P.  Prial,  its  present  editor  and  publisher,  at  a  rental  representing  a  certain  per- 
centage of  the  capital  stock,  with  privilege  of  perpetual  renewal.  Though  he  had  done  most 
of  the  editorial  work  from  Apr.  21,  '85  (p.  666),  his  name  was  first  printed  as  ed.  Sept.  3,  '86; 
ind  when  "  pub."  was  first  added  to  it,  Dec.  3,  he  reduced  the  price  to  the  standard  %v  rate, 
ibough  "  ^a  "  had  been  named  during  the  8  weeks  preceding,  on  account  of  some  trouble  with 
the  Am.  News  Co.  On  May  6,  he  changed  his  office  to  23  Park  row,  and  at  same  time  trans- 
ferred tlie  printing  from  12  Vesey  st.  to  B.  W.  Dinsmore  &  Co.,  of  13  Frankfort  St.,  who  w;;re 
employed  in  '83-4.  Pagination  was  resumed,  after  long  disuse,  when  the  6th  year  began,  Oct.  i, 
and  the  33  issues  from  then  to  May  13  show  46S  pp.  A  "  Southern  Department  "  was  begun 
May  4,  under  N.  L.  CoIlamer,of  Washington,  ed.  of  Wheel  Nttvs ;  and  the  more  frequent  em- 
ployment of  brevier  type  allows  its  editor  to  proclaim  it  as  "  the  Iarges^of  the  weeklies."  At 
the  age  of  8  months  (Dec.  3  ;  see  p.  665),  the  Cycle  gave  a  significant  sign  of  distress  by  drop- 
pit^  the  price  from  $1.50  to  75  c. ;  and  when  ths  Jan.  21  issue  announced  its  "  ceasing  to  exist," 
because  of  cd.'s  promotion  to  management  of  Bulletin  (p.  Ixxxvi.),  its  small  sub.  list  was  sold  to 
the  all-swallowmg  Wh.  Gas.,  of  Springfield.  As  for  the  unborn  papers,  a  Washington  cor.  of 
the  Wheels  Mar.  4,  said  '*  the  Wheel  Age^  a  2  c.  monthly  representing  a  club  of  scientific  riders 
and  writers,"  would  appear  there  within  6  weeks ;  but  on  Mar.  35  he  reported  a  postponement, 
"  though  enough  capital  has  been  subscribed  to  run  the  paper  for  a  year."  The  Am.  Wheel- 
■Miv.  of  Apr.,  says  a  bi.  )oumal  is  about  to  be  started  by  the  riders  of  Oakland,  Cal. ;  and 
another  reporter  (Bui.,  Dec  17,  p.  590)  said  he  had  "  pretty  good  authority  for  believing  that 
Kansas  City,  Mo.,  would  soon  have  a  cycling  weekly,  managed  by  H.  G.  Stuart." 

The  most  notable  addition  to  the  British  journalism  of  the  year  is  the  Way/arer,  a  quarterly 
magazine  issued  by  the  well-known  London  publishers,  Chatto  &  Windus,  of  Piccadilly,  in  behalf 
of  the  editorial  committee  of  "  the  Society  of  Cyclists,"  which  was  established  in  the  early  part  of 
*85,  with  these  avowed  objects  :  "  The  development  of  cycling,  and  its  application  to  the  pro- 
motion of  studies  in  literature,  science  and  art."  I  quote  from  an  official  leaflet,  which  names  a 
fEOveming  council  of  24  (including  2  clergymen  and  3  physicians)  in  addition  to  these  3  officers  : 
Pres.,  B.  W,  Richardson;  treas.,  M.  F.  Cobb;  sec,  A.  W.  Blyth.  The  latter  may  be  ad- 
dressed at  the  society's  rooms,  9  Conduit  St.,  W.,  where  monthly  meetings  are  held,  from  Oct. 
to  May,  wh^n  "  new  inventions  are  exhibited  and  papers  of  interest  to  cyclists  read  and  dis- 
cussed." Admission  to  the  society  is  by  three-fourths  vote  (6  black-balls  to  exclude  in  any  case), 
and  its  annual  fee  of  $5.25  entitles  each  member  to  the  Wayfarer^  M'hose  price  to  outsiders  is 
%\.  Tickets  admitting  visitors  to  the  meetings  may  be  had  on  application  to  any  member  or  to 
ihe  secretary.  Corresponding  members  pay  an  entrance  fee  of  $$-25.  biU  no  annual  dues,  and 
they  can  take  no  part  in  the  election  of  members  or  officers.  No  officer  can  hold  his  place  for 
more  than  three  consecutive  terms;  and  "  the  8  councilors  who  have  attended  the  fewest  coun- 
cil-neetings  during  their  year  sliall  not  be  eligible  for  re-election  until  after  the  lapse  of  a  year." 


civ  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

"  The  council  sliall  meet  as  often  as  business  shall  require ;  and  any  3  of  the  27  counctk>rs  shall 
be  a  quorum."  Women  are  eligible  to  membership;  and  the  expulsion  of  a  member  requires 
a  two-lhirds  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  Wayfarer's  first  issue  (Oct.,  pp.  118), 
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.  Marsh,  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 
)Oumal,  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.  (12  by  9J  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.  2  was  "  re- 
quested to  state  that  T.  C.  Heath  (editor)  and  H.  H.  Grifihi  are  no  longer  connected  with  the 
Cycling  Budget V  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  IlifTcs  (see  p.  690). 
While  letters  on  a  black  background  characterize  the  heading  of  the  Cycling  World,  "an  illust. 
weekly  newspaper  for  wheelmen,  edited  by  J.  H.  Akennan,"  and  pub.  on  Wednesdays  at  158 
Fleet  St.,  beginning  Mar.  9."  Tlie  ed.  was  formerly  connected  with  the  Cycling  Times  (which 
H.  A.  Barrow,  wrongly  named  on  p.  689  as  "  proprietor,"  has  also  left),  and  he  sa>'s  "the 
writers  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  "  I  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  IVorld  for 
a  title  was  made  possible  by  the  discontinuance,  in  Dec.,  of  the  Iliffes'  Wheel  World {^^  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.  la,  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  laltci  being  thrown 
off,  Mar.  25,  when  a  ch.inge  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  bhie 
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  {{i.  689)  did  not  appear 
until  *77,  a  year  later  than  Bi.  News,  for  it  spnmg  from  the  annual,  instead  of  giving  rise  to  it. 
Wheel  Life  (p.  6go)  was  a  failure,  because  its  editors  did  not  secure  the  public  taste.     The  'Jri- 

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  %vritten  by  W.  McC.  and  not  by  G.  L.  H.,  as  implied.  Youi 
implication  (p.  549)  that  I  purposely  left  out  the  '  Star  *  from  my  list  of  safety  bicycles,  becauso 


ADDENDA:    JOURNALISM,  cv 

it  k  Ameriaui,  is  alto  wrong.  The  oversight  was  mainly  because  the  Smith  Mach.  Co.  failed 
to  fin  ooi  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  duipter.  I  would  also  remark  that  I  was 
tke  first  English  joMmalist  to  take  any  note  of  American  doings  whatsoever." 

As  every  loyal  Englishman  wishes  this  year  to  help  celebrate  the  "  jubilee,"  or  completed 
lialf«century  of  Queen  Victoria's  reign,  the  Cycluty  of  Dec.  sa,  called  upon  the  wheelmen  of  the 
kingdom  to  subscribe  for  a  "  jubilee  life*boat  fund,"  and  the  responses,  up  to  May  4,  have  been 
#•396.  As  the  boat  and  house  cost  $5000,  and  the  boat  alone  ^3250,  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  BL  News^  of  Mar.  19,  called  for  help  in  buying  artificial  limbs 
for  a  l^leas  sailor,  J.  Mcintosh,  who  had  driven  a  tricycle  from  Dundee  to  London  in  20 
days,  and  was  able  to  announce  $94  collected  on  Apr.  2.  That  paper  of  May  7  gives  a  page  to 
tabulating  its  circulation  for  53  weeks,  showing  a  growth  from  3650  to  7050  o^ies,  which  it 
calls  "  a  larger  |nt>portionate  progress  f«r  the  12  mos.  than  that  of  any  other  cycling  journal,  and 
a  laiiger  actual  circulation  than  that  of  any  other  6xcept  the  Cyclist,  We  believe  that,  within  3 
mos.,  our  issue  will  exceed  10,000."  As  between  the  two  Coventry  prints  just  named,  I  can  ex- 
IHcss  the  opinion,  after  a  4  months'  perusal  of  both,  that  Americans  will  find  more  to  interest 
them  in  the  B.  N.^  de^ite  its  hostile  tone  towards  this  country  (p.  695).  November  report 
meaticmed  A.  C.  Harmsworth,  as  its  actual  managing  editor  at  the  Coventry  office,  though  his 
name  is  not  printed  in  the  paper.  A  recent  token  of  its  unfairness  was  a  refusal  to  publish  the 
report  of  A.  J.  Wilson  of  the  Trieyclitt,  exonorating  the  Springfield  B.  C,  from  the  charge  of 
**  falsehood  "  raised  by  the  Cyclist^  when  the  club  announced,  in  Oct.  (as  a  jusiiikation  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  halting  apology  for  "  refusing  to  print  stale  news  " ;  but  it  did  nol 
squarely  retract  the  false  chaige.  As  regards  the  "  Coventry  ring  "  publishers,  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  me  for  indexing,  rather  than  allow  Wkttling  to  exclusively  get  the  benefit  of  my  quota- 
tsoos  and  credit-marks.  The  Cyc,  Jaur.  and  /r.  Cyc.  &»  Athlete  have  also  adopted  the  same 
•*  intelligently  selfish  "  rule  towards  nie,  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  Gasette  of  a  portrait  of  H.  Eihering. 
ton,  "  manager  of  the  Sportsman's  Exhibition,"  accompanied  by  biographical  sketch*  which  lat- 
ter  was  reprinted  in  Wheeling  of  May  4.    The  founder  of  the  Bi,  News,  B.  Oegg,  died  Apr.2S. 

In  correction  of  my  Aug.  list  of  papers  on  p.  654,  I  may  say  that  No.  31  should  have  been 
named  as  Irish  Athletic  «&-  Cycling  News  (see  p.  695),  with  J.  L.  Dunbar  as  ed.  and  prop. 
It  is  an  offshoot  of  the  Irish  Sportsman,  and  I  believe  P.  B.  Kirwan  is  a  leading  writer  for  it. 
R.  J.  Mecredy  became  ed.  of  Ir.  Cyclist  dr*  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  a  c,  and  office 
b  at  49  Mid  Jle  Abbey  st.  Its  latest  page,  May  4,  is  numbered  *'  2664,"  and  its  general  appear. 
ance  is  prosperous.  Under  its  title  is  a  list  of  some  two  dozen  clubs,  of  which  it  is  the  "  official 
Qfgan,"  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  mrn- 
tioning  with  praise  the  Centanr  Gazette  of  Birmingham,  as  having  attained  to  "  No.  25,  Vol. 
IV.  ";  while  JFA^^/m^ acknowledged  the  arrival  of  '  the  Wheel,  tor  Sept.,  monthly  journal  of 
the  Lonsdale  B.  C,  Mr.  Calvert,  editor,"  as  long  ago  as  Dec.  3,  '84.  In  '84,  also,  the  Cycling 
Mercury  was  leading  a  life  of  its  own ;  and  perhaps  the  date  of  its  absorption  by  the  Scottish 
Umpire^  in  whose  heading  h  now  forms  a  sub-title  (see  p,  695),  is  marked  by  the  date  of  the 
hitter's  new  aeries,— ^e  current  issue  of  which,  Apr.  26,  n  "  No.  \\\^  Vol.  VI."    The  public^ 


cvi  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tion  office  is  at  25  Jamaica  st.,  Glasgow.  Quix^  a  cntnic  paper  of  that  dty,  has  just  introduced  « 
cycling  column.  Southern  Athletics^  a  monthly  of  cycling,  was  begun  last  Nov.,  at  Lewisham. 
An  amalgamation,  in  Oct.,  of  two  of  the  French  joumab  described  on  p.  699, — the  first 
a  weekly  dating  from  Mar.  5,  '85,  and  the  second  a  semi-monthly  dating  from  Jan.,  '85, — ^has  re- 
stilted  in  the  ViloctSport  et  ie  VtiocemaH  Rhtnis,  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.  G.tz.  for  Nov.,  but  he  did  not  tell  its  name. 
In  Dec,  M.  del'Arieste  made  a  vigorous  protest  against  allowing  the  title  "  official  organ  of  the 
Union  V^locip^dique  "  to  be  conferred  upon  its  hated  rival,  the  Revue  dn  Sport  yilocipidique 
(Rouen  :  84  Vicornpt^  st.)  whose  "  spirited  pictures  "  were  praised  by  Cyclist  Apr.  27,  and  whuse 
"  Almanach  lllustri  ds  la  V^locipidis,  18S7  "  (13  c.),  was  thus  noticed  by  same  paper,  Dec.  aa  : 
"  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  Otttingy  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  Maandbiad,  which  began  in 
Apr.,  *84,  as  "  official  organ  of  the  Dutch  Cyclers*  Union  "  (p.  700),  its  issue  of  Apr.  i,  '87,  is 
called  the  Kampioeu,  by  Wheelings  as  if  the  old  title  had  long  been  di.«iused.  The  true  German 
name  of  what  is  called  the  Steel  Wheel  on  p.  700,  is  the  StaMrad  {^nnVimx. :  Th.  Weber,  ed. ; 
16  pp. ;  #1.25),  pub.  sth  and  20th  of  each  month,  at  3  Buchgasse.  At  Nuremburg,  on  the  fint 
Sunday  in  each  month,  Carl  Lutz,  ed.,  of  Mohren  St.,  issues  the  DaUsche  Rad/akrer  (begun 
in '85  ;  8  to  12  pp.,  $1.50),  "official  organ  of  the  '  AUgemeinen  Radfahrer-Union,*  *'  which 
seems  to  be  a  self-styled  "  universal "  rival  of  the  more  important  "  Dsutscher  Radfahrer-Bund  *' 
described  on  pp.  651,  697.  Vienna  has  two  new  fortnightlies  :  Rad/ahrtr-Zeituug  {^%^\  D. 
Habemal,  ed. ;  3  Fiirichgasse ;  12  pp. ;  ;^i)and  Radfahr-Sport  ('86;  A.  Von  Szabo,  )r.,ed.  : 
5  Lowengasse  ;  16  pp. ;  #2).  The  Cyclist  of  Feb.  22  mentioned  the  starting  of  still  another 
German  paper, — a  "  universal  "  one, — AUgemeiner  Anteiger  f&r  Rad/ahrer.  The  Veloci- 
pedistf  Munich,  and  Velocipedsport^  Berlin  (p.  697),  were  both  flourishing  at  close  of  '86.  The 
latter  is  pub.  by  A.  Paritschke  (97Zinimerst. ;  $1.50),  and  he  also  issues  "  Illustrirter  Radfalv 
rer-Kalcnder  1887,"  at  25  c  I  take  the  foregoing  from  sth  ed.  of  "  Radfahrers  Jahrbuch  " 
(Berlin  :  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  dcm  Radfahrerlebcn  "  (Gleanings  from  a 
Wheelman's  Life),  by  J.  M.  Dumstrey,  illust.  by  Max  Rendschmidt,  Oct.,  86,  $1.37;  (3)  "  Das 
Kunst-  nnd  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  fiir 
Jedermanrf,"  by  Otto  Ekarius,  M.  D.  (Hamburg:  G.  C.  Temps,  59  Neuerwall ;  37  c); 
"Liederbuch  fiir  Radfahrer,"  by  the  Ellwangcn  B.  C.  (songs,  3d  ed. ,  30  c.) ;  **  Touren- und 
Fahrtenbnch,"  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  was  J.  D.  Macaulay's 
(Louisville  ;  6573  ni. ;  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.  531,  558). 
Hence,  when  the  Star  Advocate  ol  Mar.,  '87,  printed  a  letter  from  A.  B.  Norton  (b.  Apr.  2, 
*66),  manager  of  the  telephone  office  at  Westfield,  Ms.,  describing  how  that — between  Mar.  5 
and  Dec  30,  '86 — io,7o6|  m.  had  been  recorded  by  his  I.akin  cyclom.,  attached  to  a  48  in.  1.  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  matke  of  cyclom. ,  or  who  re* 


ADDENDA  :    MILEAGE  OF  '86.  cvii 

ftne  to  allow  any  mOeage  record  which  is  not  written  down  daily,  no  matter  by  what  means 
measured.  All  the  circumstances,  however,  favor  the  theory  of  his  having  actually  covered  the 
distance.  Though  nominally  employed  by  his  father  as  book-keeper  and  collector,  he  had  a 
pvat  deal  of  lime  at  command ;  and  he  was  enthusiastic  to  demonstrate  the  superiority  of  his 
new  Sur  (having  ridden  a  51  in.  in  '85,  and  an  ordinary  in  '84),  by  doing  better  than  the  West- 
field  bank  derk  who  rode  5000  ro.  on  an  ordinary  during  6  mos.  of  '85  (p.  527).  The  successive 
thousands  of  miles  were  finished  at  the  following  dates,  the  enclosed  numerals  signifying  elapsed 
days,  though  no  riding  was  done  on  some  of  them  :  ist,  43,  Apr.  14  ;  2d,  21,  May  5  ;  3d,  24, 
May  29;  4th,  22,  June  ao;  sth,  22,  July  12  ;  6th,  43,  Aug.  28  ;  7th,  20,  Sept.  13  ;  Sih,  25,  Oct. 
8;  9th,  16,  Oct.  24  ;  loth,  17,  Nov.  10;  then,  in  50  days  to  Dec.  30,  706}  m.  From  July  12  to 
27  he  did  no  riding,  on  account  of  break  in  machine,  and  on  certain  rainy  days  he  rode  perhaps 
300  or  400  m.  under  cover.  His  best  straightaway  spin  was  from  Hartford  to  Springfield,  27  m. 
in  a  h.  10  min.  (beating  record  by  \  h.),  and  his  longest  day  was  125  m.,  Oct.  32,  in  9  h.  of  rid- 
iag,^4  to  7  A.  M.,  9  to  12  and  3  to  5  p.  m.  His  rides  were  by  no  means  confined  to  the  concrete 
walks  of  W.  but  extended  to  S.,  Holyoke  and  Northampton  and  were  generally  taken  alone. 

The  prize  of  a  $25  gold-plated  cyclom.,  which  had  been  an  inspiring  cause  of  his  activity, 
was  awarded  by  Lakin  &  Co.,  to  a  15-year  old  school-boy,  G.  J.  Loomis,  riding  a  52  in.  Victor  (p. 
$17),  who  made  the  preposterous  "  claim  '*  of  13,498  m.,  without  offering  a  particle  of  evidence 

10  support  it, — not  even  giving  the  dates  when  the  alleged  thousands  were  finished.  He  kept 
the  face  of  his  cydom.  carefully  hidden,— but  Mr.  N.  managed  to  take  two  readings  of  it,  Oct. 

11  (evening)  and  19,  and  the  "  record  "  for  these  5  days  was  996  m.I  Yet  the  Overman  Wheel 
Co.  have  advertised  this  wretched  fraud  as  a  great  triumph  for  their  mechanism  ;  while  another 
Westfield  school  boy  of  same  age,  named  Emerson  Burt,  who  similarly  "  claimed  "  10,002  m., 
on  a  42  in.  American  Ideal,  was  rewarded  by  the  Gormully  &  Jcffcry  Co.  with  a  new  46  in.  bi. 
As  I  have  reproved  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.  forgiving  countenance  to  an  unverified  "  estimate  of 
11,000  m.  in  14  mos."  (p.  526),  so  here  I  protest  again  against  these  other  firms  taking  such  action 
as  helps  bring  all  honest  cyclometers  and  record-keeping  into  disrepute.  The  "  claims  *'  of  these 
two  children  are  utterly  farcical ;  but  the  Overman  Co.  might  well  have  proclaimed  the  undoubt- 

-  fdly  authentic  *86  record  of  80S7  m.  by  A.  B.  Barkman  (p.  530),  who  thus  won  the  Brooklyn  B. 
('.  medal,  for  he  rode  all  but  the  first  433  m.  on  a  Victor.  Second  only  to  this,  stands  the  "  Star  " 
record  of  7451  m..  Mar.  27  to  Dec.  26,  '86,  by  W.  W.  Sheen  (b.  June  17,  *W>),  of  Quincy,  who 
tabulated  each  day's  mileage  in  Wh.  Gaz. ,  for  Mar.  Space  forbids  my  printing  details  of  either 
case.  I  also  regretfully  omit  an  account  of  one  of  the  roost  notable  tours  of  '86,  taken  by  a  tiio 
of  the  New  Orleans  B.  C— A.  M.  Hill  (b.  Sept.  13,  '47),  a  jeweler  at  116  Canal  st. ;  C.  M.  Fair- 
child  (b.  May  23,  '65),  and  H.  W.  Fairfax  (b.  Aug.  11,  '66).  They  left  N.  O.  on  Apr.  25  and 
reached  Boston  30  days  later,  after  having  ridden  their  bicycles  1237  m.,  walked  319  m.  and 
ta'ien  to  trains  for  237  m.    (See  Mr.  H.'s  four  articles  in  Bulietbi,  Oct.  29  to  Nov.  19.) 

The  following  table  is  from  a  little  pamphlet  issued  in  '8x  by  H.  S.  Livingston,  of  Cincin- 
nati, to  accompany  his  "  perfection  cyclometer,"  which  is  no  longer  in  the  market.  Short  dis« 
tances  may  readily  be  measured  by  bearing  these  figures  in  mind,  and  disregarding  the  fractions 
a*  unimportant.     It  may  be  well  to  remember  that  \  m.  is  440  yards,  and  \  m.  is  587  yards. 


Diameter 
of  Wheel. 


Inches. 


46 
48 
50 
Sa 
54 
$6 

60 


Circumference 
of  Wheel 


Inches. 


M4.5»36 

150.7968 

«57o» 

163.363a 

S69.6464 

175.9296 

182.2128 

18S.4960 


Revolutions 

of  Wheel 

to  the  Mile. 


438-44 
420.17 
403- :^6 
3«7-85 
373-48 
360.14 
347-73 
336. « 4 


401 
419 
436 
454 
47« 
489 
506 
5*4 


Distance  Madb  im 


1000 

Rev. 

Miles. 

Yards. 

2 

494 

669 

843 

1018 

1192 

1367 

•541 

1716 

^o.poo  Rev. 

Miles.       Yards. 


a3 
24 

25 
26 


1422 
140S 
•393 
1379 
1364 
«349 
■335 
1320 


NIAY  KOURTH,  1887. 

After  four  years  op  prelude  and  gei'ting-ready,  Karl  Kron  thus 
TO  HIS  Three  Thousand  Co-partners  giveth  greeting  : 

I  like  the  Preface,  as  you  arc  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  I    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 ! 
Farewell,  Old  Sub.-List,  with  your  frowns  and  smiles ! 

Here  now  *s  the  pinch  I  Hear  now  my  clarion-call : 
"  Come  /  thirty  thousand  purchasers  for  *  X.  M.  MiLBS '  I " 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


I. 

ON  THE  WHEEL.* 

''There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods,"  without  a  doubt.  But, 
wlien  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  tjie  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  oth^r  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,  ^Nmts  avons  changi  totU  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  or  avoid  him  no  longer.  Gentle  or  simple, 
they  all  recognize  in  him  the  representative  of  something  novel  and  remark- 


IFrom   Lippincotfs  MagaxhUt  June,  1882,  pp.  576-587.      Reprinted  Id    The  IVheeimant 
December,  1881,  pp.  170-179. 


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  hb  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  4u« 
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  fouk-  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  '*i>assing  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  not  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 
folly  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  dvil  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, 
but — "  Such  are  the  common  introductions  to  requests  for  information  on 
this,  that,  or  the  other  point. 

It  may  seem  to  the  unreflecting  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  b 
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  minuter 
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  fort}'-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,  judging 
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  ftot  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 

IThe  reader  must  remember  that  these  words  were  written  in  September,  1881,  since  which 
lime  there  have  been  great  changes  in  nearly  all  the  records. 


ON  THE  WHEEL.  5 

encumbrances  ;  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 
exi>atiating  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  \o  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  study  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 whercfrom  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 
mteresting,  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  possessed  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  overheard  by  the  touring  bicycler,  absorbed  as  he  seems  to  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  the  bummers  and  beer-guzzlers  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 
away. 

An  amusing  tribute  to  the  gracefulness  and  ease  of  bicycling  is  uncon- 
sciously paid  by  every  urchin  who  cries,  **  Let  her  out,  mister  1 "  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  that  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  that  he  was  riding  through  the  country  for  his  own  recreation,  no 
one  would  think  of  asking  him,  "How  far  can  you  drive  in  a  day?"  nor 
would  it  occur  to  any  one  that  he  was  spending  his  vacation  in  a  particularly 
unreasonable  manner ;  nor  yet  would  a  doubt  be  raised  as  to  the  probability 
of  his  returning  at  his  journey's  end  to  the  same  commonplace  and  unobtru- 
sive mode  of  earning  a  livelihood  to  which  he  had  presumably  been  accus- 
tomed. But  a  man  on  a  bicycle  is  assumed  by  everybody  to  be  testing  his 
speed,  to  be  spending  his  entire  ph3rsical  energy  on  the  problem  of  covering 
the  greatest  possible  number  of  miles  in  a  given  time.  He  is  also  assumed 
to  keep  up  this  character  continuously,  at  least  to  the  extent  of  having  no 
other  regular  occupation  or  pursuit.  No  one  for  a  moment  thinks  of  him  as 
an  ordinary  work-a-day  member  of  society,  who,  when  his  brief  outing  is 
ended,  resumes  the  common  garb  of  civilization  and  bears  a  hand  again  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  collar-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 
biqrcier  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  restricts  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  dose  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  commonplace 
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- 
6u».  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  trifie  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.  Comewall 
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  mab 
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  ? "  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  off  " ;  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  ^  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— ^evil— do— you — 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  I  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- 
rilla,"  or  "  root  beer,"  which  is  presumably  kept  on  hand  only  to  acconuno- 
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 
oi  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  ofE  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  1  They  can't  get 
away  with  me.  1*11  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  than  myself  when 
he  shouted,  "  I  say,  general,  I  wish  I  had  one  of  them  big,  old-fashioned,  cop- 
per cents ;  I*d  make  you  a  present  of  it.**  Much  richer  than  this  was  the 
caution  deprecatingly  administered  to  me  (in  a  tone  of  friendly  confidence,  as 


lo  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

of  one  superior  being  to  his  fellow  of  equal  rank)  by  a  mule^iver  whose 
aspect  was  as  uncouth  and  forbidding  as  that  of  the  ideal  tramp:  "Yoa 
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  rufEans 
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  "  th6  little  clock,"  or  **  the  watch,'*  by  the  chil- 
dren, while  grown  people  often  air  their  superior  knowledge  by  designate 
faig  it  as  **  a  sort  of  pedometer  "  (pronounced  "  pe^do-mcet-cr  **).  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  natinrad 
history,  I  might  be  tempted  to  prepare  a  monograph  concerning  the  traits  of 
certain  rare  varieties  of  the  Great  American  Hog  {Porcus  Amtricanus)^  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,  ii 

for  a  raw-boned  and  decrepit  *'  plug,"  in  the  toils  of  an  angular  and  shrill- 
Toiced  woman,  who  exclaimed  excitedly  as  they  slowly  passed  me  (a  slight 
priddng  of  the  ears  being  the  only  sign  of  animation  on  the  part  of  the  horse), 
"  If  you'd  ha*  set  still  he  wouldn't  ha*  been  scairt.**  With  this  I  may  perhaps 
be  pardoned  for  coupling  another  instance  of  road-side  rudeness  manifested 
by  the  sex.  Overtaking  a  pair  of  well-dressed  and  comely-appearing  women 
on  a  country  sidewalk,  where  the  act  of  stepping  aside  involved  no  possible 
trouble,  I  proffered,  in  my  most  suave  and  winning  accents,  the  customary  re- 
quest, '*  Will  you  please  give  me  the  inside  track  for  a  moment  ?  '*  Imagine 
my  surprise,  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 
the  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 
her  dvilly."    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  the  highways  are 
generally  poor,  except  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  big  cities, — ^the  early  intro- 
duction of  railways  having  removed  the  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  the  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 
continuously  for  a  hundred  miles  at  a  stretch,  and  where,  by  the  aid  of  train 
or  boat,  much  longer  tours  may  be  readily  laid  out.  In  offering  examples  of 
these  I  will  confine  m3rself  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 
tours  equally  practicable  and  attractive.  The  "Connecticut  Valley  trip" 
may  well  begin  at  Meriden  and  extend  northward  through  Hartford,  Spring- 
field, Greenfield,  and  Braftleboro  to  Bellows  Falls,— say  one  hundred  and 
fifteen  miles.  Riding  thence  by  train  over  the  mountain  to  Rutland  (two 
hours),  the  bicycler  may  there  begin  a  charming  course  of  twenty-five  miles  to 
Whitehall,  near  Lake  George ;  and,  having  "  done  **  the  beautiful  lake  to  any 
degree  that  suits  him,  he  may  drive  his  wheel  from  Caldwell  to  Albany,  about 
sixty  miles,  and  thence  down  the  old  post-road  on  the  east  side  of  the  Hudson 
homeward  to  New  York.  Here  is  a  track  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
loi^,  extending  through  four  States,  embracing  a  great  variety  of  attractive 
scenery,  and  rich  bo^h  in  historic  associations  and  in  objects  of  *<contem- 


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 
corner  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  Canals 
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  taken 
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  ioo°  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  1881,"  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 

gage-car,  after  placating  the  lordly  commander  thereof  either  with  civil  expla- 
nations or  with  a  quarter-dollar  in  current  coin ;  but  it  is  greatly  to  be  desired 
that  the  transportation  companies  should  issue  definite  and  intelligently-con- 
sidered fegulations  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  touring — are  usually  the  old-established  thoroughfares, 
whose  identity  is  apt  to  be  well  preserved  at  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  at,  when  planning  a  tour 
on  an  unknown  road,  where  the  rate  of  progress  is  uncertain,  is  one  of  the 
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 
to  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  jjhases  of  "American  cookery,**  "table-manners,** 
and  •*  waiting."  The  universal  negro  waiter,  as  is  w^ell  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  take  control 
of  the  wayfarer  at  most  of  the  hotels  in  the  Mohawk  Valley  should  agree  in 
cherishing  as  their  ideal  of  extreme  "style**  in  table-service  the  knack  of 
giving  rapid  utterance  to  the  names  of  several  dishes  on  the  bill-of-fare,  as  if 
they  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 
them.  Having  in  a  single  breath  snapped  out,  Roastbeefroastturkeyboiled 
muttonandfriedham,'*  her  interest  in  the  case  practically  ceases,  and  she 
thenceforth  goes  about  her  business  with  the  proud  consciousness  of  duty 
done ;  and  done  not  only  in  a  complete  but  in  an  impressive  and  stylish  man- 
ner, creditable  to  the  reputation  of  the  house.  Incidentally  she  may  occa- 
sionally condescend  to  bring  out  some  of  the  dishes  that  have  been  ordered 
in  response  to  her  polysyllabic  crj*. 

I  have  made  no  attempt  to  describe  or  discuss  the  relations  of  the  Small 
Boy  to  bicycling,  for  those  are  of  so  important  and  interesting  a  character 
that  nothing  less  than  a  separate  essay  could  pretend  to  do  them  justice. 
When,  however,  I  hear  a  philistine  say  sneeringly  of  the  sport  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  unforgotten ! "  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,  being  presumably  a  bicycler  also,  would  prove  a  faster  rider. 


II. 

AFTER  BEER.* 

[Inspired  by  fifteen  years'  contemplation  of  "Beer,'*  as  prepared  by  the 
late  George  Arnold  for  The  New  York  Saturday  Pressj  of  August  12,  1865.] 

Genteel,  Oh  1  finer  far 

On  my  wheel  Than  fame  or  riches  are 

I  sit.  The  caracolings  of  this  airy  carl 
The  vulgar  mob  may  flit  Why 

Below;  Should  I 

They  go  Weep,  wail  or  sigh? 

Unheeded  by ;  What  if  age  has  dimmed  my  eye  ? 

And,  as  they  fly,  What  if  Pm  truly  said 

I,  Not  to  be  worth  a  red  ? 
Mounted  high.  Stuff  1 

Sit,  I've  enough : 

Turning  with  toe  or  heel  My  steed  of  steel— 

My  wheel  I  My  wheel! 

Go,  whining  youth, 

Forsooth  I 
Travel  by  rail ; 
Fish,  or  shoot  quail ; 

Weave  melancholy  rhymes 

On  the  old  times 
Whose  sports  to  memory  now  appeal; 
But  leave  to  me  my  wheel. 

Wealth  melts  like  snow ; 

Love  leads  to  woe ; 

So, 
If  I  tread  my  troubles  down. 
Without  a  frown, 

In  speeding  on  from  town  to  town. 
Then  do  I  wear  the  crown, 

With  wheel  or  whoa  I 


iFram  Puck,  August  11,  1880,  p.  404.    The  original,  "  Beer,"  may  be  found  on  p.  139  of 
" Geoige  Araold's  Poems "  (Boston  :  Fields,  Osgood  &  Co.,  1871). 


III. 

WHITE  FLANNEL  AND  NICKEL  PLATE:.* 

Those  five  words  would  form  my  answer  to  anyone  v/ho  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  to  call  upon  me  as  an  oracle,  I  trust  I  shaU 
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  my  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  attempt  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  wfearing  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  Wheels :  the  Wheelman's  Annual  for  1882,"  pp.  111-119  (Salem,  Mass.  : 
J.  P.  Burbank,  1882,  tamo,  pp.  135,  price  $1.00). 


I 


WHITE  FLANNEL  AND  NICKEL  PLATE,  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  over  the  shoulder  with  the  roll  to  which  it  ia 
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  made  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  vaseUne  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 
1  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  thos^an  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  o£ 
them.  A  good  wheelman,  like  a  good  soldier,  should  be  proud  to  go  in  light 
inarching  order,  carrying  in  compact  form  the  things  that  he  really  needs,  and 
2 


i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

canying  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  vrithout  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  lagei^ 
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  %nd  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  PLATE. 


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  fo^nd  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  1 

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  all-bright  bicycle  enlighten  the  stupidest  landlord  to 


20  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  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,-rtime  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 
and  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.  )  hare  not 
changed  at  all  my  philosophy  of  touring,  as  formuJated  in  the  foregoing  essay,  whidi  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  tomigated  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  off  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  dieapest  obtain- 
able J  $1.50),  were  the  first  ones  with  which  I  took  an  all-day  ride  (a  circuit  of  60  m.,  August  16, 


WHITE  FLANNEL  AND  NICKEL  PLATE,  21 

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  joiuney  of  40  ra.,  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  a6, 1884  (i,z8o  m.), — though  I  returned  to  boots  for  a  brief  sea- 
son, daring  my  142  m.  of  riding  in  Bermuda.  My  third  pair  of  shoes  were  nearly  identical  with 
the  second  pair  in  style  and  price,  and  they  had  neariy  reached  the  end  of  their  usefulness  when 
I  took  my  last  ride  m  them,  December  24  (i,a86m.)-  Perhaps  100  m.  should  be  deducted  from 
this  eight  months'  mileage,  as  representing  the  sum  of  the  short  rides  when  I  wore  ray  ordinary 
walking-shoes ;  for,  as  a  result  of  getting  accustomed  to  the  use  of  shoes  while  bicycling,  my  life- 
hxig  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  priori  objection  (p.  18 )  "  that  the  dust  and  sand  and  mud  would  work  their 
«ay  <^sagreeably  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  way  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  stocJc  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 
800m.,  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 
**  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 —the  latter  device  being  a  good  one 
to  prevent  the  wearer's  feet  from  being  discolored  by  the  dye.  Cotton  stocking^  cannot  be  made 
to  hold  their  colors,  no  matter  what  the  sellers  may  say;  and  a  pair  of  black  ones  which  I  was 
oooe  forced  to  buy  (  40c. ),  as  a  makeshift  for  bicycling,  quickly  gave  a  sable  hue  to  my  drawers 
as  weD  as  my  feet.  The  black  silk  stockings  which  I  bought  in  1883  ($3.75),  when  the  League 
gave  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 
carriage  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 
Ittavy  woolen  stockings  will  hold  them  in  place  when  new,  garters  soon  get  to  be  a  necessity. 
But,  as  they  are  apt  to  slip,  or  prove  otherwise  unsatisfactory  when  applied  directly  to  the  leg, 
I  have  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  stuff,  which 
I  bought  in  '79,  and  which  is  likely  to  last  me  for  another  half-dozen  years  at  least,  served  well 
in  all  sorts  of  weather  during  my  forty  days'  straightaway  ride  of  '83  ;  and  it  also  proved  an  ex- 
celknt  garment  for  use  on  the  deck  during  the  sea  voyages  that  were  connected  with  my  Nova 
Scotia  and  Bermuda  explorations.    The  green  corduroy  breeches,  bought  at  Boston  in  June  o^ 


22  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

'8 1,  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  roU  oa 
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  breedies 
( $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  cloth,  two  feet  square ;  and  this  cover  is  also  available  as  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-cent  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  "  curied 
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  mentionii^, — 
were  it  not  that  "  a  10,000-mile  man  "  assured  mc  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  ihind  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 "  ($a),  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  x, 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  roe  speak  my  mind  squarely  against  it,  for 
"  the  trade ''  long  since  discontinued  its  sale.  I  believe,  indeed,  that  the  veritable  belt  whidi  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  specimen,  by  earliest  return  mail,  postage  prepaid. 


IV. 

A  BIRTHDAY  FANTASIE.' 

Abgumbnt.— "  Three  wise  men  of  Gotham  went  to  sea  on  their  wheels ;  and  if  those  wheels 
had  been  stronger,  this  by  had  been  longer."  Kron,  while  taking  a  solitary,  Christmas-eve 
ouise  on  his  stanch  yacht,  "  The  Bull  Dorg,"  in  search  of  the  Golden  Fleas,  amid  the  glittering 
wastes  of  the  Paleocrystic  Sea,  meets  with  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- 
▼Asation  then  takes  place  : 

CycUrs  three  I     What  men  be  ye? 

Gotham's  brave  club-m^n  we  be. 
Whither  en  your  wheels  so  free  f 

To  rake  the  moon  out  of  the  sea. 
Our  wheels  go  trim.     The  moon  doth  shine. 
*Tis  but  a  wheel.     It  shall  be  thine. 
755^  moorCs  a  wheel  which  shall  be  mine  I 

Who  art  thoii,  so  hard  adrift  ? 

I  am  he  they  call  Kol  JCran, 
On  this  moon  we  will  thee  lift. 

No  !    I  may  not  mount  thereon. 
Wherefore  so  ?    ^Tis  Jove's  decree : 
**  On  a  wheel  plough  not  the  sea  I 
With  a  wheel  vex  not  the  sea  I " 

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 ! 
No  I    I  drive  a  forty-six, — 
I  was  born  in  '46. 

Strange  at  sea  to  meet  such  keels  ! 

How  with  wetter  can  they  cope  ? 
Tis  magician  floats  the  wheels, — 

The  Infallible,  the  Pope  I 
Your  wheels  go  trim.     The  moon  doth  shine. 
Now  let  "  The  Bull  Dorg*'  cleave  the  brine, 
fust  go  your  way,  and  I  *ll  go  mine. 
Washington  Squars,  Dec  24, 18S0. 


1  An  imitation  of  "  Drinking  Catch,"  by  Thomas  Love  Peacock.    Written  by  request  for  the 
special  midwinter  ntunber  of  T/u  Bicycling  Worlds  January  14,  188 1,  p.  153. 


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  writei^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  "  I's  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 

iFrom  The  IVkeg/tnan,  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 "),  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  I6gal  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 
New  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,  ^  niade  my  first  experimental  mount,  and  found 
that  ray  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  bic}'cle,  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. 

Sue  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  hour  or  so  on  the  concrete  walks  of 
the  Square.  A  week  later,  on  my  third  trial,  I  ventured  to  slide  into  the  sad- 
dle 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  mistaken 
theory  of  a  railroad  man,  that  the  highway  supplied  softer  and  more  difficult 
riding  than  the  space  between  the  tracks,  I  clung  to  the  latter  all  day,  and 
only  accomplished  22  miles,  ending  at  West  Brimfield,  where  the  rain  put  an 
entire  stop  to  my  very  slow  progress.     On  the  morning  of  the  i  ith  I  took 


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 
16J  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  rode.  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,  fV.^  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.  fV.j  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.  IV.,  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,  came 
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. 
[B.  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  1 5,  in 
the  region  of  Niagara  Falls.  Before  this  I  had  spent  four  days  along  the 
Erie  Cana),  mostly  on  the  tow-path,  between  Schenectady  and  Oneida,  1 10 
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  days,  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  29},— 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  1st 
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"  [7;^  miles), 
and  perhaps  even  making  ico  miles.  On  the  22d  of  April  I  explored  Staten 
Island  to  the  extent  of  23  miles,  and  then  went  17  miles  further,  through 


FOUR  SEASONS  ON  A  FORTY-SIX.  29 

Elizabethtown  and  Newark,  to  Orange.  [B,  W.,  May  20,  p.  17.]  On  the  last 
Saturday  of  May,  I  began  a  week's  ride  of  287  miles, — going  first  from  Boston 
through  Maiden  and  Salem  to  Rowley,  and  from  Portsmouth  to  the  Kittery 
Navy  Yard  and  back,  46  miles  j  and  next  day  returning  from  Portsmouth  to 
Salem,  a  similar  distance.  Monday  witnessed  the  second  annual  parade  of 
the  League,  and  a  trip  to  Brighton  and  Chestnut  Hill,  20  miles;  Tuesday,  an 
excursion  to  the  Blue  Bell  Tavern  in  Milton,  20  miles ;  Wednesday,  a  trip  to 
Dedham,  Needham,  and  Chestnut  Hill,  36  miles;  Thursday,  a  leisurely  ride 
of  ten  hours  from  the  Hotel  Vendome,  Boston,  through  Cambridge,  Lexing- 
ton, Waltham,  Wellesley,  and  Framingham  to  Northboro*,  54J miles;  Friday, 
a  final  push  of  fourteen  hours,  through  mist  and  fog,  with  a  threatening  east 
wind  at  my  back,  to  Worcester,  West  Brookfield,  Ware,  Three  Rivers,  Indian 
Orchard,  Springfield,  and  West  Springfield,  64^  miles.  [B.  W.,  Aug.  26,  p. 
188.]  The  following  Tuesday  I  went  up  the  river  to  Brattleboro,  47I  miles. 
1  repeated  the  trip  on  the  22d  of  August,  in  beginning  a  tour  to  Lake  George 
[B.  fV.,  Oct.  7,  p.  259;  Nov.  II,  p.  5],  but  continued  on  to  Putney,  52i  miles. 
Thence  next  day  I  rode  to  Bellows  Falls  and  from  Rutland  to  Whitehall, 
39  miles.  The  third  day,  after  20  miles  of  hap-hazard  riding  among  the 
hills,  brought  me  to  Hulett's  Landing,  on  Lake  George.  The  fourth  day,  be- 
sides sailing  through  the  lake,  I  circled  from  Baldwin's  to  Ticonderoga  and 
back,  and  from  Caldwell  to  Fort  Edward,  1 7  miles.  The  fifth  day  I  con- 
tinued homeward  through  Albany  to  Schodack,  57  miles,  and  on  the  sixth  day 
ended  my  trip  by  making  an  early  morning  push  of  18  miles  to  Hudson,  and 
there  embarking  on  steamer  for  New  York.  A  week  later,  September  4,  I 
began  a  four  days*  ride  on  Long  Island,  from  Flushing  to  Yaphank  and  back, 
140  miles,  of  which  31  and  43  were  covered  on  my  outward  trip,  and  14  and 
52  on  my  return.  [B,  IV.,  1882,  July  28,  p.  463.]  Another  four  days*  ride  was 
begun  on  the  26th  of  September,  when  I  circled  15  miles  in  the  environs  of 
Poughkeepsic ;  then  to  Rhinebeck  and  back,  33  miles ;  then  down  the  river  to 
Garrison's,  25  miles;  then  home  to  the  city  again,  44  miles.  The  return  trip 
from  Tarrytown,  on  this  latter  day,  should  properly  be  connected  with  my  up- 
trip  thither  on  the  17th  of  May,  for  on  that  occasion  I  took  train  to  Pough- 
kecpsie,  and  then  was  forced  by  the  rain  to  take  train  homeward  again  with- 
out doing  any  riding  there.  On  the  i6th  of  October  I  rode  23  miles  in  the 
park  at  Philadelphia,  and  .15  miles  the  next  forenoon  in  the  park  at  Baltimore. 
Then,  on  the  22d,  I  began  a  six  days*  tour  "  along  the  Potomac  **  [B.  W.,  1882, 
June  23,  p.  403;  July  14,  p.  441],  making  180  miles,  divided  thus :  32,  54,  30, 
'3»  5'-  The  first  day's  ride  was  from  Frederick  to  Hagerstown.  Six  miles 
beyond  there  is  Williamsport,  where  I  struck  the  tow-path  of  the  Chesapeake 
and  Ohio  Canal,  and  rode  up  it  48  miles  before  nightfall.  The  third  day 
brought  roe  to  the  end  of  the  tow-path  at  Cumberland,  whence  I  took  train 
back  to  Harper's  Ferry,  and  from  there  followed  the  tow-path  down  to  its 
other  end  at  Washington.  On  the  1 5th  of  November  I  made  my  sixth  trip 
to  Tarrytown,  42  miles;  and  on  the  21st  of  December,  the  shortest  day  of  the 


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  33I  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  1 
afterwards  extended  to  Hackensack,  Ridgefieid,  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  9tlL 
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  Wheelman  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 
X  5th  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,  55^  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,  ih  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,oco  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  bad  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,  26J,  29i,  33J.  The  "days"  and  "miles"  may  be  grouped  to- 
gether as  follows:  1879,  47  ^^^  74^;  1880,  58  and  M74i;  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  ;  Bemardston  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;  Cumberland  to  Harper's  Ferry,  97;  Washington  to  New  York,  228; 
Newark  to  New  York,  7 ;  New  York  to  Washington  and  Chicago,  1,041 ; 
Chicago  to  Cincinnati,  310 ;  Williamstown  to  Sadieville,  19 ;  Upton  to  Cave 
City,  26;  Cave  City  to  Louisville,  85 ;  Cheshire  to  New  Haven,  15;  Albany 


32  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

to  Utica,  95 ;  Oneida  to  Syracuse,  25 ;  Wavcrly  to  Towanda,  18 ;  Meshoppen 
to  Pittston,  38 ;  Wilkesbarre  to  Newark,  172  j  Newark  to  Philadelphia  and 
back,  162.  • 

In  addition  to  the  above  indicated  4414  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  Greenport,  15;  Battery  to  Vanderbilt's  Landing,  10;  Ne?r  York  to 
Fall  River,  175;  Hulett*s  Landing  to  Baldwin's  and  thence  to  Caldwell  (I^ke 
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  Ferr}',  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 
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  T  have  ridden  with  it  in  a  wagon,  abcut 
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  1,600  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 
run,  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, 
!6  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  miles  to  cover  the  distances 
which  friends  have  ridden  beside  me  on  horseback,  or  driven  beside  me  in 
carriages,  or  walked  or  rowed  beside  me,  the  total  will  be  460  miles,  to  repre- 
sent that  part  of  my  riding  which  has  been  cheered  by  any  other  "  company  ** 
3 


34 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


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  with  those  of  other  men ;  and  a  peculiar  charm  of  the  bicy- 
cle is  its  capacity  for  economizing  every  shred  and  atom  of  a  man's  leisure, — 
for  increasing  his  independence  in  respect  to  relaxation.  Only  in  .exceptional 
cases  can  extensive  touring  be  successfully  indulged  in  otherwise  than  as  a 
solitary  amusement.  What  reasonable  chance  is  there  that,  in  a  ride  of  say 
400  mites,  two  men  can  get  along  comfortably  together,  unless  they  are  very 
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 
"  environment."  Hence,  too,  I  trust  that  Mr.  Calverley  will  pardon  me  if  I 
thus  parody  one  of  his  parodies  in  order  to  give  rhythmic  expression  to  my 
enthusiasm : — 

Others  may  praise  the  grand  displays, 

Where  flash  the  wheels  like  tail  of  comet,— 
The  club-runs  made  on  gala  days, — 

Far  may  I  be  at  such  times  from  it ! 
Though  then  the  public  may  be  "  lost 

In  wonder  "  at  a  trifling  cost. 
Fanned  by  the  breeze,  to  whirl  at  ease, 

My  faithf  ud  wheel  is  all  I  crave, 
And  if  folks  rave  about  the  "  seas 

Of  upturned  faces,"  let  them  rave ! 
Your  monster  meets,  I  like  not  these ; 

The  lonely  tour  hath  more  to  please. 


VI. 

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  "  Number  234.**  It  is  only  an  old-fashioned 
Kttic  46-incher,  with  cone-bearings  and  big  pedals.  There  is  nothing  about 
its  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  first  day  I  mounted  it,  and  it  has  since  been  pushed  by  me 
over  a  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  their 
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  for  the  machine 
itself,  and  the  other  half  went  to  the  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  moments,  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  "  Yes  **  as  my  easiest 
answer.  It  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 
seem  less  absurdly  disproportionate  to  my  income,  I  have  felt  in  duty  bound 
to  drive  «  Number  234,"  and  none  other,  until  now,  at  the  end  of  my  fourth 
season,  I  find  that  that  original  very  costly  rod  of  transportation  on  the  29th 
of  May,  1879,  ^*s  been  expanded  into  more  than  6,000  miles  of  riding,  where- 
of the  average  cost  per  rod  has  been  ver}'  slight.  In  order  still  further  to 
reduce  this  average  I  shall  postpone  all  notion  of  buying  a  new  wheel  for  at 
least  two  seasons  more,  or  until  I  have  run  the  record  of  my  old  one  up  to 
10,000  miles.  Perhaps  by  that  time  I  shall  have  become  so  firmly  wedded  to 
my  first  love  that  nothing  but  death  can  separate  us ;  perhaps  by  that  time  all 


iFrom  The  IVhetlman^  March,  1883,  PP*  43a-436- 


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 !  TU  ding  to  thee,  old  bicycle. 
Till  thy  round  red  rubber  tires 
Pound  to  rags,  and  till  to  toothpicks 
Split  thy  tremulous  steel  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  niiles,  during 
the  four  seasons  past  My  tours,  as  outlined  in  last  month's  Wheelman^  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  please'd  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  satisfactor>-,  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.es  or  fingers,  the  end  soon  worked  loose  again,  and 
remained  so  until  I  secured  new  tires,  a  year  later,  though  it  never  caused 
me  any  real  trouble.  Thirty-three  more  rides,  and  673  more  miles  of  riding, 
brought  me  to  the  meet  at  Newport,  with  pedals  and  bearings  all  so  loose  and 
rattling  as  to  exdte  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  I  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, 
I  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, 
and  a  new  bar  had  to  be  secured.  The  part  of  my  machine  which  first  broke, 
however,  was  the  spring,  which  cracked  in  two  on  the  23d  of  August,  1880 
(when  my  record  of  miles  was  1,480,  and  my  number  of  riding  days  was  eighty- 
two),  though  the  fracture  did  not  loosen  the  saddle  or  prevent  my  wheeling 
homeward  in  safety.  In  fact,  though  the  jarring  and  jolting  seemed  rather 
greater  than  usual,  I  probably  should  not  have  detected  the  crack  in  the 
spring  at  all  had  I  not  uncovered  it  in  preparing  to  attach,  for  trial,  a  new 
"suspension  saddle."  I  had  bought  this,  not  because  my  old  block-mounted 
saddle  was  a  bad  fit,  or  in .  any  way  uncomfortablCi  but  because  I  had  read 
and  heard  so  much  about  the  superiority  of  this  new  variety,  that  I  thought, 
being  on  the  eve  of  departure  on  a  tour  of  500  miles,  that  I  *'  must  have  the 
best."  As  the  breaking  of  the  spring  prevented  this  preliminary  trial  of  the 
new  saddle,  I  tried  it,  for  the  first  time,  when  I  began  my  tour,  and  discovered 
before  riding  ten  miles  that  it  was  far  less  comfortable  than  the  old  one. 
Nevertheless,  I  had  to  ride  it  xoo  miles  further,  before  I  could  get  back  the 
old  one,  which  I  immediately  ordered  sent  to  me ;  and  I  have  made  no  other 
attempts  at  change.  As  that  original  saddle  is  now  completely  worn  out  at 
the  edges,  however,  I  propose  to  begin  my  fifth  season  with  a  new  one  of  the 
"long-distance"  variety. 

I  sent  the  machine  to  its  birthplace  in  Hartford  to  have  the  broken 
spring  replaced ;  and,  as  the  pedals  had  become  unduly  worn,  because  of  my 
using  them  for  the  first  900  miles  without  making  any  adjustment,  I  had  them 
replaced  by  new  ones ;  and  I  also  ordered  new  tires,  because,  though  they  had 
always  stuck  tight  to  the  rims,  and  were  not  perceptibly  worn,  the  front  one 
had  received  a  deep  cut  straight  across  it,  and  I  did  not  wish,  at  the  outset  of 
a  long  journey,  to  take  the  chance  of  its  coming  completely  apart.  For  these 
renewals,  and  a  general  tightening  up  of  the  parts,  I  paid  $15;  and  at  the 
same  place,  three  months  before,  I  had  paid  $1.80  for  other  small  repairs, 
which  included  new  oil-cups  and  new  cones  for  the  rear  axle.    I  may  as  well 


m 


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  mDes' 
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. 


COLUMBim,  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  Jittle  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  Jone, 
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  throi^h  it  for 
another  week,  or  until  I  reached  Lake  Erie, — I  noticed  an  unaccoantable 


40  TEN  THOUSAND  AALES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

stiffening  of  the  mechanism,  which  "  refused  to  obey  the  helm."  Careful  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*3 "  together  again,  I  supi>ose  that,  at  some  point 
between  the  2,000th  and  3,000th  mile  after  this  second  mending,  I  may  rea- 
sonably expect  that  the  nftck  will  break  a  third  time,  I  can  only  hope,  in 
such  case,  that  my  own  neck  may  not  get  broken  too  I  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  anno3rance  had 
been  given  me,  at  one  time  or  another,  by  the  jarring  out  of  the  brake^crews, 
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,  1881  (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  wliich  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. 


# 
COLUMBIA,  NO.  234.  41 

A  summary  of  the  parts  renewed,  as  described  in  the  foregoing  history  of 
"  Number  234,"  includes  handle-bar,  spring,  backbone,  step,  pedals,  cranks, 
hubs,  axles  and  cones  of  both  wheels,  tires,  bearings  of  fork,  neck  and  socket 
of  neck-pivot,  oil-cups,  spring-bolt,  pair  of  cam-bolts,  cam-braces,  screws  of 
step  and  brake,  one  long  spoke  and  one  short  spoke.  The  total  cost  of  these 
repairs  was  $43.65,  to  which  should  be  added  |20  for  nickel-plating.  The  Mc- 
Kee  &  Harrington  suspension  saddle,  which  proved  useless,  cost  $3.50; 
Pope  c>clometer,  $7 ;  handy  English  tool-bag,  $3 ;  Larason's  luggage-carriers, 
$1.50;  oil,  $1.25;  padlock  and  chain,  pair  of  pocket  oil-cans,  monkey-wrench, 
three  drinking-cups,  rubber  money-pouches,  rubber  cloth  and  bands,  cement, 
sheet  and  chamois  skins,  cost  altogether  $5.25,  making  a  total  for  "extras'* 
of  $21.50. 

As  regards  the  great  subject  of  "  clothes,"  the  bicycle  seems  to  me  a  most 
admirable  instrument  for  getting  the  final  service  out  of  garments  which  have 
passed  their  first  youth,  and  which,  except  for  it,  would  be  laid  aside  until 
sufficiently  moth-eaten  and  antiquated  to  deserve  "  giving  away  to  the  poor." 
It  is  a  sort  of  wheel  which  grinds  up  with  equal  relish  the  black  doeskin 
trousers  of  the  winter  ball-room  and  the  white-flannels  of  the  summer  hotel 
piazza,— concealing  with  equal  charity  the  champagne  stains  of  the  one  and 
the  ice-cream  smears  of  the  other.  I  find,  however,  that,  in  addition  to  the 
numerous  suits  of  "  old  clothes  "  which  I  have  reduced  to  rags  in  the  saddle, 
I  have  expended  for  distinctively  bicycling  habiliments  the  sum  of  $66,  as 
follows:  riding  costume  (green  velveteen  jacket,  hat  and  cap,  corduroy 
breeches  and  silk  stockings),  $29.50 ;  seven  white  flannel  shirts,  $22.50 ;  two 
pairs  of  white  flannel  knee-breeches,  $6.50;  six  pairs  of  riding  gloves,  $5.50. 

The  cost  of  transporting  the  machine  in  its  crate  for  1,600  miles,  on  a 
half-dozen  different  occasions,  has  been  $7.38.  The  fees  given  to  baggage- 
men, with  whom  I  and  my  wheel  have  ridden  5,535  miles,  together  with  a  few 
tolls  and  minor  taxes,  have  amounted  to  $9.  Express  charges  on  baggage 
while  touring  have  reached  a  similar  sum ;  and  I  have  paid  $3  for  rent  of 
hired  machines,  and  as  much  more  for  entrance  tickets  to  races  and  the  like. 
The  sum  total  of  all  these  figures  is  $181.53,  which  represents  the  direct  cost 
of  my  four  seasons'  sport,  in  addition  to  the  $234  paid  for  my  first  mount  on 
"  Number  234."  I  explained  in  the  previous  chapter  how  I  had  been  carried 
with  my  wheel  4»474  miles  on  land,  i,c6i  miles  on  water ;  and  that  the  dis- 
tances I  have  traveled  on  account  of  it  when  not  with  it  amount  to  2,000 
miles,  mostly  on  land.  If  three  cents  be  adopted  as  the  probable  average 
price  paid  per  mile  for  the  transportation  of  myself  through  this  entire  dis- 
Unce  of  7f535  miles,  the  sum  of  $226  is  obtained  as  the  indirect  expenses  of 
indulging  in  6,175  miles  of  bicycling.  That  assumed  "  mileage  "  may  be  a  lit- 
tle in  advance  of  the  true  one,  but  as  the  cost  of  my  personal  subsistence 
while  traveling  must  needs  have  been  somewhat  in  advance  of  what  its  cost 
would  have  been  had  I  stayed  at  home,  the  sum  specified  as  a  probable  esti- 
mate of  "  indirect  expenses "  certainly  cannot  be  greater  than  the  true  one. 


42  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

A  combination  of  all  these  figures  shows  $641  expended  during  four  years  in 
traveling  13,710  miles.  Of  this  exhibit  I  will  simply  say  that  I  only  wish  I 
could  always  be  sure  of  getting  as  much  fun  for  my  money ;  for  no  economist, 
in  counting  up  the  cost  of  his  pleasuring,  was  ever  better  satisfied  with  the 
result  than  I  am  now, — unless,  perhaps,  I  except  the  Arkansaw  Traveler. 


^  When  I  began  my  fifth  season  of  wheeling,  on  the  17th  of  April,  1S83,  t»y 
starting  on  a  three  days'  tour  from  Hartford  to  New  York,  I  little  anticipated 
that  the  old  wheel,  whose  history  during  6,000  miles  of  touring  had  been  de- 
tailed by  me  in  the  March  Wheelman^  was  destined  to  travel  almost  4,000 
miles  within  a  twelvemonth.  I  had  no  possible  idea  that  before  the  year 
was  out  I  should  drive  it  along  more  than  1,000  miles  of  "American  "  road- 
way protected  by  the  British  flag  (in  Canada,  New  Brunswick,  Nova  Scotia, 
Prince  Edward  Island,  Cape  Breton  and  Bermuda);  should  push  it  across 
the  borders  of  a  dozen  States  of  the  Union  (Maine,  Massachusetts,  Rhode 
Island,  Connecticut,  Michigan,  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Mary- 
land, West  Virginia  and  Virginia);  and  should  force  its  ragged  tires  to  mark 
a  continuous  straightaway  trail  on  the  surface  of  the  earth  for  1,400  miles. 

Having  done  all  these  things,  however,  it  seems  proper  that  I  should 
tell  the  story  of  how  the  venerable  mechanism  stood  the  strain  thus  put  upon 
it,  and  of  what  its  condition  was  on  the  very  last  day  of  its  life  as  an  active 
roadster.  That  day  was  the  14th  of  April,  1884 ;  for  when  I  then,  at  half-past 
five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  dismounted  at  the  doorway  of  the  establish- 
ment where  "  Number  234  "  first  came  into  being,  I  was  given  the  assurance 
that  mortal  man  should  never  mount  it  more,  but  that,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
should  itself  be  allowed  to  mount  a  pedestal,  and  repose  there  forever  as  a 
relic — the  object  of  homage  and  reverence  from  all  good  wheelmen  who  may 
be  privileged  to  gaze  upon  its  historic  outlines.  Its  total  record  of  miles, 
when  I  unscrewed  from  its  axle  the  Pope  cyclometer  which  had  counted 
most  of  them  for  me,  was  10,082 ;  but  the'  peculiarity  of  the  record  consists 
not  so  much  in  the  fact  that  the  distance  considerably  exceeds  that  recorded 
by  any  other  wheel  in  America,  as  in  the  fact  that  the  riding  extended  along 
5,000  separate  miles  of  roadway,  situated  in  twenty-three  different  States  and 
Provinces.  Other  Americans  who  have  ridden  10,000  miles  (and  one  who 
has  ridden  1 5,000)  have  each  made  use  of  three  or  four  diiTerent  bicycles,  and 
have  failed  to  traverse  as  much  as  500  separate  miles  of  road. 

The  round  trip  of  60  miles  which  I  made  on  the  i6th  of  August,  going 
from  West  Springfield  to  Hartford  on  the  west  side  of  the  river  and  returning 
on  the  east  side,  was  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  having  the  cones  of  front  axle 
filed  and  refitted,  after  1,132  miles  of  usage  since  April,  and  a  new  brake 

iThe  remainder  of  this  chapter  was  printed  in  The  Sfnringfield  WheelmttCs  Gazette ,  April, 
1884,  pp.  2,  3,  4,  with  the  title  :    "  The  Last  Days  of  '  No.  234'." 


COLUMBIA,  NO.  234.  43 

added,  as  the  original  spoon  was  pretty  well  worn  out.  On  the  return  trip, 
in  the  dusk  of  evening,  the  spreading  roots  of  a  tree  on  a  certain  sidewalk. 
produced  a  severe  fall,  which  caused  the  wheels  to  overlap  one  another,  until 
palled  apart  by  main  strength.  As  a  sequel  to  this  pulling  process  there 
appeared  next  day  a  very  slight  crack  on  the  upper  side  of  the  backbone,  six 
or  seven  inches  from  the  head.  A  ride  of  five  miles  on  a  smooth  road  did 
not  perceptibly  increase  the  crack,  however,  and  I  began  to  hope  that  no 
serious  break  was  betokened,  until  my  first  sudden  stoppage  in  a  sand-rut 
proved  the  hope  to  be  a  vain  one.  After  that,  the  crack  broadened  and  the 
overlapping  increased  at  every  dismount,  until  at  last  the  rear  wheel  entirely 
refused  to  trail  behind  its  leader.  Nothing  was  left  for  me,  therefore,  but  to 
send  the  machine  back  to  Hartford  for  a  new  backbone ;  and  I  improved  the 
occasion  to  order  a  new  steering-head  with  it,  for  the  old  head  (of  a  pattern 
no  longer  used)  had  been  jarred  very  nearly  to  the  breaking  point — ^judging 
by  the  number  of  miles  that  had  been  required  to  cause  fracture  on  the  two 
previous  occasions.  The  first  break  in  the  backbone  itself  happened  on  the 
under  side  thereof,  two  years  before,  when  I  had  ridden  2,993  miles ;  and, 
after  its  repair,  I  rode  4,392  miles  before  the  appearance  of  this  second  break, 
on  the  upper  side.  The  record  of  the  new  backbone,  when  I  took  my  final 
ride  with  it,  was  2,697  miles.  As  the  insertion  of  the  new  head  required  the 
fork  to  be  heated,  a  new  coat  of  nickel  was  then  applied  to  the  same.  The 
new  head  also  required  that  the  spring,  whose  end  was  attached  to  a  clip, 
sliding  on  the  backbone,  should  be  replaced  by  one  of  modern  design. 

A  village  blacksmith  in  Canada  supplied  my  next  demand  for  repairs,  on 
the  15th  of  October,  by  welding  together  the  handle-bar,  which  snapped  off 
sqaare  at  the  right  side  of  the  fork,  as  a  result  of  my  letting  the  wheel  plunge 
down  a  grassy  slope  and  strike  the  handle  upon  a  stone.  Four  days  later, 
another  blacksmith  fitted  some  iron  plates  or  washers  behind  the  bearing- 
boxes,  for  the  shoulders  of  these  had  been  filed  down  so  far,  to  offset  the 
wear  of  the  upper  bearings,  that  the  cams  would  no  longer  hold.  Further 
filings,  in  the  course  of  the  next  week's  journey,  almost  obliterated  the 
"coned  "  character  of  the  boxes  and  reduced  them  nearly  to  the  condition  of 
fiat  pieces  of  metal ;  so  that  at  Cazenovia,  1,488  miles  from  the  time  of  the 
repairs  at  Hartford,  I  was  forced  to  make  my  first  experiment  with  rawhide 
as  a  material  for  bearings.  This  substance  becomes  pliable  after  several  hours' 
soaking  in  water,  and  strips  of  it  can  then  be  fitted  between  the  upper  side 
of  the  axle  and  the  ends  of  the  fork,  to  compensate  for  the  wear  of  the  coned 
surfaces.  When  dry,  the  rawhide  is  about  as  durable  and  unyielding  as  steel ; 
but,  as  I  took  a  ride  of  eight  miles  within  a  few  hours  after  applying  it  to  the 
axle,  and  continued  my  journey  early  the  next  morning,  the  strips  gradually 
worked  out  of  their  places  and  protruded  from  the  sides,  where  they  attracted 
enough  moisture,  in  an  all-day's  ride  through  the  rain,  to  still  further  impair 
their  usefulness.  After  215  miles'  usage,  therefore,  I  replaced  them  with  new 
strips ;  and,  though  I  waited  only  twelve  hours  for  these  to  harden,  they  kept 


44  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

in  position  and  rendered  good  senncc  without  further  attention  for  the  re* 
jnaining  994  miles  of  my  record.  I  doubt  if  1  should  have  been  able  to  finish 
this  without  new  cones  on  the  fork,  unless  I  had  resorted  to  the  rawhide. 
Such  resort,  however,  I  do  not  venture  to  recommend  except  for  bearings 
which  are  very  badly  worn ;  and  I  should  say  that  at  least  twenty-four  hours 
ought  to  be  allowed  for  hardening,  after  the  damp  strips  have  been  applied 
to  the  axle.  I  may  add  that  rawhide  is  an  article  not  readily  procurable,  for 
I  learned  that  in  the  whole  of  Syracuse,  which  is  a  city  of  60,000  people,  there 
was  only  one  place  (a  trunk-maker's)  where  it  could  be  obtained. 

The  tow-path  of  the  Delaware  and  Hudson  Canal,  a  few  miles  from 
Honesdale,  was  the  scene  of  the  worst  mishap  that  ever  befell  **  Number 
234,"  and  its  escape  from  complete  destruction  then  will  always  seem  to  me 
like  a  miracle.  A  pair  of  mules,  standing  on  the  outer  side  of  the  path, 
appeared  to  have  their  attention  so  entirely  absorbed  by  the  feed-baskets 
wherein  their  noses  were  plunged,  that  I  presumed  they  would  not  notice  my 
approach  from  behind,  and  I  accordingly  ventured  to  ride  across  the  tug-rope 
connecting  them  with  the  boat.  No  sooner  had  I  done  this  than  some  evil 
impulse  led  the  brutes  to  pause  in  their  repast  and  take  a  contemplative  g2ue 
at  the  surrounding  scenery.  I  dismounted  at  the  moment  when  I  saw  them 
turn  their  heads ;  but,  in  the  self-same  instant  of  time,  they  gave  a  tremen- 
dous jump  forward ;  the  rope  parted  under  the  sudden  strain,  the  flying  end 
thereof,  glancing  from  my  back,  whipped  itself  into  a  knot  around  the  right 
handle  of  my  bicycle,  and,  quicker  than  I  could  say  "  Jack  Robinson,"  the 
beloved  form  of  "  Number  234  "  was  receding  into  the  distance,,  as  fast  as  a 
pair  of  runaway  mules  could  bang  it  along  the  stones  of  the  tow-path.  They 
were  excited  enough  to  have  willingly  helped  it  "  beat  the  record "  by 
dragging  it  "without  stop  for  a  hundred  miles,"  or  until  they  reached  the 
Hudson  River ;  but  a  lock-house  chanced  to  intervene  at  the  distance  of  an 
eighth  of  a  mile,  and  the  keeper  thereof  rushed  out  and  brought  their  mad 
race  to  an  end.  Just  about  as  he  seized  hold  of  them,  the  front  wheel  came 
against  the  plankihg  of  a  bridge  with  a  tremendous  thump ;  but  I  was  so  far 
in  the  rear  that  I  could  not  see  whether  this  helped  to  cause  the  stoppage ; 
and  I  wa??  9,f\  excited  and  distressed,  when  I  rushed  up  to  view  the  mangled 
remains  of  ihe  wreck,  that  I  cannot  remember  whether  the  jar  of  the  collision 
sufficed  to  release  the  knotted  rope  from  the  handle.  I  only  recall  that  the 
machine  w;is  lying  quietly  there  on  the  bridge,  and  that  the  lock-tender,  a  few 
rods  beyond,  was  driving  away  the  morning  mist  by  the  warmth  of  his  curs- 
ings at  the  mules. 

"  I  am  older  than  some  sorrows," — ^for  no  traveler  on  Life's  highway  ever 
gets  past  its  half-way  stone,  which  marks  the  beginning  of  the  down-grade 
leading  towards  the  place  called  Seventy,  without  having  experiences  that 
cause  him  to  grieve; — ^but  I  cannot  recollect  another  moment  of  my  existence 
when  1  felt  30  thoroughly,  intensely,  desperately  "sick,"  as  that  moment  on 
the  low* path,  out  in  the   wilds  of  Pennsylvania,  when  "  Number  234  "  was 


COLUMBIA,  NO.  234.  45 

whisked  out  of  my  hands,  like  an  object  in  the  *'  transformation  scene ''  of  a 
pantominie.  With  its  destruction,  which  seemed  inevitable,  many  of  my 
cherished  hopes  and  plans  would  fall  in  a  common  ruin.  I  should  never 
again  be  likely  to  have  a  continuous  trail  extending  for  900  miles  behind  me, 
andt  simultaneously,  a  fairly  good  road  of  500  miles  stretching  straightaway 
before  me.  I  could  never  again  reasonably  expect  to  **  beat  the  record  "  of 
coned-bearing  machines,  or  to  win  the  right  of  putting  together  a  book  called 
*•  Ten  Thousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle  "  I  The  thought  of  my  own  reckless 
folly,  in  bringing  about  the  disaster,  filled  my  soul  with  bitterness,  as  I 
hurried  dolefully  along  after  the  runaways.  Other  greater  afflictions  I  had 
endured  cheerfully  as  inexorable  decrees  of  Fate,  for  which  I  was  not  respon- 
sible ;  but  here  was  a  calamity  which  I  had  definitely  and  deservedly  brought 
upon  myself.  So  absorbing  was  my  exasperation  on  this  score  that  the 
thought  of  my  own  personal  peril  in  the  case  did  not  occur  to  me  till  later  in 
the  day.  The  driver  of  the  boat  appreciated  it,  however,  and  his  pleasure  at 
seeing  me  escape  with  my  life  was  great  enough  to  prevent  his  getting  angry 
with  me  for  the  trouble  which  my  mishap  caused  him.  Had  not  his  tow-line 
been  an  old  and  weak  one,  which  gave  way  at  the  first  jerk,  I  myself  should 
necessarily  have  been  pitched  into  the  canal,  and  if  the  bicycle  had  been 
thrown  in  on  top  of  me,  or  if  I  had  come  into  contact  with  the  boat  while 
under  water,  I  should  probably  have  been  killed.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the 
flying  end  of  the  severed  rope  had  chanced  to  bind  my  arm  to  the  bicycle,  in- 
stead of  simply  knotting  around  the  handle,  I  should  have  had  my  own  broken 
bones  to  bewail,  instead  of  "Number  234 's/'  as  the  mules  careered  along. 

And  now  I  come  to  the  miracle  in  the  case,  for  not  a  single  part  of  the 
machine  was  really  broken!  Though  bent  and  cracked  and  scratched  and 
badly  demoralized  in  its  several  parts,  my  beloved  bicycle  had  survived  this 
crucial  test, — ^had  maintained  its  integrity  as  a  whole,  and  was  still  ridable  I 
The  handle-bar  was  doubled  back,  and,  when  I  bent  it  into  its  place  again,  it 
cracked  where  the  splice  had  recently  been  made,  and  soon  broke  off  entirely. 
I  therefore  steered  with  a  wagon-spoke  for  the  next  eight  miles,  until  I 
reached  a  blacksmith  shop  where  I  could  get  the  bar  rewelded.  The  crank 
and  pedal-pin  on  the  right  side  were  considerably  bent,  and  the  axle  was  de- 
flected from  a  true  line,  while  the  rim  was  bent  and  cracked  at  the  point 
where  it  struck  the  bridge,  and  two  or  three  of  the  adjacent  spokes  were 
thereby  loosened  and  made  useless.  One  of  them  broke  off  a  few  days  later, 
and  I  gave  it  for  a  keepsake  to  a  rider  in  Carlisle.  The  iron  plate  of  the 
long-distance  saddle — with  which  I  began  the  season  of  '83,  and  which  served 
me  satisfactorily  to  the  last — ^was  cracked  in  two  places,  so  that  it  never  after- 
wards could  be  screwed  with  perfect  firmness  to  the  spring.  One  end  of  the 
wire  of  my  Lamson  luggage-carrier  was  also  twisted  off,  but  the  carrier,  like 
the  saddle,  I  nevertheless  kept  in  service  until  the  very  last  day  of  the  record. 
That  my  heavy  roll  of  luggage  was  not  shaken  apart  and  scattered  along  the 
path,  seemed  by  no  means  the  least  remarkable  incident  of  the  runaway. 


46  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

At  Port  Jervis,  on  the  day  following,  I  met  the  new  handle-bar,  which  I 
ordered  at  the  time  of  the  first  breakage  in  Canada,  and  it  stood  by  me  to  the 
end,  without  further  accident.  The  old  bar  I  gave  to  a  local  wheelman  who 
befriended  me,  and  who  said  he  would  religiously  preserve  it  as  a  relic  of 
"  the  first  American  tour  of  a  thousand  miles  straightaway," — ^for  I  completed 
that  distance  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  when  the  old  bar 
(whose  entire  record  was  6,798  miles)  served  for  the  last  time  as  my  tiller. 
The  town  of  Staunton,  in  Virginia,  where  my  monumental  ride  was  com- 
pleted, on  the  22d  of  November,  marks  the  end  of  the  macadamized  roadway 
which  stretches  through  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  and  is  continuously  ridable 
from  Greencastle,  the  border  town  of  Pennsylvania,  a  distance  of  1 50  miles. 
As  a  muddy  clay  of  indescribable  tenacity  was  prohibitory  of  progress  beyond 
Staunton,  I  abandoned  all  idea  of  pushing  on  to  the  Natural  Bridge,  and  de- 
cided to  wheel  back  down  the  valley,  and  so  home  to  New  York.  But  the 
bulge  in  the  rim,  resulting  from  the  accident  with  the  mules,  was  sufifidently 
pronounced  to  give  mc  a  definite  jolt  at  each  revolution  of  the  wheel  during 
the  463  miles  subsequently  traversed  in  reaching  the  goal ;  and  I  thought  that, 
before  beginning  the  return  journey,  I  might  perhaps  remedy  the  matter  a 
little  by  "  tightening  up  the  spokes."  It  was  my  first  experience  of  the  sort, 
and  it  proved  quite  effectual, — ^though  not  in  the  manner  intended.  When  I 
had  completed  the  tightening  process,  I  found  the  rim  was  so  badly  twisted 
that  it  would  not  revolve  in  the  fork  at  all ;  and  my  later  efforts  to  "  un- 
buckle "  it  were  quite  in  vain,  though  I  snapped  another  spoke  in  making 
them. 

"  Number  234  "  was  thus  at  last  entirely  disabled, — having  survived  the  at- 
tack of  the  mules  only  to  fall  a  victim  to  my  own  mechanical  awkwardness.  A 
man  from  a  carriage  shop,  who  was  recommended  to  me  as  the  most  skilful 
mechanic  in  town,  said  he  would  not  even  undertake  the  task  of  straightening 
the  wheel  for  less  than  five  dollars,  and  that  he  would  not  agree  to  finish  the 
task  for  any  possible  sum.  I  knew  indeed  that  no  one  outside  of  Hartford 
would  have  the  patience  to  really  put  it  to  rights  again,  and  I  am  told  that  the 
expert  machinist  who  there  did  in  fact  take  it  in  charge  had  a  sad  and  solemn 
time  in  bringing  it  once  more  into  ridable  shape.  I  drove  it  from  Hartford 
to  New  York  in  the  early  part  of  December,  and,  at  the  close  of  the  month, 
rode  a  hundred  miles,  on  the  snow  and  ice,  in  the  region  around  Springfield, 
without  having  a  fall.  I  expected  then  to  do  no  more  touring  with  it,  but  to 
run  off  the  few  remaining  miles  needed  for  a  "  record  "  in  short  spins  of  an 
hour  or  two  at  a  time ;  yet  when  next  I  set  eyes  on  the  wheel,  on  the  6th 
of  March,  it  was  in  the  hold  of  a  steamer  starting  on  a  700-mile  voyage  for 
Bermuda.  Before  I  had  been  there  twenty-four  hours,  the  sudden  turning  of 
a  team  in  front  of  me  forced  me  to  make  a  quick  backward  dismount,  and 
then  fall  forward  with  my  full  weight  on  the  fallen  machine.  The  result  of 
this  was  such  a  severe  bend  or  crack  in  the  right  end  of  the  axle  that  a  com- 
pensating bend  had  to  be  made  in  the  crank  before  the  wheel  would  revolve. 


COLUMBIA,  NO.  234.  47 

On  the  following  day  the  little  tire  worked  loose,  for  the  first  time  in  its  his- 
tory ;  and,  for  the  first  time  in  my  experience,  I  made  use  of  cement  in  re-set- 
ting it.  I  was  obliged  to  ride  ten  miles  before  reaching  the  cement,  however, 
and  as  the  tire  had  been  literally  worn  to  shreds,  and  as  my  supply  of  string 
was  rather  limited,  the  tattered  india-rubber  would  occasionally  bulge  out 
from  the  rim  far  enough  to  strike  the  fork,  and  thus  call  my  attention  to  its 
sad  condition.  In  the  large  tire,  also,  an  indentation,  at  the  point  where  the 
two  ends  had  been  worn  away,  caused  a  definite  jar  at  each  revolution  of  the 
wheel  during  its  last  600  miles.  The  tires  were  both  applied  in  August,  1880, 
and  made  a  total  record  of  8»6oo  miles.  The  splice  in  the  little  one  never 
gave  any  signs  of  coming  apart ;  whereas  the  ends  of  the  big  tire  had  to  be 
many  times  sewed  together  and  glued  down,  until  quite  a  deep  indentation 
was  made.  Cement  was  applied  on  several  occasions  when  general  repairs 
were  in  progress ;  but,  with  the  one  exception  noted,  neither  of  the  tires  ever 
gave  me  any  trouble  by  working  loose  on  the  road,  or  forced  me  to  personally  ■ 
apply  the  cement.    The  little  one  was  finally  worn  down  nearly  to  the  rim. 

The  coned  pedals  which  I  pushed  for  the  first  1,480  miles,  in  1879-80, 
were  brought  into  service  again  for  my  straightaway  tour  of  1,422  miles  and 
the  subsequent  ride  from  Hartford  to  New  York ;  after  which  I  presented 
them  to  Mr.  Canary,  the  professional  trick-rider,  as  a  "  long-distance  "  me- 
mento.  The  exactly  similar  pedals  which  I  used  on  **  the  last  day,"  and  so 
left  attached  to  the  machine,  therefore  have  a  record  of  7,062  miles.  I 
have  been  told  by  an  authority  on  such  matters  that  one  of  the  most  notable 
things  in  the  history  of  "  Number  234  "  is  the  fact  that  such  great  distances 
were  traversed  without  any  breakage  of  pedal-pins;  and,  considering  the 
rough  usage  and  great  strains  which  they  endured,  it  does  appear  to  me  rather 
remarkable.  0!d  age  did  not  seem  to  impair  the  accuracy  of  my  Pope  cyclom- 
eter, for,  in  riding  to  Coney  Island,  on  the  24th  of  March,  when  I  crossed  the 
Brooklyn  Bridge  for  the  first  time,  I  tested  it  at  each  of  the  ten  half-mile 
stones  on  the  Boulevard,  and  found  it  did  not  vary  more  than  a  sixteenth  of 
a  mile  for  the  whole  distance. 

It  had  been  my  intention  that,  when  its  10,000  miles  were  finished,  the 
old  machine  should  be  "  rebuilt,"  with  the  latest  improvements.  I  designed 
to  have  new  bearings,  cranks,  pedals,  tires,  axle,  fork,  brake,  saddle,  handle- 
bar, and  handles, — the  original  rims  and  wires  of  1879  and  the  backbone, 
head  and  spring  of  1883  being  retained  as  a  basis  for  the  **  reconstruction." 
When,  however,  the  rim  in  whose  rigidity  my  long  experience  had  given  me 
entire  confidence,  was  spoiled  by  the  runaway  mules,  I  submitted  to  destiny 
and  decided  to  accept  a  new  machine.  The  Expert  Columbia  bicycle,  on  the 
left  side  o£  whose  fork  may  be  seen  the  inscription  "  Number  234,  Jr.,"  is  a 
close  copy  of  the  old  original,  as  regards  size  and  finish  ;  but  the  makers 
assure  me  that  it  will  be  happily  different  from  it  in  having  much  less  "  his- 
tory" for  me  to  record.  My  experience,  in  having  thoroughly  worn  out  a 
bicycle  of  the  earlier  pattern,  will  at  all  events  qualify  me  to  appreciate  the 


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 !  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  I "    And  that  was  the  very  last  word. 


Addendum,  April  14,  1885. — Pilgrims  to  the  metropolis,  who  may  cr«ve  the  privflege  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  29th  of  May,  1879,  h^  l^^o  driven  by  him  a  distance  of  10,082  miles,  as  measured 
by  Pope  cyclometer,  his  final  ride  having  been  taken  on  the  14th  of  April,  1S84.  In  making 
this  record,  upwards  of  5,000  distinct  miles  of  American  roadway  have  been  traversed,  including 
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  miles  for  each  of  the  five  years  was  as  fol- 
lows :  1879,  fi"^*  y«">  74*  miles;  1880,  second  year,  1,474  miles ;  1881,  third  year,  1,956  miles; 
1882,  fourth  year,  2,002  miles;  1883,  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  ixth  of  October,  1883, 
when  the  machine  had  a  total  record  of  8,228  miles,  it  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 
8,6oS  miles  in  23  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  Ogdensburg),  this 
bicycle  was  driven  from  Detroit,  Mich.,  to  Staunton,  Va.,  making  a  continuoiu  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  yet  reported  of  a  bicycle  in  any  part  of  the  worid,  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 
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  from  San  Francisco 
to  Boston,  estimating  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 
minate  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! 

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 JO, — ^with  a  record  of  46  m.,  for  the  day,  2,002  m.,  for  the  year,  and 
6,175  ra.,  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,  188062,  shows  5,433  m.,  on  187  days,  or  an  aver- 
age ride  of  just  29  m.  On  92  of  these  da3rs,  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  WhetlmoH,  April,  1883,  pp.  56-66. 

4 


50  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

days  on  which  it  was  less  than  five  miles, — the  shortest  record  of  all  being  a 
mile  and  a  quarter. 

My  first  definite  attempt  at  a  long  ride  was  made  on  the  4th  of  May,  18S0, 
when  the  weather  chanced  to  be  extremely  hot.  I  wheeled  22  m.  to  Tarry- 
town  in  six  hours, — ending  a  half-hour  after  mid-day, — and  z\  m.  back  again 
in  four  hours  and  a  half,  ending  at  7.30  o'clock ;  after  which  I  tried  the  Boule- 
vard until  9,  in  order  to  bring  my  day's  record  up  to  soj  m.  1  did  not  better 
this  until  the  17th  of  September  following,  on  the  morning  of  which  day,  at 
7  o'clock,  I  mounted  at  a  farm-house,  16  m.  west  of  Buffalo,  and  rode  two 
hours  and  a  quarter  (15  m.),  to  Silver  Creek,  where  I  stopped  an  hour  for 
breakfast;  then  12m.  more  (two  hours)  to  Fredonia,  where  I  stopped  two 
hours  for  dinner ;  at  Westfield,  1 5  m.  further,  I  halted  half  an  hour,  till  5 
o'clock ;  then  rode  another  1 5  m.  in  another  two  hours,  to  North  East,  making 
from  the  start  a  trifle  more  than  57  m.  in  a  trifle  more  than  twelve  hours, 
whereof  four  hours  had  been  given  to  rests.  As  my  baggage  was  at  the  Reed 
House,  in  Erie,  about  16  m.  further  on,  and  as  the  road  was  said  to  continue 
smooth  and  level,  and  the  moon  promised  occasionally  to  shine,  I  rode  or 
walked  that  additional  distance  between  8  and  11.30  p.  m.,  and  so  made  a  rec- 
ord of  73  m.,  which  has  remained  my  "  best "  ever  since.  Had  the  wind  been 
with  me  rather  than  against  me  during  the  twelve  hours  of  daylight,  I  am 
confident  I  should  have  covered  the  whole  distance  in  that  time,  even  with  a 
third  of  the  interval  spent  in  repose ;  and  I  think,  under  similarly  favorable 
conditions,  I  could  ride  100  m.  straightaway  by  daylight  on  that  track,  if  I 
really  exerted  myself  to  do  so.  Though  I  had  but  four  hours'  sleep  that 
night,  I  felt  sufficiently  fresh  next  day  to  ride  45  m.  further  to  Ashtabula,  be- 
tween 9.30  A.  M.  and  8  p.  m.,  making  118  m.  within  37  hours;  and  only  once 
since  then  have  I  made  a  better  record  for  two  days,  and  that  only  a  mile 
better.  On  the  previous  day  I  had  ridden  from  Niagara  (38  m.),  so  that  m 
three  days  I  made  a  straight  push  of  156  m.  through  the  territory  of  three 
different  States. 

The  nearest  approach  since  made  to  this  was  my  ride  of  1 54  m.  through 
Massachusetts,  on  the  first  three  days  of  June,  188 1,  after  having  ridden 
133  m.  on  the  last  four  days  of  May,  and  penetrated  the  borders  of  New 
Hampshire  and  Maine.  This  was  the  first  case  of  my  tnounting  the  wheel  for 
seven  successive  days,  and  the  record  of  287  m.  (whereof  1 19  m.  belonged  to 
the  final  37  hours)  still  remains  my  best  for  that  period.  My  next  continuous 
week  of  riding  was  just  a  year  later,  and  amounted  to  251  m.,  whereof  75  m. 
were  run  off  in  Chicago,  on  the  last  three  days  of  May,  and  the  remaining 
177  m.  in  a  straight  push  among  the  hills  of  Kentucky,  on  the  first  four  days 
of  June.  My  third  ride  of  a  week,  as  described  in  the  January  issue  of  this 
magazine,  was  made  continuously  on  the  soil  of  New  York,  from  Syracuse  to 
Waverly,  beginning  September  28,  and  covering  280  m,  though,  as  it  begun 
and  ended  at  noon,  there  were  parts  of  eight  calendar  dAf&  devoted  to  it. 
Next  to  these  records  must  be  ranked  my  six  days'  ride  of  204  m., — ^up  the 


MV  234  RIDES  ON  ''NO.  234."  51 

Connecticut  valley,  across  to  Lake  George,  and  down  the  Hudson  valley  to 
Hudson, — August  22-27,  1S81 ;  and  my  six  days*  ride  of  203  m.  ''along  the 
Potomac,"  October  22-27,  1881.  There  were  no  essential  repetitions  made 
in  either  of  the  last-named  tours;  but  the  railroad  had  to  be  resorted  to  in 
both  cases,  so  that  the  tracks  were  neither  of  them  absolutely  continuous 
ones.  Indeed,  the  longest  uninterrupted  path  I  have  traversed  over  was  that 
connecting  Syracuse  with  Waverly,  for  my  wheel  rolled  over  every  foot  of  the 
distance,  and  all  the  repetitions  indulged  in  could  not  have  much  exceeded  a 
dozen  miles.  Here,  too,  I  may  be  allowed  the  parenthetical  remark  that  I 
should  be  glad  to  see  the  long-distance  club-riding  of  1883  assume  the  phase 
of  rivalry  in  respect  to  length  of  straightaway  tracks  covered,  or  at  least  in 
respect  to  length  of  roundabout  tracks,  which  admit  of  no  second  usage.  Let 
the  ambitious  long-distance  club-men  cease  their  vain  repetitions  over  short 
circuits  and  well-known  stretches,  and  henceforth  strive  rather  to  show  how 
great  a  stretch  of  actual  country  they  can  push  themselves  across,  in  a  single 
definite  direction,  within  the  limits  of  a  single  calendar  day  1 

The  third  and  last  time  in  1880,  when  I  rode  as  much  as  50  m.  in  a  day, 
was  on  the  24th  of  September,  when  I  finished  my  tour  of  495  m.  by  wheeling 
across  the  hills  of  New  Jersey,  from  Stanhope  to  Washington  Square,  53J  m. 
There  were  seven  other  days  in  that  year  on  which  I  rode  upwards  of  40  m. 
and  nineteen  days  in  1881  whereof  the  same  can  be  said.  The  ten  of  these 
which  had  a  record  of  50  m.  or  more  were  as  follows :  March  5,  on  the 
asphalt  of  Washington,  with  the  right  end  of  the  handle-bar  broken  off,  7  a. 
M.  to  10  p.  M.,  66i  m. ;  April  30,  Orange,  Newark,  and  New  York,  9  a.  m.  to 
8  P.  M.,  50J  m. ;  June  2,  Boston,  Cambridge,  Lexington,  Waltham,  Framing- 
ham,  and  Northboro,  9  A.  M.  to  8  p.  M.,  54!  m. ;  June  3,  Northboro,  Worces- 
ter, Ware,  and  West  Springfield,  5.35  a.  m.  to  9.45  p.  m.,  64i  m. ;  August  22, 
West  Springfield,  Greenfield,  Brattleboro,  and  Putney,  7  a.  m.  to  7.10  p.  M., 
52I  m. ;  August  26,  Fort  Edward,  Albany,  and  Schodac,  5.35  A.  M.  to  7.55  p. 
M.,  57ini.;  September  7,  Sayville,  Hicksville,  Flushing,  and  New  York, 
52jni.;  October  23,  Frederick,  Williamsport,  and  Lock  No.  59  on  Chesa- 
peake and  Ohio  Canal,  6.45  A.  M.  to  5.35  p.  m.,  54  m. ;  October  26,  Point  of 
Rocks  and  Washington,  6  a.  m.  to  9  p,  m.,  $o\  m. ;  December  21,  Orange, 
Newark,  and  Washington  Square,  10.30  a.  m.  to  9  p.  m.,  60}  m.  In  1882  there 
were  17  days  in  which  my  record  exceeded  40  m.,  and  the  half-dozen  of  these 
in  which  it  reached  the  50  m.  limit  were  as  folloM's :  May  26,  New  York, 
Tarrytown,  Nyack,  Englewood,  and  Jersey  City,  8  A.  M.  to  9  P.  M.,  51m.; 
June  2,  Sadieville,  Georgetown,  Lexington,  and  Harrodsburg  (Ky.),  11  A.  M. 
to  11.20  P.  M.,  6ilm.  J  June  7,  Louisville  and  Frankfort,  10.30  A.  M.  to  9  P.  M., 
52i  m.;  November  4,  Orange,  Newark,  and  New  York,  9  a.  m.  to  7  p.  m., 
50m. ;  November  7,  New  York  to  Tarrytown  and  back,  51  Jm. ;  November  21, 
New  York  and  Bridgeport,  7.40  a.  m.  to  7.20  p.  m.,  55!  m. 

It  was  at  the  beginning  of  my  second  season,  when  my  forty-ninth  day's 
ride  had  given  me  a  record  of  775  m.,  that  I  first  ventured  to  try  any  coasting. 


5'  TEAT  THOUSAA^D  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

'wth  my  Ie<fs  on  th    k 

occasions  for  more'  ^f^^'"'  '"^  ^  ""'P'  ""■»  "^^i*  my  hands  wad, 
w>«n  I  first  acquired  thrtn,!  T"""  »f"™"<l».  »'  ""til  Angast,,** 
t-on  of  the  bar.     fust  f„,  °*  ProP"-ly  placing  them  on  the  inside « 

accomplished  quite  a  feat  •     T  *""°  "**  '^^  '"*  "»»«'  I  l™^' 

to  96th  St,  through  Fifth  r  "'•"''"8  *'"»out  stop  from  Washington  Sqmc 

"''th  Belgian  blocks     I  h,.   """''  *'  '^'  *'«  ™"~  of  wWch  are  |>»«1 

thing  like  as  g«at  a  distanl  "*T  ''"*  """'*<•  °»"  *e  stones"  forMr- 

the  Square,  down  Broadwav  ff  .r^  continuously,  though  I  once  went  &<» 

■nounts  in  the  two  miles     r*       u  °"  ^"^'  ""''"■"«•  P^'haps.  a  doie»  dis- 

whole  length  of  Manhatt'an  r^"  ?""  "'"""  ""=  "'^^'t  "^  P«Jaling  through  the 

the  saddle  was  at  Orange  o^t""  ,'"  ""'  '"'"^^^^    My  fet  "long  sJy"  » 

'T  and  needless  dismount  fl^^''^'  '^'  '"'«"'  "«Pt  for  one  moL.- 

hour,  and  accomplished  lh7™«  "^^"*^  °*«'"="'  '  "t'Pt  agoing  j«  x, 

thirteen  miles  on  the  BouT/v^r  ^    ?"  "*'  ^'^  °^  August  fo«oi4ldid 

«°P  a  quarter  of  an  hoJ^S-tth  T  \°"  '"''  »  ''^'^'  •"»■"•"«  °°«  »«<"« 

f»'f-    Five  days  later.  i„  ^^J^'^'"' .'"'"'  the  record  was  ten  miles  a«d  a 

I  rode  twelve  miles  without  stoT''^'°"'  *'«^"  "'«  ~ads  we«  rather  moddr. 

fh/M;"'"""'""""",  caS^dZ  rK*",""""  *"''  three^uarters.  and.  ^ 

^hould  have  done  the  ^teZtlt    .'  "^"""^  "P  "'  »  -''«<>"  'n  the  Z, 

real^  notable  "stay"  i„  ^l^t^^^^J^  ">«««  «»'de  of  two  horns.    My  first 

;^">ber  ,6.  „hen.  " mounting  at^f'    7u'"'  *«  '"=«'«  »  ">°"th  laterf Se^ 

°;  N-agara,  I  went  southw^d  L  ^      ""'  ''"''«'' '"  the  outskirts  of  the  vfllage 

^vmg  the  wind  against  mTalT;:"' '"°'' '"''  '^™- '"  ^°  "-"  and  a  5 

ram  durmg  the  third  half.ho„r     uJ7iT^  'f''^  '''^""y  ^P-^^d  -U 

a  ^s™        ""'«'"  '«''.  beyond  wl    i*"  '°"' '"  "^  '^T  hard  dav,  which 

a  dismount,  there  is  a  long  but  no?  '^'^  where  the  bridge  almos't  caused 

m^rtance  between  Nia^^'^l^";;;^'';  ''"=?' """'  '"'-''  »  '"«  -^J  ^  << 

Si      '''""'  ''"•^««  "ith  difficultvf H      ""^  "«•"  ''"''  "««  to  the  left, 

the  left  »K.     """8  the  bridge   and  T    .        ^  ^^"""^  *°  the  road  for  a 
«°P  for  tr;"'  '!''  '°  '"e  Linco^  ^i^l  T'"  "'""  '''^  «"*  'treet  to 

^-  Ni^:.»  "'^ '  "^^ «"« furthe:';;:^^  Bi^tHart  °"  rr 

,    .My  next -long  stay  ..„  »'°  C.ty  Hall,  twenty  m,le, 

-^ra3"--rv-r£- 

— c  condi.ons  similarly  V-kbr/tSd  t:;^ /"^ 


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 
2u(5  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  sjiddle  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  29J  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 
Ihb  "  Tarrytown  triumph,"  which  I  printed  in  The  Wfuel  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 
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 


54  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  fun  of  it,"  rather  than  for  the  sake  of  "  seeing  what  I  can  do,"  and  that 
one  achievement  of  this  sort  is  quite  enough  for  my  ambition.  There  is  so 
much  more  comfort  in  frequent  dismounts,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  to 
gratify  thirst,  that  I  lack  all  desire  for  further  *'  triumphs  **  of  such  nature 
that  the  pursuit  of  them  brings  into  painful  prominence  before  the  mind  the 
justice  of  the  celebrated  remark  of  the  Governor  of  North  Carolina  to  the 
Governor  of  South  Carolina. 

The  severest  test  ever  given  my  physique  by  bicycling,  however,  was  not 
by  that  four  hours'  steady  push,  on  the  7th  of  last  November,  but  rather  by 
an  all-day  jaunt  on  the  7th  of  September,  1881, — a  date  memorable  in 
atmospheric  annals  as  "  the  hottest  on  record  for  seven  years,"  all  along  the 
Atlantic  slope.  "  In  many  places  the  thermometer  marked  100°  in  the  shade 
for  several  hours,  and,  as  I  rode  in  the  sun,  I  must  have  been  exposed  to  a 
heat  of  no**  to  125**  from  9  a.  m.  to  3  or  4  P.  M.  Between  6.07  A.  m.,  when  I 
mounted  at  Sayville,  and  7.05  p.  m .,  when  I  plunged  my  burning  head  into 
the  public  fountain  at  Flushing,  the  cyclometer  recorded  50^  m.,  and  two 
more  miles  were  added  between  the  ferry  and  Washington  Square.  The  ride 
was  the  only  one  of  my  experience  in  which  the  motion  through  the  atmos- 
phere had  no  cooling  effect.  The  air  itself,  as  it  struck  against  one's  cheeks, 
seemed  blazing  hot,  as  if  literally  it  had  come  from  a.  furnace.  I  should  be 
afraid  to  estimate  the  amount  of  water  and  other  liquids  which  I  absorbed 
that  day.  I  drank  at  every  possible  drinking-place,  and  I  dashed  cold  water 
on  my  fiery  face  as  often  as  the  chance  was  offered  me.  At  Flushing,  while 
waiting  for  the  homeward  train,  I  refreshed  myself  with  ice-cream,  soda- 
water,  melons,  peaches,  and  other  such  things,  which  the  average  idiot,  who 
disbelieves  in  the  wisdom  of  obeying  Nature's  demands,  declares  to  be  deadly 
indulgences  for  a  man  who  is  unendurably  hot."  Perhaps  I  myself  seem  a 
rather  worse  idiot  than  the  average  for  venturing  to  get  my  anatomy  into 
such  a  heated  condition ;  but  it  endured  the  test  without  any  excessive  dis- 
comfort, and  without  any  subsequent  ill  effects.  I  shouldn't  deliberately  have 
chosen  so  hot  a  day  for  a  spin  through  Long  Island;  but,  as  I  was  headed  for 
home,  I  wanted  to  "  get  there,"  and,  though  the  heat  seemed  extraordinary,  I 
didn't  realize  until  I  read  the  next  day's  papers  that  it  was  "  the  greatest  heat 
on  record  in  seven  years,"  and  that  I  had,  therefore,  accomplished  a  somewhat 
dangerous  and  foolhardy  feat  in  pushing  50  m.  through  the  hottest  of  it. 

I  have  not  had  many  serious  tumbles  since  the  great  original  elbow- 
breaking  act  of  Thursday,  May  29,  1879.  The  only  time  I  have  been  inten- 
tionally upset  was  in  November  of  that  year,  while  touring  from  New  Haven 
to  New  York,  when  a  bold,  bad  boy  at  Port  Chester  suddenly  lifted  up  my 
rear  wheel  and  sent  me  sprawling  into  the  dirt,  without  a  shadow  of  a  warning. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  unexpectedness  of  the  fall  which  made  it  absolutely  pain- 
less; and  I  have  charity  enough  to  believe  that  the  graceless  youth  designed 
rather  to  make  the  wheel  give  me  a  good  jolting  than  to  really  spill  me  off. 
Once,  on  the  Boulevard,  when  a  crowd  of  small  school-boys  were  running 


MY  234  RIDES  ON  "  NO.  234."  55 

around  about  me,  with  the  customary  yells  and  outcries,  my  wheel  knocked 
one  of  them  down  and  pitched  me  simultaneously  into  the  dust  It  chanced 
that  he  was  intent  in  a  game  of  "  tag  "  with  another  boy,  and  so,  being  uncon- 
scious of  the  approaching  wheel,  which  the  rest  of  the  crowd  were  watching, 
he  suddenly  jumped  in  front  of  it,  with  the  result  indicated.  He  assured  me, 
though,  as  soon  as  he  brushed  away  the  tears  of  surprise  with  his  dusty 
sleeve,  that  he  "  wasn't  at  all  hurt ";  and,  as  I  could  say  the  same  for  myself, 
I  jogged  on.  I  think  this  was  the  only  time  when  my  wheel  ever  came  in 
collision  with  any  living  creature ;  though  once,  at  Newark,  some  wretched 
brutes  persuaded  a  boy  who  was  really  an  imbecile  to  stand  in  my  path  in 
order  to  be  knocked  down.  Boys  not  bereft  of  their  wits,  of  course,  often  do  so 
stand,  and  then  jump  aside  at  the  last  practicable  moment ;  but  in  the  case 
mentioned  I  fortunately  noticed  the  vacant  look  in  the  child's  face,  and  so 
turned  out  for  him.  On  the  sidewalk  at  Niagara,  one  evening,  a  quick  dis- 
mount alone  saved  my  touching  a  little  girl,  who  suddenly  sprang  out  of  a 
door-way,  and  who  was  a  good  deal  scared  at  her  narrow  escape.  I  was  rid- 
ing quite  slowly,  however ;  and  I  have  done  a  great  deal  of  careful  wheeling, 
on  sidewalks  thronged  with  pedestrians,  without  ever  once  coming  to  grief. 
I  never  yet  used  bell  or  whistle ;  as  the  human  voice  seems  to  me  to  be  a 
a  more  effective,  as  well  as  a  more  civil,  instrument  for  giving  warning. 

On  May  Day,  1880,  a  bad  tumble  and  bent  crank  suitably  rewarded  my 
vain  attempts  to  raise  my  hat  gracefully  to  a  noble  brakeman,  who  shouted  at 
me  from  a  passing  railroad  train ;  and  within  an  hour  afterwards,  when  1 
essayed  to  cross  a  few  inches  of  water  which  seemed  to  have  a  hard  bed 
beneath  it,  my  wheel  performed  the  great  stand-still  act,  and  rested  firmly 
upon  its  head,  leaving  me  resting  firmly  upon  my  feet.  A  similarly  curious 
stoppage  occurred  down  in  Kentucky,  last  June,  when  I  was  toiling  slowly 
up-hill  in  the  dark,  and  encountered  a  loose  lump  of  the  newly-laid  macadam : 
my  machine  keeled  over  and  stood  quietly  on  its  head,  leaving  me  upright 
on  my  feet  in  front.  That,  I  believe,  was  the  only  spill  I  had  in  my  entire 
tour  of  340  m.;  and  in  my  500  m.  ride  of  1880  I  was  thrown  but  once.  This 
happened  at  Westlield,  when,  in  attempting  to  make  too  short  a  turn  from  the 
hard  roadway  into  the  softer  sidewalk,  and  not  giving  allowance  for  the  swift- 
ness with  which  the  wind  was  blowing  me  along,  I  was  obliged  either  to  let 
my  wheel  slam  squarely  against  an  iron  fence,  or  to  send  it  sprawling  side- 
wise  into  the  sand.  The  result  of  accepting  the  latter  alternative  was  the 
scraping  of  a  few  square  inches  of  skin  from  my  knee,  elbow,  and  hand,  but 
no  serious  disablement  to  myself  or  my  vehicle.  '  In  my  400  m.  tour  of  last  Sep- 
tember I  made  no  involuntary  dismounts  without  landing  on  my  feet  (though 
the  wheel  itself  had  a  few  falls),  and  I  am  almost  sure  that  the  same  could 
be  said  of  the  800  m.  afterwards  ridden  over  before  the  close  of  the  year, 
though  I  had  one  side-fall  in  trying  to  mount  a  Harlem  curbstone  in  the  dark. 
On  the  other  hand,  during  the  first  of  my  "  six  days  along  the  Potomac  "  I  had 
two  headers  within  the  space  of  an  hour, — one  in  going  up  hill,  the  other  in 


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  repeated.  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  quite  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 


Afy  234  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 
▼ery  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  exasperating  instance  which  I 
recall  being  that  of  the  ruffian  who  directed  one  of  the  four-horse  cpaches  of 
a  hotel  at  Lake  George.  On  Staten  Island,  last  September,  I  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  York, 
which  were  driven  by  women,  who  persisted  in  "  hauling  them  in,"  until,  in 
the  former  case,  a  wheel  was  cramped  off,  and  in  the  latter  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  t^em.  Both  of 
these  were  fancy  nags, — one  in  Ohio,  the  other  at  Ticonderoga, — whose 
drivers,  being  possessed  with  a  vain  pride  in  their  ability  to  control  them,* 
ordered  me  to  "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  to  wheel  about  and  kick  their 
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  glad  of  a 
chance  to  shy  at  any  moving  object  whatever. 

Flaving  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  hands  of  a  clumsy  blacksmith.  I  have  had  an 
oil-can  stolen  from  a  Brooklyn  bar-room,  which  I  honored  for  a  week  with  the 
presence  of  my  wheel,  and  a  monkey-wrench  stolen  from  a  similar  resort  in 
Harlem,  under  similar  conditions.  Another  beer-seller  of  Brooklyn  said  he 
was  on  the  point  of  selling  my  machine,  because,  as  I  failed  to  return  on  the 
exact  day  specified,  he  concluded  that  I  meant  to  abandon  it  to  him ;  and  that 
he  was  only  waiting  for  an  advance  on  the  first  offer  that  had  been  made  him 


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.  15s.  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 ./<?  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  and  Hunter's  Point;  once,  in  1881, 
when  I  pushed  up  the  smooth,  black  surface  of  the  misnamed  Sandy  Hill  at 
Fort  Edward ;  and  again,  on  the  first  day  of  last  October,  when  I  ascended 
the  sharp  grade  at  Mount  Morris,  and  earned  my  right  to  a  hearty  breakfast 
at  the  Scoville  House  on  top.     I  remember,  to  be  sure,  that  a  Fort  Edward 


MY  234  RIDES  ON  "  NO.  234."  59 

rider  has  kindly  informed  me  in  print  that  my  puoh  up  Sandy  Hill  was 
**  nothin'  at  all  to  brag  on  " ;  and  I  presume  that  other  experienced  ones  may 
say  the  same  of  the  other  little  knolls  I  have  alluded  to.  I  will  not  venture 
to  contradict  them.  All  I  say  is,  that  when  I  found  myself  on  the  summits  in 
question,  with  "  Number  234  "  still  responding  steadily  to  my  tread,  I  felt 
bound  to  complacently  stroke  its  head  and  remark,  "  Bully  for  you,  old  boy  I " 
>fy  weight  has  recently  kept  pretty  constantly  in  the  neigl^borhood  of 
140  pounds,  which,  I  think,  is  five  pounds  more  than  I  ever  attained  to  before 
becoming  a  bicycler, — the  greatest  variations  in  my  weight,  as  observed  by  me 
during  the  previous  decade,  being  from  130  to  135  pounds.  I  am  five  feet  five 
inches  in  height,  and  the  inside  length  of  my  leg  is  thirty-three  inches.  While 
visiting  a  rink  at  Washington,  in  March,  i88i,  I  found  no  difficulty  in  driving 
a  52-inch  Special  Columbia,  whose  pedals  had  been  shortened  up  toward  the 
axle,  though  I  felt  decidedly  "scarey"  when  first  lifted  into  such  a  lofty 
saddle,  and  the  subsequent  acts  of  mounting  unassisted  were  rather  tiresome. 
On  two  previous  occasions  I  had  propelled  48-inch  and  so-inch  wheels  for 
short  distances,  say  a  sixteenth  of  a  mile,  but  my  first  road-ride  on  any  other 
machine  than  "  Number  234"  was  on  the  afternoon  of  April  10,  1882,  when 
I  covered  31 J  m.,  in  the  region  around  Springfield  and  Holyoke,  on  a  new 
48-inch  Standard  Columbia,  which  had  not  previously  been  ridden  as  much  as 
fifty  miles.  Five  months  later,  September  8,  in  the  same  region,  I  again  rode 
31 1  m.  between  9  A.  M.  and  6.30  P.  M.  (taking  a  rest  of  three  hours  at  mid- 
day) on  a  50-inch  Expert  Columbia,  whose  pedals  were  extended  to  their  full 
limit  only  during  the  last  four  miles.  Had  I  allowed  these  two  rides  in  my 
log,  my  record  of  miles  ridden  up  to  the  close  of  1882  would  have  been  6,238. 
I  had  no  falls  while  riding  either  of  these  "  large  "  machines.  I  climbed 
the  hills  which  I  had  long  been  wont  to  climb  with  my  46-inch,  and  I  appar- 
ently found  no  more  difficulty  than  usual  in  climbing  them.  Indeed,  I  drove 
the  4&-inch  up  the  south  slope  of  the  church  hill  in  West  Springfield,  which 
I  have  never  been  able  to  overcome  with  "  Number  234."  I  was  not  def- 
initely convinced  that  the  effort  of  driving  these  larger  wheels  was  either 
greater  or  less  than  the- effort  of  driving  my  smaller  one.  When,  however,  I 
pulled  off  my  boots  on  the  evening  of  the  April  ride,  severe  "  cramps  '*  ran 
through  the  calves  of  my  legs,  and  I  found  that,  for  a  few  minutes,  it  was  a 
difficult  and  painful  matter  to  "  straighten  them  out."  As  I  had  done  no  wheel- 
ing whatever  for  a  period  of  nearly  four  months,  this  unpleasant  phenomenon 
did  not  necessarily  prove  that  the  4S-inch  was  "  too  large  a  size  for  me  " ;  but 
when  I  tried  the  5o-inch  (after  a  period  of  six  weeks*  abstinence  from  the 
saddle)  the  same  phenomenon  was  repeated  with  increased  intensity.  It  was 
with  great  difficulty  that  I  removed  my  boots  both  at  noon  and  night ;  even 
during  the  last  hours  of  riding  the  crarai>-like  pains  were  present,  and,  for  a 
week  afterwards,  occasional  twinges  would  go  through  my  legs. 

I  felt  pretty  well  convinced  by  this  experience  of  30  m.  that  a  day's  ride 
of  50  or  60  m.  on  a  50-inch  would  be  apt  to  inflict  upon  me  serious  suffering, 


6o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

if  not  temporary  disablement,  and  that  a  week's  tour  of  say  280  m.  would  be 
cither  impossible  of  accomplishment,  or  else  prove  a  painful  and  difficult  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  most 
difficult  rides  on  "  Number  234,"  I  never  yet  had  any  feeling  of  cramp  or 
muscular  stiifness,  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  b  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 


AfV  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,  ^  ^^^  ^^^  ^^^  ^^  ^  ^^"^  among  the 
White  Mountains,  I  went  on  foot  from  the  Flume  to  Littleton,  a  distance  of  1 5 
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 
mle.  A  Mth  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 
d^ee.     For  many  years  my  simple  and  savage  custom  has  been  to  "eat 


62  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

when  I  was  hungry,"  or  when  food  was  conveniently  accessible,  whether  once, 
twice,  thrice,  or  four  times  a  day,  whether  at  daybreak  or  at  midnight.  That 
this  course  should  be  pursued  without  prejudice  to  health  is,  perhaps,  due  to 
my  profound  faith  in  the  first  LatiA  maxim  ever  given  me  to  construe: 
Fames  condimentum  est  optimum.  "A  good  appetite"  has,  indeed,  always 
been  with  me,  and  I  have  never  doubted  that  it  was  "  the  best  sauce."  1  have 
never  spoiled  it  by  making  trial  of  tobacco  or  fire-water,  or  highly  spiced 
dishes.  I  have  not  even  tasted  tea  or  coffee  since  I  was  a  boy  of  fifteen. 
Otherwise  I  am  omnivorous,  and  take  with  a  relish,  and  with  sure  digestion, 
all  sorts  of  eatables, — flesh,  fish,  fowl,  vegetables,  or  fruit, — which  are  ever 
anywhere  offered  for  human  consumption,  provided,  of  course,  that  they  have 
not  been  doctored  with  pepper  or  other  fiery  sauces. 

Perhaps  the  foregoing  explains  why  I  never  feel  the  need  of  "  going  into 
training  "  for  a  tour.  I  am  always  "  in  training."  I  am  always  in  condition 
to  enjoy  a  day*s  ride  of  forty  miles  on  a  bicycle,  even  though  I  may  not  have 
mounted  it  for  months.  I  sometimes  have  occasion  to  laugh  on  being  told  of 
people  who  mistake  me  for  an  invalid,  on  account  of  the  lack  of  ruddy  color 
in  my  face;  for,  in  reality,  I  have  been  exceptionally  lucky  in  avoiding  all 
approach  to  serious  illness  since  my  early  childhood.  During  a  period  of 
more  than  twenty  years,  ending  with  the  last  week  of  the  summer  of  'Sz,  I 
never  was  confined  to  my  bed  by  illness,  I  never  swallowed  any  medicine, 
and  I  never  asked  advice  of  any  physician.  An  attack  of  chills  and  fever 
(the  penalty,  doubtless,  of  my  neglect  of  bicycling  during  the  two  months  pre- 
vious) then  forced  me  for  the  first  time  to  strike  the  flag  to  Fate,  and  enter 
his  hospital  for  a  week's  dosing  with  quinine.  Nevertheless,  within  three 
weeks  afterwards,  I  started  forth  on  my  pleasant  autumn  tour  of  400  m.,  and 
no  reminder  of  my  illness  kept  me  company.  Since  then,  however,  I  have 
noticed  that  the  strain  of  holding  the  handle-bar  for  40  or  50  m.  is  sufficient  to 
remind  me  of  the  weakness  in  my  left  elbow,  caused  by  dislocating  it  on  the 
occasion  of  my  first  mount  in  1879,  though  in  the  three  years  which  elapsed 
between  that  event  and  the  attack  of  fever  the  existence  of  such  weakness 
was  never  once  suggested  to  me. 

The  statement  of  my  habits  and  beliefs  in  regard  to  drinking  while  on 
the  road  has  been  reserved  to  the  end,  for  the  sake  of  emphasis.  My  prac- 
tice is  in  direct  defiance  of  the  teachings  of  "that  eminent  London  writer, 
Benjamin  Ward  Richardson,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,"  in  his  "  rules  for  health  in  tri- 
cycling," as  reprinted  from  Good  Wards  in  77ie  Wheelman  for  January.  My 
practice  is  in  flat  opposition  to  the  solemn  warnings  of  all  the  other  eminent 
medicine-men,  from  A  to  Z,  whose  prolonged  contemplation  of  the  needs  of 
the  human  body  in  its  phases  of  disease  has  robbed  them  of  the  vision  which 
enables  the  unsophisticated  savage  to  clearly  see  its  needs  in  a  state  of 
health.  My  practice  is  to  drink  freely,  frequently,  unstintedly  I  How  else 
can  a  man,  who  sweats  as  copiously  as  I  do,  preserve  his  comfort,  or  rightly 
regulate  his  temperature?    Fire-water  always  excepted,   I   eagerly  imbibe 


MY  234  RIDES  ON  ''NO,  234."  63 

almost  every  conceivable  beverage  that  comes  within  reach.  Water,  ice- 
water,  soda-water,  mineral-water,  lemonade,  milk,  chocolate,  sarsaparilla,  root- 
beer,  lager,  shandygaff,  ale,  porter,  half-and-half,  cider,  and  light  wines, — all 
these  "drinks  "  I  swallow  in  great  quantities,  when  heated  by  riding;  and  I 
also  delight  in  chopped  ice,  water-ices,  ice-cream,  melons,  lemons,  oranges, 
apples,  and  all  sorts  of  juicy  fruits.  Solid  food  is  of  small  consequence  to 
me  on  a  hot  day's  ride,  but  drink  I  must  have  and  plenty  of  it.  "  Drink  as 
little  as  possible  "  ?  Well,  I  should  smile !  Rather  do  I  drink  as  much  as 
possible,  and  thank  Mother  Nature  betimes  for  the  keen  ph3rsical  delight  im- 
plied in  the  possession  of  so  intense  a  healthy  thirst  simultaneously  with  the 
means  of  gratifying  it  healthily !  Your  little  riding-rules  may  do  well  enough 
for  babes  and  sucklings  of  the  tricycle,  Dr.  Richardson ;  but  don't  you  pre- 
sume to  thrust  them  upon  a  six-thousand-mile  bicycler  like  me  !  How  I  wish 
that  you,  or  some  other  abstemious  Fellow  (of  the  Royal  Society,  London), 
had  tried  to  trundle  a  tricycle  behind  me  for  fifty  miles  through  the  blazing 
sands  of  Long  Island  on  that  historic  "  hottest  day  of  seven  years  " !  Per- 
haps then  you  would  have  adopted  my  theory  that  thirst,  under  such  circum- 
stances, is  one  of  Nature's  warning  signals  which  it  were  dangerous  to  dis 
regard.  Perhaps,  again,  you  would  have  preferred  pertinaciously  to  die  for 
your  theory,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  buried  with  Truth  at  the  bottom  of  one 
of  the  numerous  wells  which  I  that  day  drank  dry!  I'm  sorry  to  appear 
uncivil,  but  my  rage  at  your  repressive  rules  must  be  given  vent,  and  so  I 
finally  break  out  into  rhyme  in  this  way : — 

Just  hear  the  roar,  "  Two-Thirty-Four," 

Of  all  these  learned  buffera, 
Who  say  they  think  't  is  wrong  to  drink 

When  raging  thirst  one  suffers ! 
But  you  and  I  know  that 's  a  lie, 

And  so  I  shout  out  glidly  : — 
"  Dnnk  all  you  can,  my  thirsty  man, 

Nor  choke  in  saddle  sadly ! 
Don't  ever  fear  good  lager-beer, 

When  there 's  no  water  handy ; 
Drink  pints  of  ale,  milk  by  the  pail, 

But  never  rum  nor  brandy  I 
Dritik  half-and-half,  or  shandygaff. 

Or  lemonade,  or  cider ; 
Drink  till  your  thirst  is  past  its  worst, 

Then  mount,  a  freshened  rider ! 
Keep  fairly  cool  (that  is  the  rule) , 

Curse  not,  nor  fume,  nor  worry  *. 
(My  '  fume '  )oke  means  tobacco  amoke) ; 

Nor  take  risks  in  a  hurry  \ 
Nor  tear  your  shirt  while  on  a  spurt ; 

Nor  clothes  while  in  a  snarl  don  *, 
Just  make  no  futo ;  just  be  like  us — 

*  Two-Thirty-Four*  and  Karl  Kron." 


VIII. 

AROUND  NEW-YORK.^ 

Washington  Square,  which  is  the  real  center  of  the  world,  as  the 
three  thousand  subscribers  to  this  book  are  well  aware,  stands  at  the  head  of 
Fifth  Avenue,  which  is  the  wealthiest  and  most  famous  street  in  America,  as 
intelligent  people  in  general  are  well  aware.  The  Avenue  stretches  north- 
ward from  the  Square,  in  a  perfectly  straight  line,  for  six-and-a-half  miles,  or 
until  terminated  by  Harlem  River,  unless  it  be  considered  as  ending  where  a 
break  is  made  in  it  by  Mount  Morris  Square,  at  120th  St.,  about  a  mile  below 
the  river  terminus,  and  about  a  half-mile  above  Central  Park,  whose  eastern 
wall  fronts  upon  the  Avenue  for  two-and-a-half  miles.  Double  that  distance 
intervenes  between  the  southern  wall  of  the  Park  and  the  southern  terminus 
of  Manhattan  Island,  which  is  a  little  park  called  the  Battery ;  and  Washing- 
ton Square  lies  just  about  midway  between  them.  "  Of  the  26,500  acres  com- 
prising the  area  of  the  city,  14,000  acres  compose  Manhattan  Island,  which 
is  thirteen-and-a-half  miles  long,  and  increases  in  breadth  from  a  few  hundred 
yards  at  the  Battery  to  two-and-a-quarter  miles  at  14th  st.  Its  breadth  is  but 
little  less  than  this  for  the  next  five  miles,  or  to  114th  st. ;  while  for  the  last 
four  miles,  or  from  144th  st  (just  below  the  region  of  Washington  Heights) 
to  Kingsbridge,  the  island  averages  less  than  a  mile  in  width.  It  was  orig- 
inally  very  rough,  a  rocky  ridge  running  from  the  south  point  northward  and 
branching  into  several  spurs  which  united  after  four  or  five  miles,  culminating 
in  Washington  Heights,  238  feet  above  tide-water,  and  in  a  bold  promontory 
of  130  feet  at  the  extreme  northern  point.  The  East  River,  which  is  simply 
the  outlet  of  Long  Island  Sound,  separates  it  from  Long  Island,  on  the  east ; 
a  narrow  arm  of  the  Sound  (called  Harlem  River  and  Spuyten  Duyvil  Creek, 
though  forming  a  mere  tidal  channel  of  connection  with  the  Hudson)  sepa- 
rates it  from  the  mainland  of  the  State,  on  the  north ;  while  the  great  Hudson 
itself  (often  called  the  North  River)  separates  it  from  the  State  of  New 
Jersey,  on  the  west.  On  the  south  lies  the  bay,  beyond  which,  distant  half-a- 
dozen  miles  from  the  Battery,  is  Staten  Island,  whose  easternmost  point  ap- 
proaches within  about  a  mile  of  the  westernmost  point  of  Long  Island  to  form 
the  Narrows, — the  passageway  between  New  York  Harbor  and  the  Atlantic 
Ocean.  The  settlement  of  the  island  was  begun  at  the  Battery  (by  the  Dutch 
in  1623),  and  extended  northward  very  gradually,  so  that,  at  the  opening  of 
the  present  century,  when  the  population  numbered  60,000,  there  were  few 


1  From  The  Springfield  IVkeelmen^s  GatftU,  April,  1885,  pp.  211,  212. 


AROUND  NEW-YORK,  65 

residents  as  far  up  as  the  region  of  the  present  Washington  Square,  which 
the  city  purchased  in  1797  for  a  Potter's  Field.  Burials  ceased  to  be  made 
long  before  1830,  however,  when  it  was  changed  to  Washington  Parade  Ground. 
The  houses  now  surrounding  it  are  numbered  consecutively  (i  to  79),  from  the 
north-east  comer  westward,  southward,  eastward,  and  northward.  No.  79  is 
a  recently-built  apartment-house  for  bachelors,  called  <  The  Benedict ' ;  and 
its  broad  front  of  red  brick  combines  with  the  brown-and-blue  stone  of  the 
old  church  adjoining,  and  the  white  granite  fa^atU  of  the  massive  University 
Building,  just  beyond,  to  form  quite  an  imposing  eastern  boundary  for  this 
most  attractively  secluded  Square."* 

Fourth  Street  forms  the  southern  boundary  of  the  same,  and  the  streets 
below  that  are  irregular  in  nomenclature  as  well  as  in  length,  breadth  and 
direction.  In  this  old  part  of  the  city  the  great  bulk  of  its  business  is  trans- 
acted, and  its  "  tenement  house  population  "  live  there — one  of  the  wards 
containing  more  than  290,000  of  them  to  the  square  mile.  It  is  a  confession 
of  pecuniary  weakness  and  of  social  unimportance  for  a  New  Yorker  to  re- 
side below  Washington  Square,  for  this  oasis  of  eight  acres  serves  as  a  well- 
recognized  dividing  line  between  wealth  and  poverty,  virtue  and  vice,  dis- 
tinction and  obscurity.  It  is  a  stock  joke,  on  the  local  variety-stage,  to  speak 
of  South  Fifth  Avenue  (the  "  French  quarter  "  of  New  York)  as  if  it  were 
in  every  way  equal  to  the  Avenue ;  but  though  the  social  separation  of  the 
two  streets  is  of  the  superlative  sort,  the  slight  geographical  barrier  between 
them  is  represented  by  the  width  of  the  Square,  l^rom  this  extending  south- 
ward also  is  Thompson  Street,  distinguished  as  the  "  negro  quarter  " ;  while 
the  "  Irish  quarter,"  the  "  German  quarter,"  the  **  Jew  quarter,"  and  the 
other  foreign  "  groups,"  which  give  the  city  so  cosmopolitan  a  cast,  must  all 
be  sought  in  the  densely-populated  region  below  the  Square. 

Above  it  the  streets  are  all  numbered  consecutively  rather  than  named; 
and  the  reckoning  of  distances  is  rendered  easy  by  the  fact  that  any  given 
twenty  of  them  cover  a  mile ;  34th  st,  for  example,  being  a  mile  above  14th  st. 
Each  of  these  is  of  extra  width,  as  a  special  thoroughfare,  and  the  same  may 
be  said  of  23d,  42d,  57th,  72d,  79th,  86th,  96th,  io6th,  it6tb,  125th  and  145th; 
while  59th  and  i  loth  are  important  as  respectively  marking  the  lower  and 
upper  boundaries  of  Central  Park.  Fourteenth  Street  extends  in  a  straight 
line  across  the  island,  east  and  west,  from  river  to  river,  and  all  the  streets  of 
higher  numbers  are  exactly  parallel  to  it,  though  the  continuity  of  many  of 
them  is  broken  by  the  Central  Park  and  smaller  squares.  The  longitudinal 
roads  of  the  island  are  laid  at  right-angles  to  these  streets,  and  are  designated 
as  avenues,  being  parallel  to  Fifth  Avenue,  which,  though  not  exactly  in  the 
center,  may  be  considered  the  backbone  of  the  system.  "The  house-num* 
bers  begin  there,  and  run  east  and  west,  a  new  hundred  beginning  at  each  of 
the  other  numbered  avenues,  whether  the  prior  hundred  has  been  filled  out  or 


»  "  Appletons'  Dktionary  of  New  York,"  p.  160,  somewhat  altered. 
6 


66  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

not.**  Thus,  loi  East  50th  st.  is  the  first  door  cast  of  4th  av. ;  201  East  50th 
St.  is  the  first  east  of  3d  av. ;  loi  West  50th  st.  is  the  first  door  west  of  6lh 
av. ;  201  West  50th  st.  is  the  first  west  of  7th  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  Battery,  is 
usually  spoken  of  as  "  Belgian  block " ;  and  much  of  it  really  is  so,  as  in 
Fifth  and  other  avenues.  Broadway  and  niany  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  almoi>t  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  level,  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 
4ih  av ,  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  may  prohibit  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  ,them.  Policemen  have 
urged  me  to  mount  on  the  crowded  sidewalks  of  Wall  Street,  and  have  or- 
dered me  to  dismount  on  upper  Fifth  Avenue  when  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  Avith  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  S9th  st.  to  iioth  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 


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,  *^s  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  7  2d  St.,  which  is  an  important  macadamized  thoroughfare  both  east 
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  sth  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 
7  2d  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.  The)'  may 
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  1 1 6th,  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  the  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 


AROUND  NEW'YORK,  69 

he  wishes  to  cross  at  Central  Bridge.  If  he  continues  on  145th  st.  to  the  top 
of  the  hill,  he  will  find  the  macadamized  Boulevard  (nth  av.)  just  beyond; 
or  he  may  turn  into  St  Nicholas  avenue  (macadamized)  when  half-way  up  the 
hill,  and  follow  it  northward  until  (at  i6ist  st.,  where  it  crosses  loth  av.)  he 
finds  its  name  changed  to  Kingsbridge  road;  while,  if  he  turns  left  from  145th 
SL,  he  may  follow  the  avenue  in  a  south-easterly  direction,  crossing  8th  and 
7th  avs.  obliquely,  and  reaching  its  end  at  the  junction  of  6th  av.  and  iioth  st. 

The  rider  who  enters  Manhattan  Island  at  Harlem  Bridge  (3d  av.  at 
130th  St.)  may  go  through  127th  st.  to  ist  av.  and  down  this  to  109th  St., 
mostly  on  macadamized  surface ;  thence  to  92d  st.  the  roadway  is  unpaved, 
but  I  have  found  its  frozen  earth  to  supply  smooth  wheeling  in  December ; 
while  from  92d  St.,  to  its  origin  at  ist  St.,  ist  av.  can  boast  nothing  better 
than  Belgian  block.  Th^  next  thoroughfare  to  the  eastward,  Avenue  A, 
offers  the  best  riding  surface  in  that  part  of  the  city,  for  it  is  smoothly  mac- 
adamized from  86th  st.  to  57th  St.,  and  is  not  marred  by  the  presence  of 
horse-car  tracks.  There  is  a  hill  at  each  end,  and  the  lower  one  is  steep 
enough  to  be  rather  difficult ;  but  from  the  top  of  this  an  excellent  view  may 
be  had  of  the  river-traffic,  from  the  fence  overlooking  the  water,  a  few  rods 
to  the  east.  This  abrupt  terminus  of  57th  st.  is  just  about  opposite  the  jail, 
which  stands  a  quarter-mile  from  the  southern  end  of  Blackwell's  Island; 
and  the  end  of  86th  st.  is  just  opposite  the  light-house  which  stands  at  the 
northern  point  of  that  island.  Stations  of  the  2d  av.  elevated  railroad  are  at 
both  those  streets,  and  also  at  65th,  75th  and  80th  sts. ;  and  the  rocky  water- 
front of  much  of  this  region  is  occupied  by  monster  beer-gardens  and  picnic- 
grounds,  of  which  the  one  called  Jones's  Wood  (opened  in  1858)  is  perhaps 
the  oldest  and  most  widely-known.  At  the  foot  of  86th  st.  a  pretty  little 
public  park  is  also  included  between  Avenue  B  and  the  river. 

Blackweirs  Island,  though  two  miles  long,  is  only  about  a  sixth  of  a  mile 
wide;  and  the  7/xx)  people  who  are  confined  to  its  area  of  120  acres  are  all 
under  the  care  of  the  Commissioners  of  Public  Charities  and  Correction, 
whose  ofHce  is  at  3d  av.  and  nth  st.  By  obtaining  a  pass  there,  and  taking  a 
ferry-boat  at  26th  st.  or  52d  St.,  the  island  may  be  visited  at  any  time  except 
Sunday  ;  and  I  presume  theVe  would  not  be  much  difficulty  in  getting  permis- 
sion to  visit  it  with  a  bicycle.  My  own  written  request  to  that  effect,  which 
was  sent  several  years  ago,  never  received  any  response,  however ;  so  that 
my  personal  knowledge  of  the  paths  of  the  island  has  been  gained  entirely  on 
the  decks  of  passing  steamers,  where  they  certainly  seem  very  smooth  and 
attractive  for  cycling.  The  heavy  granite  sea-walls,  and  the  massive  buildings, 
have  all  been  constructed  by  convict  labor,  from  stone  quarried  on  the  island ; 
and  though  the  charity  hospital,  blind  asylum,  lunatic  asylum,  convalescent 
hospital,  almshouse,  workhouse  and  other  institutions  are  situated  there,  as 
well  as  the  great  penitentiary,  which  usually  contains  about  1,200  inmates,  it 
is  the  latter  which  gives  its  distinctive  character  to  the  place  in  the  popular 
imagination.    Allusions  to** the  Island,"  according  to  the  current  slang  of 


70  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

the  city,  always  refer  to  Blackwell's  Island ;  and  any  mention  of  a  person 
who  has  "  gone  on  "  or  "  got  off  "  the  same, — ^who  has  been  •*  sent  up  to  **  or 
has  "  come  down  from  "  the  same, — ^implies  that  he  is  an  imprisoned  or  a  re- 
leased criminal. 

The  uppermost  half-mile  of  Avenue  A  (known  locally  as  "  Pleasant  Ave- 
nue "),  from  its  river  terminus  at  124th  st.  to  where  the  water  again  interrupts 
it  near  113th  st.,  offers  a  smooth  surface  for  wheeling;  and  5th  av.,  almost  a 
mile  to  the  westward,  may  be  reached  on  the  macadam  at  124th,  11 6th,  iioth 
and  7  2d  sts.  There  is  a  stretch  of  rough  macadam  on  128th  st.,  from  3d  to 
6th  avs. ;  and  the  macadam  of  11 6th  st.  reaches  to  7th  av.,  and  will  perhaps 
finally  be  extended  to  the  lower  road  of  Morningside  Park.  This  is  an  irreg- 
ular, elongated  piece  of  land,  comprising  some  32  acres,  between  123d  and 
1 1 oth  sts.,  and  its  lower  road — which  is  a  broad  macadamized  thoroughfare 
connecting  those  two  streets — begins  at  its  southeast  corner,  which  is  about 
500  feet  from  the  northwest  comer  of  Central  Park.  This  road  was  first 
opened  to  the  public  in  December,  1884 ;  and  the  corresponding  upper  road, 
extending  along  the  top  of  the  massive  wall  which  is  noticed  by  passengers 
on  the  elevated  trains,  will  probably  be  finished  during  the  present  year.  The 
surface  will  be  smooth,  and  the  grades  not  difficult  for  the  bicycler  who  leaves 
iioth  St.  at  9th  av.,  of  which  it  is  the  continuation;  while  the  extensive 
views  from  the  top  will  well  repay  him  for  a  brief  visit.  I  have  never  tried 
loth  av.  below  145th  st. ;  but  in  the  other  direction  it  is  ridable  for  two-and-a- 
half  miles,  or  to  its  terminus  at  196th  st.  This  is  a  sort  of  "  jumping-ofiE 
place,"  in  the  woods ;  a  bluff  which  the  map  names  as  Fort  George,  and 
which  gives  a  fine  view  of  the  meadows  stretching  along  the  upper  Harlem. 
Bordering  loth  av.,  at  173d  St.,  is  the  embankment  of  the  Croton  Reservoir; 
and  from  this,  the  highest  ground  on  Manhattan  Island,  may  be  had  a  most 
extensive  outlook,  which  no  stranger  can  afford  to  miss.  Hard  by  stands 
the  lofty  water-tower  of  granite, — one  of  the  city*s  most  widely-known  land- 
marks,— and  from  the  base  of  this  the  tourist  may  carry  his  bicycle  down  two 
long  flights  of  steps,  to  the  entrance  of  High  Bridge,  whose  top  is  a  broad 
walk  of  brick,  with  stone  parapets,  concealing  the  aqueduct  pipes  below. 
The  structure  has  thirteen  arches, — cresting  on  solid  granite  piers,  the  crown 
of  the  highest  arch  being  ir6  feet  above  the  river  surface, — and  it  is  1,460 
feet  long.  The  beauty  of  the  scenery  makes  the  bridge  a  specially  pleasant 
place  to  walk  or  ride  upon,  and  I  have  enjoyed  several  spins  there ;  but 
recent  regulations  command  that  bicycles  on  the  bridge  must  be  trundled  by 
their  owners,  and  not  ridden.  A  smooth  road  called  Undercliff  av.  leads 
northward  from  the  east  end  of  the  bridge ;  but,  if  a  southern  course  is  de- 
sired, the  tourist  may  soon  make  a  turn  to  the  left  and  descend  the  hill  into 
Sedgwick  av.,  by  which  he  may  go  without  stop,  to  Central  Bridge  (end  of  8th 
av.),  a  mile  below. 

When  I  began  exploring  this  region,  in  '79,  my  northward  coarse  from 
Central  Bridge  (then  called  McComb's  Dam)  was  always  through  Central  av. 


AROUND  NEW-YORK, 


71 


to  the  Kingsbridge  road  at  Jerome  Park,  whose  southern  end  is  bounded  by 
it,  while  its  eastern  side  is  bounded  by  the  avenue,  which,  a  mile  beyond, 
forms  a  part  of  the  west  boundary  of  Woodlawn  Cemetery,  and  then  contin- 
ues on  to  White  Plains,  a  dozen  miles  to  the  north.  I  am  told  that  most  of 
this  upper  section  affords  decent  wheeling  at  certain  favorable  seasons  of  the 
year ;  though  I  found  a  discouraging  amount  of  sand  alongside  the  park,  on 
the  single  occasion,  in  August,  when  I  ventured  beyond  its  lower  border. 
Between  there  and  Central  Bridge,  a  distance  of  about  three-and-a-half  miles, 
the  avenue  may  be  ridden  without  dismount,  in  both  directions ;  though  there 
are  t^'o  or  three  short  grades  whose  ascent  is  apt  to  be  made  difficult  by 
sand-ruts,  while  the  general  looseness  of  surface,  and  the  general  presence  of 
many  drivers  of  fast  horses,  combine  to  render  the  course  rather  unattractive 
for  bicycling.  The  northward-bound  tourist  had  better  turn  off  from  it,  about 
a  mile  from  the  bridge,  at  the  first  road  which  branches  to  the  left  above 
Judge  Smith's  hotel, — ^some  thirty  or  forty  rods  from  it, — ^the  hotel  being  dis- 
tinguished by  the  fact  of  its  facing  the  long,  straight  stretch  of  the  avenue. 
This  road  .to  the  left,  which  may  be  called  a  continuation  of  Gerard  av.,  in  the 
course  of  a  half-mile  makes  a  junction  with  UnderclifE  av.,  before  mentioned 
as  leading  north  from  High  Bridge,  not  quite  a  mile  away.  The  combination 
is  called  Ridge  av.  and  extends  nearly  two  miles  to  the  Kingsbridge  road, 
which  it  enters  almost  opposite  the  church  that  surmounts  the  little  hill  on 
the  west  of  Jerome  Park.  This  is  a  narrower  and  hillier  path  than  Central 
av.,  but  it  is  a  much  prettier  and  smoother  one,  for  it  is  largely  overhung 
with  trees,  and  it  was  macadamized  in  1884.  The  tourist  who  wishes  to  avoid 
Central  av.  altogether,  should  turn  left  into  Sedgwick  av.,  as  soon  as  he 
leaves  Central  Bridge,  and  he  may  then  ride  continuously  on  macadam,  and 
without  dismount,  to  the  Kingsbridge  road,  though  the  ascent  after  passing 
ander  High  Bridge  may  be  rather  difficult  to  conquer.  In  the  southward  di- 
rection, too,  the  whole  track  may  be  traversed  without  a  stop. 

The  distance  from  the  gate  of  Jerome  Park  to  the  head  of  Broadway  in 
Kingsbridge  is  a  mile-and-a-half,  and  the  middle-point  is  the  foot  of  a  long 
hill,  which  I  have  sometimes  ridden  down  (though  I  consider  the  descent  a 
rather  risky  one),  and  which  I  once  managed  to  ride  up.  At  the  foot  of  this 
hill,  the  rider  should  turn  to  the  right,  and  then,  about  a  quarter-mile  later,  to 
the  left,  down  the  street  leading  across  the  railroad  station  to  Broadway. 
If,  instead  of  turning  left  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  he  prefers  to  keep  straight 
on,  he  will  probably  have  to  dismount  at  the  railroad  tracks,  if  not  also  at  the 
little  Farmer's  Bridge,  spanning  Spuyten  Duyvil  Creek,  and  at  certain  points 
on  the  causeway  leading  to  the  hotel,  situated  at  its  junction  with  the  main 
road,  which  reaches  down  to  loth  av,  at  i62d  St.,  four-and-a-half  miles  below. 
If  he  goes  up  this  road  for  a  quarter-mile,  and  crosses  the  creek  again  at  the 
true  King's  Bridge,  and  turns  down  to  the  right  for  forty  rods,  he  will  reach 
the  head  of  Broadway,  after  having  covered  about  twice  the  distance  required 
by  the  direct  route  from  the  foot  of  the  hill,  as  before  described.    This  route', 


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  Inwood  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 
1 56th  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  exten§ive  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  blufif  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  al 
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 


AROUND  NEW^YORK, 


73 


stretch  of  half-a-mile  or  more  upon  its  southern  sidewalk  (great  good  luck  may 
allow  this  to  be  done  without  dismount),  the  tourist  reaches  the  Southern 
Boulevard,  on  whose  macadam  he  may  then  spin  along  for  a  half-dozen  miles 
without  dismount,  to  its  terminus  at  Harlem  Bridge  (3d  av.  at  133d  St.).  The 
upper  terminus  of  this  Boulevard  is  Central  av.  at  Jerome  Park,  about  a  mile- 
and-a-half  distant  from  Pelham  av. ;  but  I  found  that  upper  section  too  sandy 
for  bicycling,  when  I  first  tried  it,  in  '79,  and  I  suppose  it  is  so  still,  though 
macadam  will  doubtless  be  applied  to  it  at  last.  The  surface  of  this  Southern 
Boulevard  has  varied  greatly  during  the  years  that  I  have  been  familiar  with 
it ;  but  it  has  no  difficult  grades,  and,  at  its  worst,  it  is  always  ridable  ;  while, 
at  its  best,  it  supplies  some  of  the  smoothest  and  swiftest  stretches  for  riding 
that  can  be  found  in  the  whole  metropolitan  district.  If  one  turns  west  at 
the  first  macadamized  street  above  Boston  av.  (whose  crossing  of  the  Boule- 
vard is  distinguished  by  horse-car  tracks),  he  may  ride  smoothly  for  about  a 
mile  to  Tremont  (whence  I  have  wheeled .  along  the  railway  line  a  mile  or 
more  northward  to  Fordham),  and  I  presume  there  may  be  at  least  one  fairly 
ridable  road  among  the  three  or  four  which  lead  from  Tremont  to  Central 
av.  Another  pleasant  easterly  route  from  this  last-named  thoroughfare  may 
be  found  by  crossing  the  bridge  above  Gabe  Case's  hotel,  which  is  about  a 
third-of-a-mile  above  Central  Bridge,  and  walking  up  a  short  hill  (165th  st.)  to 
the  entrance  of  Fleetwood  Park  at  Walton  av.  This  has  a  macadamized 
surface,  upon  whose  gentle  downward  slope  the  rider  may  go  without  stop  to 
138th  St.,  where  he  will  cross  the  railroad  track  at  Mott  Haven  station  and 
soon  reach  3d  av.,  a  quarter-of-a-mile  above  Harlem  Bridge.  Walton  av. 
may  also  be  reached  by  taking  the  first  easterly  road  above  Central  Bridge. 
From  the  rocky  hill-tops  along  this  route,  some  fine  views  may  be  had. 

Twenty-four  miles  is  the  distance  from  Harlem  Bridge  to  the  bridge  over 
the  little  Byram  River,  by  which  the  tourist  crosses  from  Port  Chester,  the 
easternmost  town  on  the  shore  of  New  York,  into  the  State  of  Connecticut. 
Such  is  the  distance,  I  mean,  in  case  he  takes  the  route  described  in  my  cha|>- 
ter  on  "  Winter  Wheeling " ;  and  the  average  excellence  of  its  surface  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that,  on  the  26th  of  April,  1884,  I  traversed  it  all  during 
four  hours  of  the  forenoon,  spite  of  considerable  rain.  On  that  month,  also, 
macadam  was  applied  to  the  "  bad  three  miles  "  above  the  drawbridge  at 
Pelham  Bay,  transforming  the  same  into  one  of  the  smoothest  and  pleasantest 
stretches  of  the  entire  route.  A  quarter-mile  below  this  bridge,  Fordham  and 
Pelham  Avenue,  before  mentioned,  branches  off  from  the  Eastern  Boulevard 
and  extends  in  almost  a  straight  line  westward,  for  four  miles,  until  it  crosses 
the  Southern  Boulevard  where  the  latter's  macadam  ends.  If  macadam  ever 
replaces  the  present  soft  surface  of  these  other  broad  roadways,  the  bicycler 
will  be  enabled  to  make  a  continuous  circuit  of  more  than  a  dozen  miles  upon 
them  without  a  dismount.  Just  about  at  the  middle  point  of  the  six  mac- 
adamized miles  of  Southern  Boulevard,  the  Westchester  turnpike,  which  is 
also  of  hard  surface,  branches  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  tiirn  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,  not  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  World,  May  18,  .1883,  p.  18.     The  remainder  of  the 
article  is  from  Tht  fVkeel,  March  (13,  27)  and  May,  1885. 


AROUND  NEW-YORK. 


75 


near  a  railway  station.  This  point  was  five  miles  from  the  cannon  on  the 
battle-field,  and  the  cannon  was  seven  miles  from  Port  Chester.  Another 
mUe  brought  me  to  the  Vincent  House  in  Tarrytown ;  and,  as  I  suddenly 
emerged  from  the  woods  upon  the  crest  of  the  hill  leading  down  to  the  same, 
the  unexpected  sight  of  the  Hudson,  which  is  three  miles  broad  at  this  point, 
and  of  Nyack  on  the  bank  beyond,  was  refreshing  in  the  extreme.  A  tourist 
would  do  well  to  rest  there  before  descending  to  the  level  of  Broadway,  on 
the  west  side  of  which,  a  few  rods  to  the  north,  stands  the  Vincent  House. 
As  the  slope  of  Benedict  av.  is  a  sharp  one,  and  makes  a  right  angle  with 
Broadway,  it  should  be  descended  with  care. 

At  a  point  called  Elmsford  or  Hall's  Corners, — about  midway  between 
White  Plains  and  Tarrytown,  I  crossed  the  Nepperhan  or  Sawmill  river,  a 
little  stream  which  runs  through  a  pleasantly-secluded  and  thinly-settled 
valley,  parallel  to  the  Hudson,  which  it  gradually  approaches  until  it  empties 
into  it  at  Yonkers,  ten  or  a  dozen  miles  below.  During  all  this  distance  a 
dirt  road  runs  along  the  east  side  of  the  stream,  and  I  am  told  that  its  surface 
is  fairly  ridable  for  many  seasons  of  the  year,  and  that  it  has  few  steep  grades. 
A  railway  also  runs  beside  the  river,  generally  on  its  west  bank ;  and  at  Ash- 
ford  station,  about  four  miles  below  Elmsford,  a  fine  macadamized  roadway 
stretches  west,  for  a  mile,  to  intersect  Broadway  at  Dobbs  Ferry,  on  the 
Hudson.  About  half-way  between  Ashford  and  Elmsford,  there  is  another 
cross-road  to  Broadway  at  Irvington  ;  and  still  another  such  track  branches 
off  from  the  river  road,  about  half  a  mile  above,  and  passes  through  the 
hamlet  of  Dublin.  I  hardly  suppose  that  these  supply  very  good  riding ;  but 
at  the  cross-road  next  below  Ashford  (two  miles),  Broadway  at  Hastings 
is  less  than  a  mile  distant,  and  I  think  that  a  part  of  the  track  (Washington 
av.)  is  macadamized.  All  of  these  cross-roads  from  the  Hudson,  and  some 
of  the  others  between  Hastings  and  Yonkers  continue  eastward  to  Cen- 
tral av.,  whose  course  is  generally  within  half  a  mile  of  the  west  bank  of  the 
Bronx  river,  all  the  way  from  Jerome  Park  to  White  Plains. 

The  Vincent  House,  in  Tarrytown,  is  perhaps  the  most  notable  objective- 
point  known  to  metropolitan  tourists,  and  it  has  been  recognized  as  such 
from  the  earliest  days  of  cycling.  The  approach  to  it  from  59th  St.,  either 
at  5th  av.  or  at  8th  av.,  is  usually  called  25  miles ;  and,  though  there  are 
several  variations  in  the  route,  it  may  be  generally  designated  as  "  Broadway, 
a  macadamized  turnpike,  overlooking  the  Hudson  River,  and  identical  in 
most  of  its  lines  with  the  old  post  road  to  Albany."  Not  many  miles  of  its 
surface  are  absolutely  level ;  and,  of  its  numerous  hills,  some  are  too  long  and 
some  are  too  steep  for  comfort ;  but  I  have  ridden  every  one  of  them,  in  both 
directions  (I  except  the  highest  hill  at  Dobbs  Ferry,  where  a  choice  of  gentler 
grade  is  possible);  and,  on  the  7th  of  November,  1882,  between  2.45  and 
6.38  P.  M.,  I  rode  without  dismount  from  the  Vincent  Hoyse  to  59th  st.  and 
then  back  to  Washington  Heights  (155th  St.),  a  distance  which  my 
cyclometer  called  29^  miles,  though  it  is  usually  considered  to  be  somewhat 


76  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

greater.  1  am  told  that  this  25-m.  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  dty. 
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,  aiter  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  hal£-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  Andre,  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  ofitered  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 


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  myself.  Here,  at  Dobbs  Ferry,  the 
residence  of  ex-Judge  Beach  is  notable  as  being  the  self-^ame  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-mile, — 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  6f  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. 

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  av.  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.  SL 
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- 
em  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  than  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  1  think  it  would  have  to  be 


AROUND  NEW-YORK.  79 

walked ;  but  the  views  which  may  be  had  of  the  Hudson  and  the  Palisades, 
when  riding  along  the  avenue,  repay  an  occasional  choice  of  this  lower  route. 
The  route  from  the  center  of  Yonkers,  through  Nepperhan  av.  northeast- 
ward, is  a  smoothly-macadamized  one  as  far  as  the  first  road  which  crosses 
it  beyond  the  aqueduct  arch.  The  tourist  should  follow  this  road  down  to 
the  right,  for  one  block,  to  the  cemetery,  where  he  Mrill  turn  left  up  the  Saw- 
mill river-road.  On  the  17th  of  December,  1884,  my  first  dismount  on  my 
first  trial  of  this  route  was  caused  by  a  hill  which  is  three  miles  and  a  half 
from  the  Getty  House ;  but  I  did  much  walking  on  the  three  miles  between 
that  hill  and  Ashford  (where  I  struck  the  macadam  leading  back  to  Broadway 
at  Dobbs  Ferry),  though,  at  a  more  favorable  season,  I  presume  the  whole 
circuit  might  be  covered,  in  either  direction,  without  a  stop.  The  tour 
between  these  parallel  and  heavily-wooded  ranges  of  hills  must  surely  be  a 
very  pleasant  one  to  take  in  spring  or  early  summer ;  and  the  Tuckahoe  road, 
leading  eastward  across  Central  av.  to  the  village  of  that  name,  and  Yonkers 
av.,  leading  similarly  to  Mt.  Vernon,  both  seemed  smooth  enough  to  tempt 
me  to  explore  them,  on  the  day  I  have  mentioned,  in  spite  of  the  warning 
snow-flakes.  I  have  been  assured  that  fairly  ridable  roads  connect  both 
Tuckahoe  and  Mt  Vernon,  with  the  east-side  thoroughfare  along  the  Sound, 
which  I  have  already  described ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  there  are  many 
other  routes  well  worth  exploring  in  this  terminal  triangle  of  Westchester 
County,  whose  base-line  I  have  drawn  at  the  road  connecting  Port  Chester 
with  Tarrjrtown.  Nevertheless,  the  famous  macadamized  turnpike,  parallel  to 
the  shore  of  the  river  which  forms  the  west  side  of  this  triangle,  will  always 
make  the  strongest  appeal  to  the  bicycler  at  the  outset  of  his  touring  in  the 
metropolitan  district.  Alongside  it  stand  the  country  castles  of  our  mer- 
chant princes,  the  rural  palaces  of  our  railroad  barons,  and  the  more  modest 
mansions  of  other  wealthy  people  who  are  wise  enough  to  understand  that  no 
amount  of  architectural  magnificence  can  avail  to  *'  found  a  permanent  family 
residence  "  in  America,  or  to  prevent  unsentimental  heirs  from  knocking  it 
down  with  an  auctioneer's  hammer  as  soon  as  the  opulent  originator  has  been 
safely  stowed  away  under  the  sod.  The  first  notable  roadside  residence,  which 
the  tourist  northward  from  Yonkers  may  be  presumed  to  have  some  curiosity 
about,  is  less  than  a  mile  above  the  place  where  the  cross-road  from  the 
terminus  of  Warburton  av.  joins  Broadway;  and  it  comes  into  full  view, 
standing  on  a  knoll  to  the  west,  as  the  rider  twists  around  the  crest  of  a  short 
hill  and  enters  the  straight,  sloping  stretch  which  it  faces  upon.  Its  name, 
** Greystone,"  describes  the  material  of  this  long-fronted,  angular  "bachelor's 
hall "  belonging  to  Samuel  J.  Tilden,  ex-Governor  of  the  State.  Half  a 
mile  above  the  churches  in  Irvington,  at  the  first  cross-road,  if  one  turns 
towards  the  river  for  a  similar  distance,  he  may  reach  "Sunnyside,"  the 
former  residence  of  Washington  Irving;  and  " L5mdehurst,"  Jay  Gould's 
castellated  mansion,  of  white  limestone,  is  next  but  one  to  the  north  of 
"  Sunnyside."    About  half-way  between  Irvington  and  Dobbs  Ferry,  or  some- 


So  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

what  nearer  the  latter,  on  the  eastern  slope,  stands  the  house  of  Cyras  W. 
Field,  who  is  popularly  ranked  with  the  owners  of  "  Lyndehurst  '*  and  "  Grey- 
stone  "  as  having  amassed  millions  by  '*  developing  "  the  elevated  railways  of 
the  city ;  but  who  deserves  a  higher  rank  than  they  in  the  world  of  wheeling, 
by  reason  of  his  having  caused  that  mile  of  smooth  macadamized  roadway  to 
be  built  from  Ashford  station  to  the  Hudson. 

Instead  of  ascending  the  Riverdale  hill  to  the  right,  after  crossing  the 
railroad  tracks  west  of  Kingsbridge,  I  once  explored  the  region  to  the  left 
(Dec.  i8,  1883),  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  horrors  were  then  fresh  in  public  memory),  and  ends  in  a  little  less 
than  a  mile,  at  Spuyten  Duyvil  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  and  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 
poiift  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  Duyvil  branches  off  through  the 
woods.  Between  this  point  and  Mt.  St.  Vincent  there  are  two  smooth  roads 
which  branch  westward  to  the  river  and  conned  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-quarters  of  a  mile,  parallel  to  Riverdale  av.  until  it 
joins  the  same  at  Mt.  St.  Vincent ;  and  it  probably  offers  good  riding,  though 
J  have  never  chanced  to  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  (ij  m.),  Tappan  (li  m.),  Closter  (4m.),  Tenafly  (4  m.) 
and  Englewood  (2J  m.),  and  be  content  to  do  most  of  his  riding — and  a 
good  deal  of  walking— on  the  side-paths  of  rather  sandy  and  hilly  roads. 
It  took  me  four  hours  to  cover  the  thirteen  miles,  on  the  26th  of  May,  1882, 
when  the  track  was  probably  in  average  condition ;  though  the  bright  spring 
weather  made  even  slow  progress  a  pleasure  (if,  indeed,  it  did  not  invite  me 
to  be  slow),  and  I  stopped  a  good  while  to  stare  at  the  sunken-roofed  stone 
house  near  the  hotel  in  Tappan,  where  the  luckless  Major  Andr§  was  jailed, 
a  century  ago,  before  being  executed,  on  the  adjacent  eminence,  which  has 


AROUND  NEW'-YORK,  8i 

since  carried  the  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  (5  m.))  whence  ferry  boat  may  be  taken  across  to  130th  st , 
just  a  short  distance  from  the  Boulevard.  I  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  stop  for  two  miles,  to  a  point  beyond  the  great 
Palisades  Hotel,  since  burned, — ^whence  a  broad  roadway  stretches  in  a 
straight  line  to  Englewood  (2^  m.).  The  last  half  of  this  may  be  coasted, 
but  I  should  think  the  ascent  could  hardly  be  made  without  a  stop. 

The  obstacle  which  forces  the  tourist  coming  down  the  west  side  of  the 
Hudson  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, — the 
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  two  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 
diance  to  ascend ;  or  he  may  ride  still  another  two  miles  to  Weehawken,  and 
there  walk  up  the  hill.  This  is  opposite  59th  St.,  though  the  ferry  boat  runs 
to  42d  St.,  and  Fort  Lee  is  opposite  155th  st.,  though  its  ferry,  in  like  manner, 
lands  the  passenger  a  half-mile  lower  down.  By  good  luck,  the  five  miles 
may  be  ridden  in  either  direction  without  stop,  but  the  last  half  of  the  road 
has  little  to  recommend  it ;  and,  as  its  surface  and  surroundings  increase  in 
badness  the  nearer  one  gets  to  Weehawken,  the  southward-bound  traveler 
woold  do  well  to  climb  the  hill  either  at  Edgewater  or  Shady  Side. 

It  is  a  quarter-mile  walk  from  the  river-road  to  the  crest  of  the  hill  at 
Edgewater,  whence  a  fine  view  may  be  had  of  the  city ;  and  one  may  ride  south- 
ward from  there,  by  Builds  Head  Ferry  av.,  past  Guttenberg  (2  m.)  and  the 
great  water-tower  (i^  m.),  without  stop,  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  (i  m.)  where  the 
m^^/iam  gives  place  to  Belgian  blocks.  On  these,  or  on  the  flagstones  of  the 


i"Apiiletons'  Dicdonary  of  N«w  York,**  p.  166. 
6 


82  TEN  THOUSAND  M/LES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

sidewalks,  he  may  thence  work  his  way  to  Hoboken  Ferry  (3  m.),  unless  he 
prefer  to  take  one  of  the  horse-cars  which  will  be  within  his  reach  soon  after 
passing  the  tower.  The  ferry  marks  the  terminus  of  one  of  the  great  railway 
lines  (always  called  "  the  D.,  L.  and  W.,'*  from  the  initials  of  its  very  long 
name),  and  its  boats  will  take  a  man  either  directly  across  to  Christopher  si^ 
hardly  more  than  half-a-mile  from  Washington  Square,  or  down  to  Barclay  st, 
somewhat  less  than  that  distance  from  the  City  Hall.  Taylor's  Hotel,  in 
Jersey  City,  a  well-known  landmark,  stands  at  the  entrance  to  Jersey  City 
Ferry,  which  is  the  terminus  of  the  Pennsylvania  railway,  and  its  boats  land 
both  at  Cortlandt  st.,  immediately  opposite  (four  blocks  below  Barclay  st), 
and  at  Desbrosses  St.,  which  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile  above,  and  a  half-mile 
below  Christopher  st.  Communipaw  Ferry,  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-quartere 
of  a  mile  above  Taylor's  Hotel,  and  a  half-mile  below  Hoboken  Ferry,  is 
Pavonia  Ferry,  the  terminus  of  the  Erie  railway,  whose  boats  land  both  at 
Chambers  st.  (four  blocks  above  Barclay  st.)  and  at  23d  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,  '82),  I  wheeled  more  than  two  miles,-^much  of  it 
on  the  sidewalks  (for  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.  16,  '80),  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  TJu  IVhteiman 
(June,  1883,  p.  219) :  "The  road  leading  up  Bergen  hill,  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  (1}  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  river,  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  [  know 
nothing  of  its  character.  At  the  specified  distance  above  the  reservoir,— or 
at  considerably  less  distance,^-one  may  go  eastward  j^  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  excellent  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 
o£  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 
Guttenberg,  and  then  (J  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  (J  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  \  m.  west  of  it.  Blacque's  Hotel,  and  Nun- 
gesser'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.  {\  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  miles  below  the  tunnel ; 
but  I  do  not  expect  that  so  magnificent  a  scheme  will  be  realized  in  m.y  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  (ij  m.), 
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  macadamized  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  then  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  every  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  oif  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  SQth 
St.,  the  lower  border  of  Central  Park.  The  east-side  Belt  runs  through  A  v. 
D  to  14th  St.,  through  Av.  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.  T  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  which  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  11 6th  st.  to  59th  St.,  on  an  8th  ay.  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  sheriffs  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  breadth  (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  1 19^  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.  ^^^  cost  has  ex- 
ceeded $1 5,000,00a* 

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.  (}  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  (2I  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  f  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 


"Appletons*  Dictionary  of  New  York,*'  p.  79. 


88  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Gowanus  Bay,  i^  m.),  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  prefei-s  (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  Schermerhorn  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  Schermerhorn  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  Schermerhorn  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  Schermerhorn  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  terminus  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.  (J  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  f  m.  west  of  the  end  of  its  macadam,  and  1}  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  6i  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  II  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  days  of  Brooklyn  bicycling  in  '79.  But,  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 
turn  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"AppletoDs'  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  Brookljm  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,  4^  m. 
Macadam  stretches  thence  westward  through  Winfield,  and  up  a  steep  hill 
which  I  was  barely  able  to  ride  (July  13,  1880),  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  z\  m.  to  Astoria 
Ferry,  which  is  the  northernmost  connection  between  Long  Island  and  New 
York.  Its  opposite  landing  is  at  92d  St.,  just  above  BlackwelPs  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  thei>  "have 
reached  the  direct  road  for  Flushing,  which  I  tried  on  a  return  journey  some 


AROUND  NEW- YORK,  91 

time  later ;  but  I  should  recommend  the  tourist  thither  to  go  to  the  end  of  the 
shore  road,  before  described,  and  there  turn  inland  to  meet  the  Flushing  road, 
at  a  point  2  m.  from  the  ferry.  His  own  route  to  that  point  will  thus  be  4  m., 
and  though  I  am  unacquainted  with  the  latter  half  of  it,  I  am  sure  it  cannot 
be  more  disagreeable  than  the  2  m.  of  direct  road.  The  southward  route 
from  the  bridge  at  the  ferry,  which  I  crossed  on  foot,  allows  riding  on  the 
flag-«tones  I  m.  without  dismount,  to  the  post  office  at  Ravenswood,  and 
then  I  m.  more  without  dismount  to  the  ferry  at  Hunter's  Point." 

This  ferry  lands  nearly  opposite,  at  34th  st.,  also  at  7th  st.  (i^  m.  due 
east  from  Washington  Square),  and  at  James  Slip,  which  is  the  third  pier 
above  the  tower  of  the  big  bridge.  Next  below  James  st.  is  Roosevelt  St.,  by 
whose  ferry  a  return  may  be  made  up  the  river  to  the  Broadway  Ferry, 
Brooklyn,  which  is  within  \  m.  of  the  asphalt  of  Bedford  av.,  as  before 
described ;  or  the  Brooklyn  side  may  be  reached  near  the  Bridge,  by  taking 
ferry  at  foot  of  Catherine  st.,  which  is  second  above  James  st.  The  Broad- 
way Ferry  connects  Broadway,  Brooklyn,  with  Grand  St.,  N.  Y.,  which  is  an 
important  thoroughfare  stretching  westward  across  the  island  to  Desbrosses 
St.,  whose  ferry  is  2\  m.  distant,  and  may  be  reached  directly  by  horse-car.  In 
New  York,  the  ferry  takes  its  name  from  Grand  st.,  and  some  of  its  boats  go 
to  Grand  st.  in  Brooklyn,  \  m.  north  of  the  Broadway  landing,  and  just  south 
of  the  ferry  to  Houston  St.,  N.  Y.  This  is  also  an  important  thoroughfare, 
through  which  the  tourist  may  trundle  his  bicycle  i  m.  to  Broadway,  and  then 
a  similar  distance  to  West  St.,  \  m.  below  Hoboken  Ferry.  At  the  east 
end  of  Grand  st.,  and  very  near  the  east  end  of  Houston  st.,  one  may  take  a 
"  green  "  car  which  runs  to  the  Weehawken  Ferry,  at  42d  st.,  crossing  5th 
av.  at  Broadway  and  23d  st.  From  the  foot  of  23d  st.,  J  m.  east  of  this  cross- 
ing, another  ferry  may  be  taken  to  Greenpoint  av.,  Brooklyn,  which  is  i  m. 
below  the  ferry  at  Hunter's  Point,  and  a  similar  distance  above  the  one  at 
Grand  st.  This  Greenpoint  Ferry  also  sends  boats  to  loth  st.,  i^  m.  east  of 
Washington  Square.  The  boats  between  Astoria  and  Beekman  st.  make  a 
stop  at  Greenpoint  av.,  or  very  near  it;  but  the  excursion  steamers  to  Flush- 
ing, Roslyn,  Glen  Island  and  other  places  on  the  Sound,  rarely  land  on  the 
east  side  at  any  point  above  Fulton  Ferry,  though  they  take  New  York  passen- 
gers at  or  near  Grand  st.,  loth  st.,  23d  st.  and  34th  st.  At  Glen  Island  there 
are  extensive  sidewalks  of  concrete ;  and  the  tourist  may  thence  easily  cross 
to  the  macadamized  roadway  of  the  mainland,  at  New  Rochelle,  and  either 
wheel  directly  back  to  Harlem  Bridge,  or  else  proceed  to  Port  Chester  and 
Tarry  town,  by  routes  given  on  pp.  73-76.  Newtown  Creek  is  just  below  Hun- 
ter's Point ;  and  the  interval  between  there  and  the  asphalt  of  Bedford  av. 
(3  m.)  contains  no  better  pavement  than  Belgian,  while  sidewalk-riding 
presumably  requires  a  dismount  at  every  curb, — though  two  lines  of  horse 
cars  are  available  for  the  journey.  What  were  formerly  the  villages  of  Green- 
point and  Williamsburg  are  now  combined  to  form  Brooklyn's  **  Eastern  Dis- 
trict" (abbreviated  to  E.  D.,  for  postal  purposes),  and    its  only  building 


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  alwa3rs  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  lab3rrinth  for 
the  exhibition  of  "  rules,"  or  a  piece  of  political  plunder  whose  "patronage" 
might  help  their  own  personal  aggrandizement.  Hence,  though  it  is  some- 
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 
metropK>Iitan  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  ste  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- 

iln  TJu  Warldy  October  27,  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 
naorganized  and  unacquainted  with  each  other^  it  is  plain  that  the  *  unanimous 
nq^tive '  of  the  Commissioners  was  called  forth  by  the  petition  of  only  a 
very  few  individuals.  When  the  number  of  metropolitan  bicyclers  increases 
to  lOOb  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  tkdr  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,  jt  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  j88i,  the  clubs  of  the  city  united  in 
a  formaT  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  iioth  st.:  H.  H.  Walker,  of  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 
jndgment  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  habeas  corpus ^'^'^ 

lAn  abflCract  of  this  was  given  in   Tht  Whttl^  July  19,  1883,  p.  173 ;  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  modem  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  {S9th  st.  at  8th  av.  to  i  loth  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,  wais  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,  i38a,  p.  117;  the  report  of  Commissioner  Wales,  with  st^ggested 
rules  for  bicycling  in  the  park,  Feb.  1,  1S82,  p.  76 ;  Comments  of  "  J.  W.'*  upon  these  nilesand 
upon  a  volume  containing  940  pp.  of  "  testimony  in  the  case,"  Feb.  15,  i88a,  p.  84.  The  expenses 
of  litigation  were  borne  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  of  Boston,  and  amounted  to  nearly  $8,000,  as  is 
explained,  with  other  details  of  the  case,  in  their  little  book,  "  What  and  Why,*"  pp.  48-50. 


AROUND  NEW-YORK. 


95 


whcelmanship  satisfactory  to  a  representative  of  the  Commissioners,  "  who 
will  conduct  an  examination  of  candidates,  in  front  of  the  Arsenal,  every 
Friday  morning.** 

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-carriage :  namely,  its 
expulsion  from  the  roads  whenever  the  incompetence  or  recklessness  of  its 
driver  renders  it  a  public  nuisance.  The  incompetence  or  recklessness  of  our 
Park  Commissioners  has  insured  to  New  York  the  bad  eminence  of  standing 
last  on  the  list  of  cities  whose  road-rulers  have  shown  the  mental  and  moral 
strength  requisite  for  grasping  this  simple  truth.  The  length  of  the  interval 
by  which  the  metropolis  of  America  is  destined  to  lag  behind  the  other  great 
capitals  of  the  world,  in  respect  to  doing  justice  to  cyclers,  may  be  shortened 
in  three  ways :  (i)  by  increasing  the  pressure  of  public  opinion  upon  the  exist- 
ing Commissioners ;  (2)  by  trying  to  insure  the  accession  of  men  of  modern 
ideas  to  vacancies  in  the  Board ;  (3)  by  carrying  the  test-case  to  the  Court  of 
Appeals,  in  order  that  final  judgment  may  there  be  pronounced  on  its  merits, 
and  on  the  ultimate  authority  of  the  Commissioners,  after  a  presentation  of 
arguments  by  the  ablest  of  lawyers.^ 

**  Number  791,"  on  the  east  side  of  Fifth  Avenue,  just  opposite  the  S9th 
St.  entrance  to  Central  Park,  was  the  wheelmen's  headquarters  in  the  early 

1  Central  Park  has  an  area  of  S40  acres  (exclusive  of  the  15  acres  of  Manhattan  Square  and 
the  3^  acres  of  Morningside  Park,  which  are  separated  from  it  by  8th  av.) ;  and  the  work  of 
creating  it  oat  of  a  waste  of  rock  and  swamp  was  begun  in  1857, — ^the  credit  for  the>  landscape 
design  of  it  being  doe  to  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  and  Calvert  Vaux.  Its  length  exceeds  i\  m. 
by  S56  ft.,  and  its  breadth  is  79  ft.  more  than  \  m.  Tlie  length  of  its  macadamized  carriage- 
waiys  or  drives,  haring  an  averse  width  of  54  ft  and  a  maximum  width  of  60  ft.,  is  about  9  m.; 
the  length  of  the  bridle-paths,  having  an  average  width  of  z6i  ft.,  is  about  5^  m.;  and  the 
lei^h  of  the  walks  or  footpaths,  having  an  average  breadth  of  13  ft  and  a  maximum  breadth  of 
40  ft ,  is  about  38^  m.  The  wooded  ground  covers  about  400  acres,  on  which  have  been  set  out, 
dnoe  the  opening  of  the  park,  more  than  500,000  trees,  shrubs  and  vines.  The  Croton  Reser- 
voir, which  extends  nearly  across  its  entire  width,  may  be  considered  as  separating  it  into  two 
parts,— the  part  lying  above  the  northern  Ime  of  the  reservoir  comprising  about  \  the  area  of  the 
park.  Its  seven  western  gates,  on  8th  av.,  are  at  59th,  72d,  79th,  85th,  96th,  looth  and  xxoth 
sts. ;  and  the  seven  eastern  gates,  on  5th  av.,  are  at  the  same  streets,  except  that  90th  takes  the 
place  of  85th,  and  load  takes  the  place  of  looth.  The  reservoirs  have  an  area  of  143  acres,  and 
the  lakes  of  the  park  cover  43  acres  additional.  A  description  has  already  been  given  of  the 
four  transverse  roads  (p.  68)  which  allow  the  east<and-west  traffic  to  go  on  beneath  the  level  of 
the  park ;  and  some  statistics  of  the  future  may  be  added,  for  the  sake  of  completeness,  con- 
cerning the  six  new  parks  which  have  been  inojected,  in  and  near  the  annexed  district,  north  of 
the  Harlem  River  :  (i)  Van  Cortlandt  Park,  just  below  the  Yonkers  line,  within  less  than  a 
mk  of  the  Hudson  River,  1,069  acres;  (2)  Bronx  Park,  between  West  Farms,  and  William's 


96  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

years  of  metropolitan  cycling.  A  shabby  wooden  structure  there  supplied 
shelter  for  the  clubs,  whose  respective  "rooms"  were  inclose  connection 
with  the  office,  salesroom  and  repair-shop  of  a  bicycle  agency, — afterwards 
removed  to  59th  st  The  establishment  of  G.  R.  Bidwell  &  Co.,  on  60th  st 
(No.  4),  now  offers  to  cyclers  in  that  part  of  the  city  all  nee4ed  facilities  for 
repairs  or  storage.  Bicycles  and  tricycles  may  there  be  hired  (at  50c.  or  75c. 
for  an  hour — %2  or  I3  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.  2)  are  the  rooms  of  the  Ixion  Bicy- 
cle Club,  for  two  years  occupied  by  the  Citizens  Bicycle  Club,  whose  perma- 
nent home  is  on  58th  st.  (No.  313,  north  side,  a  few  doors  west  of  8th  av.) 
The  Wfuel  of  April  18,  18S4,  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,  1883,  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  20^  ft.  In  order  to  have 
legal  possession  of  this  important  piece  of  property,  the  club  was  incor- 
porated under  the  laws  of  the  State,  August  30,  1883  (though  its  organization 
dates  from  June  i,  1S82) ;  and  its  printed  list  of  active  members  in  August, 
1884,  exhibited  76  names.  The  rooms  of  the  New  York  Bicycle  Club  (organ* 
ized  December  18,  1879,  and  having  41  active  members  and  7  honorary  ones, 
in  February,  1885),  are  in  the  building  at  the  corner  of  57th  st.  and  Broadway 
They  have  served  satisfactorily  as  headquarters  for  the  past  two  years ;  and 
as  the  club-janitor  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  all  for  their  other  social  pleasures  upon  meetings  at 
the  club-house.    A  similar  characterization  may  be  applied  to  the  Brooklyn 


Bridge,  divided  by  the  river,  653  acres ;  (3)  Crotona  Park,  below  N.  3d  and  Boston  a^s.,  135 
acres ;  (4)  Mary's  Park,  in  Morrisania,  about  25  acres ;  (5)  Claremont  Park,  about  ]  m.  east 
of  High  Bridge,  38  acres;  (6)  Pelham  Bay  Park,  on  Long  Island  Sound,  about  1,700  acres. 
With  coastal  indentations  and  open  water-front,  this  park  will  have  a  shore  line  o!  nine  miles ; 
and  it  is  to  be  connected  with  Bronx  Park  and  Van  Cortlandt  Park  by  a  macadamized  boule- 
vard.— "  Appletons'  Dictionary  of  New  York,"  pp.  50,  348,  somewhat  altered. 

At  the  present  writing  (April  14,  1885)  the  New  Parks  Bill,  proposed  by  Mayor  Grace,  as  a 
substitute  for  the  act  of  1884,  whose  provisions  are  presented  above,  is  pending  before  the  New 
York  Legislature.  This  bill  reduces  the  total  area  of  the  six  parks  fr<»n  3,945  acres  to  1,400 
acres,— cutting  oflf  Pelham  Bay  Paric  entirely,  and  substituting  for  it  Edgewater  Park  (33  acres), 
now  known  as  Spofford*s  Point  and  bounded  by  Edgewater  road,  Hunter's  Pcnnt  rood,  Farragul 
St.  and  the  shore  of  the  Sound.  The  bill  reduces  Van  Cortlandt  Park  to  about  750  acres,  Brooz- 
Park  to  about  300  acres,  and  Crotona  Park  to  90  acres ;  and  it  limits  to  $1,000,000  the  amount  to 
be  raised  by  tax  at  the  outset,  whereas  the  act  of  1884  requires  the  issue  of  $3,000,000  in  botlds. 


AROUND  NEW-YORK.  97 

Biqrcle  Club  (organized  June  21,  1S79),  whose  rooms  are  at  366  Livingston 
iX^  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  av.,  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  j 
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  159  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,  1881,  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  o{ 
its  members,  it  ranks  as  a  sort  of  east-side  counterpart  of  the  Citizens  Bicycle 
Club,  of  New  York.  Its  house  is  within  \  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  afternoqyis  and  Sunday. popmings,  he  will  be  likely  to  find 
several ^t  them  rea^yjfc'^ficorapany  hiB|  over  their  favorite  roads.  If  he 
reach  the  club-rooihsf(4SViAg  business  hours,  when  no  members  are  in  attend- 
ance, he  will  usually  ^d  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  rapidit)'  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- 
lyn 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 


98  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

rule.  These  up-town  ferries,  and  also  the  ones  running  from  Astoria^  make 
fewer  trips  than  those  in  the  down-town  region,  and  they  stop  business  for 
the  night  at  an  earlier  hour.  Five  cents  is  the  uniform  fare  on  all  the  horse- 
car  lines  of  the  city,  on  the  Broadway  stages,  and  on  the  elevated  railway's 
during  six  hours  of  each  day  (5.30  to  8.30  a.  m.,  and  4.30  to  7.30  p.  m.),  and 
during  the  whole  of  Sunday.  During  the  other  eighteen  hours  of  the  other 
six  days  of  the  week,  the  fare  is  ten  cents,  on  all  the  elevated  roads ;  and  I 
.  recommend  the  visitor  to  ride  the  full  length  of  all  of  them,  as  the  cheapest 
way  of  exhibiting  to  himself  the  magnitude  and  massiveness  of  the  metropolis. 
I3y  starting  at  the  Battery  in  a  train  of  the  so-called  6th  av.  line  (which 
enters  that  avenue  2  m.  above,  by  the  street  just  below  Washington  Square, 
and  which  leaves  it  at  53d  St.,  continuing  thence  through  9th  and  8th  avs. 
to  the  Harlem  River  at  iSSth  st ),  the  tourist  may  be  carried  10  m.  in 
a  comfortable  and  elegant  car,  whose  windows  will  show  him  a  swiftly-chang- 
ing succession  of  strange  and  interesting  scenes.  So  novel  and  expeditious  a 
mode  of  sight-seeing,  at  such  insignificant  a  cost  as  half-a-cent  ainile,  is  no- 
where else  offered  in  the  world.  From  the  elevated  terminus,  the  journey 
may  be  continued  by  a  connecting  train  across  the  Harlem  to  High  Bridge, 
Kingsbridge,  Yonkers  and  Tarrytown,  through  the  Nepperhan  valley,  already 
described  (pp.  75,  79) ;  and  a  belated  bicycler,  who  may  choose  to  leave  his 
wheel  in  that  region  for  the  night,  can  therefore  get  back  to  the  city  with  but 
slight  cost  or  delay.  I  advise  the  explorer  on  the  return  trip  to  change  cars 
at  59th  St.  (which  is  the  station  nearest  the  clubs*  headquarters  and  the  south- 
west corner  entrance  of  Central  Park),  and  go  thence  by  the  9th  av.  line, 
along  the  west  edge  of  the  city,  to  the  terminus  at  the  Battery.  He  will  do 
well,  also,  to  "  stop  over  "  for  a  train  or  two  at  i  i6th  St.,  the  loftiest  station 
in  the  city,  for  the  sake  of  a  more  leisurely  view  of  the  wide  stretch  of  coun 
try  there  spread  out  before  him.  The  concourse  of  pleasure  vehicles  which 
may  be  overlooked  here  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  long  rows  of  street  lamps 
in  the  evening,  make  this  station  a  particularly  notable  one.  It  differs  ffom 
most  in  being  placed  inside  the  tracks,  instead  of  outside  them, — thus  en- 
abling a  transfer  to  be  made  between  the  trains  going  in  opposite  directions, 
without  the  necessity  of  an  intermediate  descent  to  the  street.  Such  change 
implies  the  payment  of  a  new  fare,  however,  whereas  no  extra  charge  is  made 
the  traveler  for  any  number  of  changes  between  trains  going  in  the  same  di- 
rection. The  3d  av.  line  leads  from  the  Battery  to  Chatham  Square,  thence 
through  the  Bowery  to  8th  st.  and  thence  through  3d  av.  to  the  terminus  at 
129th  St.,  just  below  Harlem  Bridge.  This  is  nearly  a  mile  east  of  the 
nearest  station  on  8th  av.,  and,  though  a  horse-car  line  makes  close  connec- 
tion, the  explorer  is  advised  to  walk  eastward  along  127th  st.  to  the  terminus 
of  the  2d  av.  line,  and  ride  back  in  one  of  its  cars  to  Chatham  Square.  This 
route  turns  away  from  2d  av.  at  23d  st.  (after  allowing  its  passengers  to  look 
down  upon  the  tops  of  four-story  houses,  and  to  have  extensive  views  <rf  ■ 
East  River  in  the  region  of  Hell  Gate),  and  it  connects  at  the  Chatham 


AROUND  NEW'YORK. 


99 


Square  terminus  with  the  3d  av.  line  to  the  Battery,  and  also  with  a  short 
line  to  the  City  HaJI  (entrance  to  the  Bridge).  Another  transfer  may  be 
made,  without  payment  of  extra  fare,  along  the  short  line  through  34th  St., 
connecting  both  the  3d  av.  and  the  2d  av.  tracks  with  the  ferry  to  Hunter's 
Point  (Long  Island  City) ;  and  still  another  branch  connects  the  42d  st.  sta- 
tion on  3d  av.  with  the  Grand  Central  Depot.  After  thoroughly  exploring 
these  remarkable  railways  (implying,  say,  about  40  m.  of  travel,  at  a  cost  of 
20c.),  I  advise  the  visitor  to  take  a  seat  beside  the  driver  of  an  omnibus 
at  one  of  the  ferries  (either  at  the  Battery,  or  at  Wall  St.,  or  at  Fulton  st.), 
and  ride  up  through  Broadway  and  one  of  the  avenues  to  the  terminus  of  the 
line  (joth  st.,  42d  st.,  or  47th  st.).  The  station  of  the  United  States  Army 
Signal  Service  in  the  tower  of  the  Equitable  Building,  at  120  Broadway,  is 
the  third  outlook  which  I  always  recommend  to  the  man  who  wishes  to  "  see  " 
New  York  City.  Elevators  give  free  access  to  the  roof;  and  the  views  to  be 
had  there  (or  from  the  adjacent  spire  of  Trinity  Church,  which  must  be 
dimbed  on  foot)  can  be  matched  nowhere  else  upon  this  planet,  in  respect  to 
the  vastness  and  variety  of  human  bustle  and  activity  simultaneously  ex- 
hibited upon  both  land  and  water.  Neither  London,  nor  Paris,  nor  Liver- 
pool, nor  any  other  one  of  the  world's  great  ports  or  capitals,  can  show  any- 
thing at  all  comparable  to  it 

••  The  County  Atlas  of  Westche«ter»»  (New  York  :  J.  B.  Beers  &  Co.,  36  Vesey  st,  187a,  pp. 
80,  price  $10)  has  proved  of  great  service  in  the  compiUtion  of  the  present  report,  and  I  recom- 
meod  its  study  to  those  who  wish  to  make  extensive  explorations  by  wheel  in  the  region  de- 
soibed.  Its  largest  map  (about  28  inches  square,  on  a  scale  of  4  dl  to  the  inch,  divided  by  lo-m. 
drdes  centering  in  the  New  York  City  Hall)  takes  in  the  cities  of  New  Haven,  Ct.»  Poaghkeep- 
sie,  N.  Y.,  Trenton,  N.  J.»  several  towns  of  Pennsylvania,  and  nearly  all  of  Long  Island.  The 
other  pages  measure  14  by  17  inches,  and  the  last  70  of  them  are  given  entirely  to  maps,  some  of 
which  show  the  entire  surface  from  the  Battefy  to  Tarrytown  and  beyond,  on  a  scale  of  120  rods 
to  the  inch.  The  same  publishers  issue  atlases,  of  similar  size  and  price,  for  more  than  30  other 
counties  of  the  State,  and  for  more  than  100  counties  in  other  States,  as  follows :  Maine,  a  ;  Ver- 
mont, 10;  Massachusetts,  ro;  Connecticut,  6 ;  New  Jersey,  10;  Pennsylvania,  ai ;  Maryland, 
a ;  Ohio,  9 ;  Kentucky,  5 ;  Michigan,  11 ;  Missouri,  14 ;  Kansas,  7.  They  also  publish  pocket- 
maps  at  the  following  prices  :  New  York  City  and  surroundings,  %\ ;  Brooklyn,  3sc. ;  Kings 
Coanty  (which  includes  Brooklyn),  50c. ;  Long  Island,  75c. ;  Lake  George,  $i.as ;  Sullivan  and 
Ubter  Counties,  50c. ;  Rockland  and  Orange  Counties,  soc.  (the  scale  of  these  county  charts 
being  2^  m.  to  the  inch,  and  the  site  of  the  sheet  about  24  by  18  inches). 

The  "  Descriptive  Catalogue  of  maps  and  atlases  published  by  G.  W.  &  C.  B.  Colton  &  Co.  '* 
(32  pp.,  fine  type,  sent  free  from  182  William  St.,  N.  Y.)  gives  the  prices  of  about  250  mapn, 
covering  all  sections  of  the  Union,  and  many  foreign  countries.  I  ui^  those  who  may  wish  to 
buy  large  wall>maps,  for  hanging  up  in  wheelmen's  club-rooms,  to  consult  this  list ;  and  I  shall 
describe  several  of  its  pocket-maps  in  the  foot-notes  of  my  Uter  chapters.  It  is  to  be  understood 
that  each  map,  unless  otherwise  specified,  is  printed  in  colon,  on  bank-note  paper,  and  folded 
in  a  doth-bound  cover.  I  heartily  recommend  to  every  explorer  of  the  region  described  in  the 
present  chapter,  Colton's  "Westchester  County**  (issued  1867,  revised  1884;  scale,  i  3-4  m. 
to  the  inch ;  sheet,  29  by  18  in.;  price,  75c.),  which  represents,  with  perfect  deamess,  all  of  my 
routes  lying  in  that  county,  and  also  the  roads  in  the  southwest  comer  of  Connecticut  Another 
adminbie  chart  for  bicyders,  on  account  of  its  large  scale,  i-a  m.  to  the  inch,  is  "  Staten 
Island**  (1884,  32  by  27  m.,  %i%  while  "Long  Island,**  2  m.  to  the  inch,  is  also  excellent  (1873, 


>iA 


loo  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

revised  1884,  68  by  32  in.,  $2.50),  though  rather  unwieldy  for  pocket  um.  It  shows  the  road» 
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  (#5),  it  would  be  an  addi- 
tion to  any  metropolitan  club-room.  Smaller  maps  of  the  island  are  published  at  $1.50  (58  by 
27  in.)  and  50c.  (25  by  12  in.),  and  separate  maps  of  Brooklyn  (37  by  30  in.  and  32  by  24  in.)  at 
similar  prices.  "  New  Vork  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  club-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  (iS  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  toix>graph!cal  map,  mounted. 
New  Jersey  has  three  (i3  by  14  in.,  26  by  19  in.  and  26  by  35  in.),  prices  50c.,  75c.  and  J1.25,— 
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  oorthem  half  of  New  Jersey  is  promised  for  1SS6; 
with  the  adjoining  southern  counties  of  New  York,  and  a  good  part  of  Westchester  county  00 
the  east  (75c.  or  ;^i),  and  its  scale  of  3  m.  to  the  inch  will  doubtless  make  it  acceptable. 

Other  map-publishers  are  G.  H.  Adams  &  Son,  59  Beekman  st.,  and  E.  Stciger,  25  Park  pi, 
and  the  offices  of  all  four  are  quite  near  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,  136-130  Nassau  st,,  b  only  a  few  steps 
away.  E.  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  Fuhon  st.  Wilson's  "  Busi- 
ness Directory  ''  presents  classified  lists  of  all  the  trades  and  professions.  Trow*s  "  City  Direc- 
tory," giving  the  pames,  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  Bullinger'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  Townscnd  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  4I  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  i^  inches  to  the  mile,  shows  all  the  roads  of  the  city  to  the  Yonkers  boundary  (including  those 
of  Central  Park),  wilh  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  Brookl)'u,  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- 
shl]>  lines,  routes  of  the  horse-cars,  rates  of  cabs  and  hacks,  stations  of  the  elevated  roads, 
din.xifry  of  streets,  and  lists  of  telegraph-offices,  police-stations,  theaters,  hotels,  restaurants, 
chiirrlies,  clubs,  societies,  hospitals,  and  other  institutions,  may  be  mentioned  among  the  nuro- 
berles-i  carefully  classified  bits  of  statistics,  compa(;tly  presented,  which  render  this  little  book 
wnrihv  of  its  big  name.  It  is  a  genuine  pocket-companion,  which  no  visitor  can  afford  to  be 
wIlhrKLit,  and  which  will  save  from  three  to  ten  times  its  cost  during  e^ery  day  of  his  sojourn. 

For  the  convenience  of  wheelmen  who  may  desire  to  have  this  pretent  chapter  as  a  pocket* 
cQiTipanion  also,  I  intend  to  republish  it  as  a  separate  pamphlet  (to  be  supplied  by  mail  in  return 
for  twrinty-five  on  "-cent  <tamps),  and  I  shall  prepare  for  it  a  special  index,  giving  references  not 
only  (41  every  town  and  village  but  also  to  every  street,  roa4,  ferry,  club-houae,  hotel  and  land- 
tnark  i)f  any  sort  whose  name  is  mentioned  in  the  text. 


V 


IX. 

OUT  FROM  BOSTON.^ 

When  I  finished  my  500m.  autumn  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  the  early  dawn  of  the 
last  Saturday  in  May,  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  revealed  to  the  youth  who  had 
consented  to  take  a  two-days'  ride  with  me,  according  to  my  proposal  in  the 
BL  IVorld,  and  who,  after  a  lo-m.  spin  from  the  suburbs,  was  awaiting  my 
arrival  in  front  of  the  Hotel  Brunswick. 

Mounting  there  at  8.30,  we  took  a  5-m.  path  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  3  P.  M.  at  the 
Essex  House,  26^  m.  from  the  start;  thence  to  Wenham;  4  m.,  one  hour; 
Ipswich,  6  m.,  |  h. ;  and  Rowley  railroad  station,  5  m.,  f  h.  There  we  took 
the  train  to  Portsmouth,  N.  H. ;  and  after  indulging  in  4  m.  more  of  wheel- 
ing, in  order  to  visit  the  Kittery  Navy  Yard,  in  the  State  of  Maine,  dis- 
mounted for  the  night  at  the  Rockingham  House,  at  8.15.  The  weather  of 
the  day  had  been  favorable ;  for  though  the  clouds  threatened  in  the  morning 
and  a  few  rain-drops  really  fell,  the  afternoon  was  bright.  The  clouds  of  the 
next  morning,  however,  were  not  only  threatening,  but  they  fulfilled  their 
threat.  We  left  Portsmouth  at  5  o'clock,  and  reached  the  Merrimac  Hotel 
in  Newburyport,  20  m.,  at  8.45,  in  a  thoroughly  dampened  condition,  for  the 
heavy  mist  of  the  early  part  of  the  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  start  for  Boston.  Even  when  we 
went  down  to  dinner  at  1.30,  we  had  no  hope  of  avoiding  this  inglorious  end- 
ing of  our  excursion,  though  the  rain  ceased  to  fall  soon  after  noon.  The 
bright  sun,  however,  soon  tempted  an  examination  of  the  roads,  and  the  ex- 
amination tempted  us  to  risk  the  mud  and  start  along  at  2.45. 

Once  clear  of  the  shaded  streets  of  the  town,  we  found  no  trouble,  for 
the  soil  and  sunshine  had  absorbed  the  moisture  of  the  morning,  and  the 

iFrom  751^  Bkyclhig  World,  August  26,  1881,  pp.  X8S-189. 


I02  TEN  THOUSAND  AflLES  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  companion  proceeded  a  little 
further,  and  as  he  rode  somewhat  before  joining  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  did  n't  get  started  till  afternoon,  because  I  did  n'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 

lln  wheeling  towards  Portsmouth,  the  Seabrook  sands  can  be  ax'oided  by  following  the 
horse-car  tracks  from  Newburyp<»t,  by  the  Chain  Bridge,  to  Amesbury,  instead  of  crossing  the 
Merrimac  River  on  t&e  old  travel  bridge,  near  the  railroad  bridge  at  Newburyport.  After  cross, 
bg  the  Chain  Bridge,  wheelmen  should  take  the  second  right  turn  at  the  guide4x}ard  marked 
"  18  m.  to  Portsmouth,"  which  road'  leads  to  the  large  Rocky  Hill  meeting-house,  where  a 
guide-board  is  marked  "  Hampton,  9  m.,"  which  road  ends  at  Methodist  Churdi  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  Chiuxi)  in  Seabrook,  marked  "  Ames- 
bury  Village,  3^  m.,"  should  be  followed,  instead  of  the  left  (me,  "  Newburyport,  4]  m."  At 
the  open  space,  about  2  m.  beyond,  is  a  guide-board  inscribed  "  Newbur3rport,  a  m.,"  meaning 
the  boundary  line,  not  the  dty.  This  road  4eads  to  Rocky  Hill  meeting-house,  where  the 
straight  road,  instead  of  turning  to  the  left,  leads  to  the  horse-car  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  ra.  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.— Tslzah,  in  BL  World,  Aug.  a6,  1881,  p.  190L 


OUT  FROM  BOSTON,  103 

ran  away  with  me  but  did  n*t  qoite  throw  me  off.  Dm-ing  about  half  of  this 
afternoon's  ride  I  had  a  pleasant  chance  companion  in  the  person  of  a  sturdy 
youth  on  a  big  wheel,  who  said  his  brother  drove  a  sixty-inch,  and  who  will 
himself,  I  doubt  not,  ultimately  attain  the  requisite  stature  for  driving  a  sim- 
ilar monster.  On  Thursday  morning,  at  9  o'clock,  having  sent  my  baggage  to 
Springfield,  I  bade  adieu  to  the  Hotel  Vendome,  and  rode  out  to  Cambridge 
for  breakfast.  I  had  planned  to  start  at  5 ;  but  the  rain  was  drizzling  down 
when  the  waiter  called  me  then,  and  I  was  glad  to  sleep  for  another  three 
hoars.  Even  at  9  the  sun  had  not  been  shining  long  enough  to  dry  the  roads ; 
but  by  noon,  when  I  left  Harvard  Square,  all  ill-effects  of  the  rain  had  dis- 
appeared. At  Mount  Auburn  Cemetery,  the  superintendent  denied  my  ve- 
hicle the  privilege  of  entering  the  gates  ;.  so  I  journeyed  throqgh  North  Cam- 
bridge to  the  Monument  House  in  Lexington,  where  I  stopped  for  lunch  at  a 
o'clock,  some  21m.  from  the  start  and  10  m.  from  the  college  yard.  I  was 
told  that  the  road  towards  Concord  was  inferior,  and  so  went  from  Lexington 
to  Waltham,  an  excellent  spin  of  6^  m.,  in  about  }  h.  Leaving  there  a  half- 
hour  later,  my  first  stop  was  caused  in  an  hour  by  some  road  repairs  in 
Wellesley,  7J  m.  At  South  Framingham,  I  took  another  rest,  leaving  there 
at  6^  and  reaching  Northboro'  hotel,  14^  m.,  at  7.45,  making  54}  m.  for  the  day. 

When  I  made  my  next  mount,  at  5.30  on  Friday  morning,  a  chilly  wind 
from  the  east  blew  against  my  back  and  threatened  all  the  while  to  turn  the 
prevailing  heavy  mist  into  unmistakable  rain.  The  best  I  dared  hope  for 
was  to  reach  Worcester  before  the  roads  should  get  too  slippery.  I  did 
reach  the  railroad  station  there,  9  m.,  in  1}  h.,  which  I  thought  creditably  fast 
traveling,  considering  the  hills.  Where  the  roads  fork  at  about  the  middle  of 
the  journey,  I  took  the  ''  new  "  or  left-hand  one,  and  went  down  grade  for 
about  a  mile  to  the  railroad  track  (where  perhaps  a  tourist  bound  for  Bos- 
ton might  well  take  the  road  for  Westboro*  rather  than  the  Northboro*  road, 
down  which  I  came).  If  any  of  the  Worcester  riders  remember  the  bad 
words  I  used  about  the  journey  from  that  city  to  South  Framingham,  in  the 
reix>rt  which  I  printed  concerning  my  first  ride  from  Springfield  to  Boston  in 
1879,  let  me  confess  to  them  that  it  was  all  a  mistake, — a  clear  case  of  "a 
good  man  gone  wrong."  Trusting  to  the  Grafton  route  described  in  "  The 
American  Bicycler,"  I  failed  even  to  follow  that  with  accuracy,  and  therefore 
used  up  the  whole  of  a  day  in  doing  some  25  m.  I  now  wish  to  say  that  the 
proper  track  between  Worcester  and  Boston  is  as  good  a  one  as  need  be. 

The  east  wind  and  heavy  mist  were  as  threatening  as  ever  when  I  finished 
breakfast  in  Worcester ;  but,  remembering  the  proverb  that  "  it's  an  ill-wind 
that  blows  nobody  good,"  I  ventured  to  hope  that  mine  might  be  the  body 
which  this  particular  ill-wind  (cursed  through  the  chattering  teeth  of  every- 
one else  whom  I  met)  was  destined  to  benefit.  So  at  7.40  I  mounted  again, 
and  in  an  hour  had  got  to  the  hill  beyond  the  brick  church  in  Leicester, 
nearly  6  m.  I  stopped  next  at  Spencer,  an  hour  later,  4^  m.  The  mist  here 
was  almost  thick  enough  to  cut,  and  the  shivering  Spencerians,  clad  in  over- 


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}  ro.,  was  reached  at  ii.3$, 
and  West  Brookfield,  3  m.,  \  h.  later.  Wlien  I  started  on  again  at  2  o'clock,  the 
mjst  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  lakq  side,  about  a  mile  beyond  the  hotel  where  I  should  have  taken  the 
left^haiia  road  to  Warren,  I  took  the  right-hand  one  ;  and,  when  I  discovered 
^  .my  mistake, .  \  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 
'^tm-^  prpbably  rougher)  route.  Five  miles  more  brought  me  to  Ware,  at  3.30  p.  M.; 
an4  I'horndike,  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  \\  h., 
'  spite  of  several  hills,  and  another  mile  of  good  sidewalk  then  led  to  Indian 
Orchar'd,  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  help>ed  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  945  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  sL,  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  ad-de-sac^ 
at  whose  entrance  he  carelessly  failed  to  notice  the  warning,  "  No  thorough- 
fare I "  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. 


OUT  FROM  BOSTON.  105 

characterize  the  adjacent  plaza  called  Scollay  Square.  That  stone-paved 
opening  is  the  lenninus  of  Tremont  St.,  a  main  artery  of  the  city,  stretching 
westward  for  3  m.  or  more  (and,  practically,  also  of  Washington  st.,  which 
nins  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-conductors  continually  do  cry.  In  strange 
contrast  to  all  this  rush  and  tumult,  is  the  profound  repose  of  the  decorous  lit- 
tle Pemberton  Square,  which  I  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,  Worlds 
whose  office  has  been  in  one  of  the  upper-floors  of  No.  8,  at  the  north  end  of 
the  square,  since  October  28,  1881. 

On  descending  thence  to  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  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  J  m.  east,  and  both  lines 
lead  to  New  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  m.,  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  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  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,  terra-cotta  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 


io6  .        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

vote  to  '  form  a  corporation  for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  land  and  building 
a  club-house '  was  taken  as  late  as  March  4,  1884 ;  and  the  beautiful  structure 
owes  its  existence  to  the  agency  of  one  man — Colonel  Albert  A.  Pope."  An 
illustrated  history  of  the  Boston  Bicycle  Club,  the  oldest  in  America  (by 
Charles  £.  Pratt,  for  four  years  its  president,  in  the  Wheelman^  March,  188;^ 
pp.  401-412),  gives  a  picture  of  its  former  house  on  the  comer  of  Union  Park 
and  Tremont  St.,  which  was  taken  possession  of  December  5,  1881 ;  and  also 
of  Cobb's  Tavern,  in  Sharon,  a  favorite  objective  point  for  club  runs. 

The  finest  boulevard  in  the  city  is  Commonwealth  a  v.,  stretching  in  a 
straight  line  from  Arlington  st.  (the  western  border  of  the  Public  Garden)  to 
the  street  called  West  Chester  Park  (i  m.),  and  at  right  angles  to  each  of  them. 
It  is  the  second  street  south  of  Beacon  st.  (the  north  windows  of  whose  north- 
side  houses  overlook  the  Charles  River) ;  and  just  below  the  avenue  is  New- 
bury St.  and  then  Boylston  st. — these  five  thoroughfares  being  parallel  to  and 
equidistant  from  each  other,  for  the  specified  mile.  This  is  distinctively  the 
fashionable  "  Back  Bay  district "  of  Boston,  reclaimed  in  recent  years  from 
the  marshes  which  used  to  be  flooded  by  the  river  tides,  and  it  is  now  pretty 
solidly  covered  over  with  the  most  ornate  and  expensively-built  houses  in  the 
city.  Dartmouth  st.,  which  is  the  third  western  parallel  of  Arlington  st. 
(border  of  Public  Garden),  forms  the  eastern  side  of  the  great  Hotel  Ven- 
dome,  which  fronts  northward  on  Commonwealth  av.,  and  it  also  forms  the 
eastern  side  of  the  New  Old  South  Church,  which  fronts  southward  on  Boyls- 
ton St.  The  rear  of  this  church  is  close  upon  the  rear  of  the  Massachusetts 
Bicycle  Club  house,  which  fronts  northward  upon  Newbury  st. ;  and  one 
block  eastward  from  the  church  is  Trinity  Church,  fronting  on  Trinity  Square 
(a  favorite  rendezvous  and  starting-point  for  club  runs),  adjacent  to  which  are 
the  Hotel  Brunswick,  the  Institute  of  Technology,  the  Museum  of  Fine  Arts, 
and  the  Natural  History  Museum.  All  these  buildings  are  within  \  m.  of  the 
clock-tower,  before  recommended  as  a  useful  landmark  for  the  visitor's  guid- 
ance, and  this  may  also  serve  to  show  him  where  Columbus  av.  branches  off 
southwestward  from  Boylston  st. ;  for  that  avenue,  after  about  \  m.  of  Belgian 
blocks,  offers  nearly  i  m.  of  asphalt  surface, 'to  West  Chester  Park,  up  which 
he  may  turn,  right,  to  Commonwealth  av.  Dartmouth  st.  also  affords  a 
smooth  connection  between  this  and  Columbus  av.,  near  the  end  of  whose 
asphalt  a  turn  may  be  made,  left,  through  East  Chester  Park,  and  then  by  way 
of  Albany,  Swett,  Boston,  Columbia,  and  Washington  sts.,  out  of  the  city  to 
Milton  Lower  Mills,  and  so  to  Quincy,  Brockton  and  Taunton,  or  to  Paw- 
tucket  and  Providence.  Chestnut  Hill  Reservoir,  however,  is  the  best  ob- 
jective point  for  the  stranger  to  steer  for  when  he  first  wheels  out  from  Bos- 
ton ;  and  the  best  route  thither,  from  the  end  of  Commonwealth  av.,  is  the 
direct  one  which  is  supplied  by  Beacon  st.,  leatting  over  the  so-called  Mill- 
dam.  Brighton  St.,  which  is  crossed  at  right  angles  just  before  entering  the 
reservoir  (whose  roads  allow  a  circuit  of  2\  m.  of  id«ally  smooth  macadam)  is 
almost  exactly  5  m.  from  Pemberton  Square. 


OUT  FROM  BOSTON. 


107 


My  only  visit  to  the  editorial  rooms  before  noted  as  overlooking  this 
s<)uare  was  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  my  landing  in  Boston,  Sept.  10,  '83, 
on  the  return  from  a  tour  in  Nova  Scotia.  I  then  gave  careful  study  to  the 
various  suburban  wheeling  routes  which  had  been  marked  upon  the  large  map 
hanging  from  the  wall,  and  I  procured  a  copy  of  the  Bu  World  of  August  31, 
containing  H.  W.  W.*s  brief  report  of  the  roads  leading  to  Providence  and 
"Warren,  R,  I.  (63  m.).  Two  other  tourists  were  my  companions,  next  morning, 
as  far  as  the  reservoir,— our  route  being  the  indirect  one  through  Brighton, — 
and  before  they  took  leave  of  me,  at  the  point  where  the  road  dividing  the 
two  ponds  of  the  reservoir  has  its  outlet  on  Beacon  St.,  their  united  praises  of 
a  certain  hateful  "  take-me-too  belt  "  were  beginning  to  have  the  deplorable 
effect  of  unsettling  my  just  prejudice  against  it.  At  10  o'clock  I  started  on, 
taking  the  first  turn  to  the  left  (Hammond  st.)  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  which 
I  ascended  westward  from  the  reservoir  road,  and  going  by  this  street  and 
then  La  Grange  st.  to  the  store  in  West  Roxbury  at  10.40  (5  m.).  There  I 
turned  to  the  right,  and,  in  a  few  rods,  took  the.  left  fork  in  the  road  (Center 
St.)  to  Memorial  Hall,  in  Dedham,  at  ix  {i\  m.);  passing  under  the  railway 
just  above  the  station  called  Ellis  (2^  m.),  and  stopping  for  dinner  at  Nor- 
wood (j^  m.);  whence  I  rode  to  the  post-o^ce  in  Walpole  (4^  m.)  in  44  min., 
which  was  just  double  the  time  taken  by  H.  W.  W.,  who,  however,  reported 
the  surface  in  superb  condition.  In  ordinary  weather  this  track  (about  16  m.) 
between  the  reservoir  and  Walpole  could  be  ridden  in  either  direction  with- 
out dismount ;  and,  on  the  present  occasion,  in  spite  of  the  deep  dust  caused 
by  six  weeks*  drought,  I  did  hardly  any  walking.  The  direct  road  for  Provi- 
dence from  Walpole  leads  through  Wrentham,  but  I,  in  obedience  to  the 
guide  before  quoted,  took  the  road  for  Foxboro*,  and  then,  i  m.  out,  where  I 
ought  to  have  turned  to  the  right,  down  the  turnpike,  I  mistakenly  kept 
straight  on  for  i  m.  Turning  here,  I  walked  2  m.  along  a  bad  road  which 
would  never  be  ridable  in  any  weather,  and  finally  reached  the  turnpike 
again,  in  North  Walpole,  whence  I  rode  4  m.  to  Foxboro*,  and,  with  some  de- 
tours, to  the  central  park  in  Mansfield,  3^  m.,  finishing  there  at  6  o'clock  a 
day's  record  of  35  m. 

In  lack  of  any  regular  hotel,  I  spent  the  night  at  an  odd  sort  of  public 
boarding-house,  whence  I  started  at  8  a.  M.  of  Wednesday,  in  a  threatening 
mist,  which  soon  became  a  light  rain,  and  reached  East  Attleboro'  (S^  m., 
though  W.'s  record  says  9^  m.)  in  1}  h. ;  thence  through  the  manufacturing 
villages  of  Dodgeville  and  Hebronville  to  ^awtucket  (8i  m.),  in  ij  h.  Here  I 
halted  an  hour  for  dinner^in  the  midst  of  a  heavy  shower,  which  had  not 
ceased  when  I,  being  already  pretty  thoroughly  soaked,  resumed  my  journey. 
An  hour  later  (3  m.)  I  took  brief  shelter  at  a  church  shed  in  East  Providence, 
and  soon  afterwards  got  off  frbm  the  proper  track  and  tramped  through  the 
woods,  on  one  of  the  cross-roads,  for  4  m.  or  so,  without  getting  a  single 
chance  to  ride.  Following  this  came  6  m.  of  riding,  the  latter  part  of  it  on  a 
smooth  shell  surface,  to  Warren,  at" 4  o'clock;  and  then  4  m.  of  sidewalk 


io8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

wheeling,  with  only  occasional  dismounts,  to  Bristol,  making  34J  m.  for  the 
day.  There  was  no  rain  during  the  final  hour ;  but  it  fell  pretty  steadily  dur- 
ing the  night,  and  at  times  in  the  following  forenoon.  The  sun  shone  out  at 
I  o'clock,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  was  bright  and  hot,  in  spite  of  two  or  three 
short  showers.  Between  3  and  6.30  P.  M.  I  traversed  19  m.,  ending  at  the 
Hotel  Dorrance,  in  Providence.  The  sidewalks  of  Bristol  I  explored  for  3 
m.  before  beginning  the  return  journey,  and  the  best  part  of  this  was  the  8  m- 
of  shell  road  between  the  Barrington  bridge  beyond  Warren,  and  a  certain 
point  opposite  Providence,  where  I  turned  to  the  left  for  the  hotel,  which  I 
reached  (3  m.)  after  much  trundling  on  the  sidewalks.  Though  the  rains  had 
made  the  roads  heavy,  they  were  all  ridable,  and  I  was  only  i^  h.in  doing  the 
8  m.  The  scenery  of  this  route  overlooking  Providence  bay  and  river  is 
attractive;  and,  if  I  had  kept  straight  northward,  instead  of  crossing  it  Xo 
reach  the  city,  I  presume  I  might  have  had  these  water-views  all  the  way  to 
Pawtucket,  about  5  m.  above.  Bristol  is  a  sleepily  respectable  old  town,  near 
the  end  of  the  peninsula  between  Providence  Bay  and  Mount  Hope  Bay,  and 
is  distant  5  m.  from  the  very  lively  manufacturing  town  of  Fall  River,  which 
lies  upon  the  eastern  shore  of  the  latter.  A  ferry  used  to  connect  Bristol  with 
the  northern  end  of  Rhode  Island  isJand,  upon  whose  southern  extremity,  about 
10  m.  below,  stands  the  city  of  Newport;  and  the  present  keeper  of  the  light- 
house, at  the  old  ferry  landing,  about  2  m.  from  the  center  of  Bristol,  occa- 
sionally plies  his  row-boat  for  the  accommodation  of  a  casual  traveler  who 
wishes  to  visit  the  island. ^ 

My  own  wheel  entered  Newport  by  boat  and  left  it  by  train,  on  the  occa- 
sion of  its  single  visit  there  in  1880 ;  but  the  train-journey,  which  was  on  the 


1"  H.  P.,"  in  Outingy  August,  1884,  pp.  350-354,  describing  a  September  ride  from  Prori. 
dence  to  Newport,  says  :  "  We  enjoyed  the  prospect  spread  before  us  as  we  lei  our  machines 
run  along  the  down-grade  h-om  Bristol.  The  road  continually  becomes  steeper,  with  here  and 
there  a  patch  of  sand,  until  it  terminates  on  the  beach  near  the  light-house.  The  keeper  w» 
twenty  minutes  in  rowing  us  across.  Mounting  then  near  the  Bristol  Ferry  House,  a  commo- 
dious summer  hotel,  we  toiled  up  a  steep  hill,  abounding  in  sand,  ruts  and  stones,  and,  at  the 
top  of  it,  instead  of  continuing  straight  south,  we  took  a  cross-road  to  the  right,  and,  after  follow- 
ing it  for  about  a  mile,  again  turned  south  into  the  *  West '  road.  Immediately  on  turning  into 
the  cross-road,  the  wheeling  became  better,  and  the  road  is  ridable  from  here  into  Newport, 
with  the  exception  of  two  hills,  5  and  6  m.  distant  from  N.  The  last  5  m.  were  travel^ 
quickly,  under  the  rising  moon,  and  we  ended  our  run,  from  Middletown  into  Newport,  oa.  a 
perfectly  macadamized  road.  Previously,  however,  we  had  rolled  our  wheels  over  the  fair 
island  in  every  direction  :  Now  along  Bellevue  av.,  bordered  on  either  side,  for  2  m.,  with  fine 
residences ;  now  into  the  country,  ever  varying  in  aspect,  where  the  ancient  windmills  and  old 
farm-houses  contrast  strangely  with  the  modem  pinnacled  and  gilded  cottages ;  now  to  Paradise, 
and  to  the  Hanging  Rocks,  under  the  shadow  of  which  Bishop  Berkeley  was  wont  to  sit  while 
he  was  writing  the  '  Minute  Philosopher ' ;  now  around  the  Ocean  Drive,  which  stretdies  for 
7  m.  along  the  rocky  shores  of  the  Atlantic  ocean.  *»  •  •  Instead  of  going  to  Bristol,  as  we 
did,  the  wheelman  may,  at  Warren,  bear  to  the  east,  and  go  through  Fall  River.  Crossing  Mt. 
Hope  Bay,  on  the  Slade's  Ferry  bridge,  he  may  ride  south  through  Fall  River  and  Tiverton, 
crossing  the  Seaconnet  river  over  the  *  Stone '  bridge,  to  Rhode  Island.  But  this  route  is  at 
least  5  m.  farther,  with  the  last  a  m.  at '  Ferry  Neck '  on  Rhode  Island,  through  vary  deep  sand." 


OUT  FROM  BOSTON.  109 

first  day  of  summer,  ended  quickly  at  Taunton,  and  I  thence  wheeled  to  Bos- 
ton (40  m.,  9.30  A.  M.  to  8  P.  M.),  with  four  companions,  who  were  the  first 
ones  I  ever  toured  with,  though  I  that  day  completed  my  i, 000th  m.  Through 
"  the  swamp,"  6  m.  from  the  start,  we  did  much  walking  or  slow  riding  for  3  m., 
and  then,  at  the  hotel  in  Brockton,  5  m.  beyond,  we  rested  i\  h.  for  dinner.  At 
the  Robertson  House,  in  Quincy  (13  m.)»  we  also  halted  \  h.for  cooling  bever- 
ages, and  quickly  again  at  the  Blue  Bell  Tavern,  -about  half  way  to  Milton 
Lower  Falls  (4  m.) ;  whence  our  course  led  through  Roxbury  (3  m.)  to  the 
hotel  in  Brighton  (5  m.),  where  I  spent  the  night.  Cobb's  Tavern,  in  Sharon, 
just  beyond  South  Canton  (a  favorite  objective  point  of  the  Boston  Bicycle 
Club),  is  6i  m.  from  Milton  Lower  Mills,  and  Mansfield  is  about  the  same 
distance  beyond  Cobb*s.  "These  roads  as  far  as  Mansfield  are  excellent, 
much  better  than  our  country  pikes,"  is  the  report  of  a  Pawtucket  man  ( T/te 
Wkeely  Feb,  6,  *85),  who  took  that  route  homeward  from  Boston ;  "  and  from 
Blue  Hill  to  Cobb's  they  are  like  billiard-tables,  giving  us  the  pleasantest  part 
of  the  run." 

My  route  to  Pawtucket,  from  the  Hotel  Dorrance,  in  Providence,  on  the 
morning  of  September  14,  was  5  m.  long,  and  lay  through  Westminster  st.  to 
N.  Main  St.,  whose  car  tracks  I  followed  to  Olney  st.  and  then  up-hill  to  the 
macadam  of  the  Swan  Point  road  (i^m.),  the  sidewalks  being  generally  ridable 
without  need  of  dismounting  at  the  curbs.  After  going  up-hill  to  the  left 
through  the  center  of  Pawtucket,  I  turned  to  the  right  at  the  top  of  it,  and  pro- 
ceeded along  the  sidewalks  to  Valley  Falls  Bridge  (i  J  m).  The  sign  "  8  m.  to 
Woonsocket"  was  ijm.  beyond  here,  and  I  followed  the  sidewalk  to  Ashton, 
and  then  the  road,  a  gradual  ascent  of  i  m.  or  more,  to  the  church  on  top  of 
Cumberland  hill  (5}  m.), — ^having  been  3  h.  in  doing  the  134  m.  The  descent 
was  sandy,  and  most  of  the  next  3  m.  had  to  be  walked,  to  the  region  of  the 
bridge,  followed  by  i  m.  of  riding  to  a  central  point  in  Woonsocket.  After  this 
came  i  m.  of  rather  poor  road  or  sidewalk,  of  black  sand  or  loam,  to  Black- 
stone,  on  a  little  stream  of  that  name,  whose  dark  and  dirty  waters  have  an 
outlet  at  Providence ;  and  I  was  told  that  the  river-road  running  alongside 
it  all  the  way  to  that  city  was  continuously  sandy.  The  only  header  of  my 
four  days'  tour  was  had  here,  while  trying  to  ride  along  a  narrow  ledge 
between  a  deep  rut  and  the  bushes,  just  before  reaching  Blackstone.  About 
2  m.  beyond  is  Millville,  where  I  bought  a  ticket  for  the  train  which  I  was  told 
would  save  me  from  6  m.  of  sand;  but,  on  learning  that  a  quarter-dollar  would 
be  exacted  for  carrying  my  bicycle  that  distance,  I  refused  to  submit  to  the 
extortion  and  so  plodded  on.  After  i  or  2  m.,  the  road  gradually  improved, 
and  I  reached  Uxbridge  (26^  m.  from  the  start)  at  2  o*clock,and  halted  briefly  for 
lunch.  The  railroad  station  in  Worcester  (18J  m.)  was  reached  at  5.20  P.  m., 
and  no  walking  was  required  on  the  way, — the  final  third  of  it,  from  Millbury 
m,  supplying  the  smoothest  stretch  of  the  tour, — Northbridge,  Farmersville, 
Fisherville  and  Saundersville  having  been  previously  passed  through. 
Taking  train  to  Springfield  at  6, 1  rode  thence  4  m.  into  the  country ;  total,  49  m. 


no  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Two  months  before  (June  16-17,  *83),  I  wheeled  from  West  Springfield  to 
Pembcrton  Square,  in  Boston  (103  m.), — my  first  day's  ride  (5  A.  M.  to  6  p.  M.) 
ending  at  Spencer,  44  m.  from  the  start.  The  first  dismount  was  caused  on 
the  sand  plain,  7  m.  after  starting,  and  2\  m.  before  I  reached  Indian  Orchard, 
where  I  stopped  for  breakfast  at  6.30.  At  Jenksville,  i  m.  beyond  (where  I 
recommend  tourists  to  cross  the  bridge,  I.,  and  take  the  route  for  Ware,  in 
spite  of  what  my  report  of  1881  says  against  it,  on  p.  104),  I  turned  to  r.,  and, 
after  crossing  the  railway,  kept  alongside  it  through  the  sand ;  following 
which  was  i  m.  of  clay  or  loam,  continuously  ridable ;  so  that  I  reached 
North  Wilbraham,  3f  m.from  the  bridge,  in  just  i  h.  White  sand,  alternating 
with  short  ridable  stretches  of  loam,  was  the  rule  as  far  as  Palmer  (5^  m.) 
and  West  Brimfield  (5J  m,)i  though  I  managed  to  get  over  each  section  in 
about  i|  h.  The  hill iest  and  sandiest  track  of  all  was  in  approaching  the 
last-named  station ;  and  beyond  it  I  encountered  "road  repairs"  for  i^  m. 
Progress  then  became  pleasanter  along  the  shaded  banks  of  the  Chicopee 
River,  whose  waters  plashed  merrily  over  the  stones ;  and  the  ridable  stretches 
were  more  frequent  to  West  Warren  (2  m.),  whence  I  rode  all  the  way  to  the 
hotel  in  Warren  (2jm.),  and  rested  there  3  h.  for  dinner.  Resuming  the  wheel 
at  3.30  o'clock,  I  found  decent  roads  to  the  fork  (2^  m.,  near  the  hill  and 
pond)  where  I,  two  years  before,  unwittingly  turned  towards  Ware.  I  now 
recommend  that  route  as  rather  less  objectionable  than  the  one  just  described. 
The  distance  between  this  pond  and  the  bridge  at  Jenksville  is  23  m.  by 
either  road,  and  each  one  of  them  contains  more  miles  of  unridable  surface 
than  any  similar  stretch  of  the  entire  route  from  New  York  to  Boston. 
Next  in  number  may  be  ranked  the  bad  miles  which  the  tourist  on  this  track 
must  conquer  between  Milford  and  Meriden,  in  Connecticut. 

The  smoothest  spin  of  the  afternoon  ended  at  the  pond  in  East  Brook- 
field  (7  m.  from  the  last-named  pond),  following  which  came  a  big  hill  and 
several  smaller  ones,  ending  at  the  Massasoit  House  in  Spencer  (3^  m.) ;  and 
when  I  started  thence,  at  5.30  o'clock,  next  morning,  I  was  forced  to  do  con- 
siderable walking,  here  and  there,  by  sand,  or  loam  in  the  form  of  deep  white 
dust,  or  gravel  which  had  been  carted  on  by  the  road  repairers.  I  surprised 
myself  by  riding  to  the  top  of  the  big  hill  in  Leicester  where  the  churches 
are  (first  on  the  east  sidewalk,  then  on  the  concrete  of  the  west  one  and  finally 
in  the  roadway),  and  also  to  the  top  of  the  following  hill,  where  stands  the 
brick  church, — ^for  a  short  shower  had  by  this  time  made  the  surface  heavy. 
Just  as  I  stopped  for  breakfast  at  a  restaurant,  a  little  beyond  the  public 
square  in  Worcester  (11^  m.  and  2\  h.  from  the  start),  the  rain  began  again  in 
good  earnest,  and  it  was  still  drizzling  when  I  resumed  my  ride  at  9.20. 
Turning  northward  at  the  railroad  station,  I  soon  climbed  up  the  big  hill  on 
which  stands  the  State  Hospital,  descended  thence  across  the  causeway  of 
Lake  Quinsigamond,  climbed  another  hill  and  so  reached  the  fork  (3^  m.*) 
where  one  sign  points  to  "  Shrewsbury  if  m."  and  the  other  says  "  Westboro 
61  m.    The  former  route  is  preferable,  though  it  slopes  continuously  upward 


OUT  FROM  BOSTON.  1 1 1 

for  about  i  m.  from  this  point,  and  it  is  the  route  by  which  T.  Midgley  once 
rode  straightaway  to  Boston  without  dismount ;  but,  as  I  had  tried  it  when 
riding  in  the  other  direction,  two  years  before  (p.  103),  I  thought  I  would 
explore  the  Westboro*  route,  and  so  I  plodded  straight  ahead,  up  one  tre- 
mendous hill  and  many  smaller  ones,  sandy  and  difficult  at  best,  and  some  of 
them  too  stony  even  for  riding  down, — until,  at  11.40,  where  a  cross-roads 
sign  said  "  Northboro'  3  m.  to  the  1.,"  I  turned  off  to  the  r.,  and  found  good 
riding  to  the  railroad  station  in  Westboro'  (10  m.  and  2^  h.  from  the  res- 
taurant in  Worcester).  Thence  I  wheeled  continuously, — ^not  stopping  even 
for  the  road  repairs  on  the  down-grades, — by  a  winding  and  hilly  road,  to  the 
hotel  in  Ashland,  9  m.  in  1}  h.  Resting  there  a  similar  time  for  dinner,  I  rode 
to  South  Framingbam  (3  m.  in  \  h.)  and  thence  without  stop  (3I  m.  in  25  min.)  to 
the  drug-store  in  Natick.  Mounting  there  at  4.30, 1  stayed  in  the  saddle  till 
5.45,  when  I  met  some  wheelmen  at  the  water  trough  of  Chestnut  Hill  Res- 
ervoir (II  m.),  and,  after  speeding  once  around  it  with  them,  I  took  a  detour 
out  through  Brighton,  and  finally  reached  Pemberton  Square  and  the  Craw- 
ford House,  at  7.45  o'clock,  with  a  day's  record  of  59  m.  I  sailed  the  fol- 
lowing morning  for  Portland, — there  to  join  the  party  whose  week's  advent- 
ures "  in  the  Down  East  fogs  "  may  be  found  detailed  in  Chapter  XX., — and  I 
remember  that  several  of  my  short  day's  journeys  "  in  the  procession,"  over 
roads  of  equally  good  average  surface,  tired  me  far  more  than  this  solitary 
Sunday  jaunt,  which  was  more  than  double  the  length  of  the  longest  of 
them.  The  air  was  clear  and  bracing,  with  bright  sunshine,  after  the  fore- 
noon's rain ;  and  the  afternoon's  roads  were  rather  improved  by  this.  I  think 
that  from  Ashland  (23  m.),  and  perhaps  even  from  Westboro'  (32  m.),  I  might 
have  ridden  to  Pemberton  Square  without  a  stop.  After  getting  near  the  top 
of  the  hill  at  Newton  Lower  Falls,  instead  of  turning  1.,  to  obey  the  sign 
•*  Boston  10  m.,"  I  kept  on,  r.,  to  the  summit,  "  Boston  9  m.";  followed  the  tele- 
graph poles  until  I  reached  the  sign  "Beacon  st."  in  the  woods,  and  then  con- 
tinued along  it,  up  some  steep  but  smooth  hills  to  the  reservoir. 

"The  Cyclist's  Road  Book  of  Boston  and  Vicinity,"  by  A  L.  Atkins,  League  Consul  for 
Boston,  was  published  by  him  April  11,  1885,  and  is  mailed  from  his  residence,  17  West  Walnut 
Puk,  or  from  the  office  of  the  Bi.  Worlds  on  receipt  of  15  c.  It  contains  41  "  routes,"  all  start- 
ing from  Trinity  Square,  and  arranged  in  tabular  form.  The  names  of  streets  or  other  localities 
make  a  column  in  the  middle  of  the  page,  preceded  by  the  word  "  right "  or  "  left,"  and  followed 
by  an  adjective  describing  the  surface,  or  else  a  numeral  designating  the  distance.  There  are  24 
of  these  pages  (6  by  4  in.),  and  a  similar  number  given  to  advertisements ;  but  the  latter  may  be 
reaifily  stripped  off  with  the  cover,  leaving  as  a  residuum  ioz.  of  valuable  information  (about 
j,ooo  words)  which  can  be  easily  tucked  into  the  vest-pocket,  and  which  is  well  worth  the  trifle 
dmged  for  it  to  any  wheelman  who  rides  in  the  region  of  Boston.  Many  of  these  "  routes  " 
are  also  given  in  detail  in  "  The  American  Bicycler  "  (Boston  ;  Charles  £.  Pratt,  1879)  pp.  134- 
149;  and  in  the  second  edition  thereof  (x88o,  price  tec.)  additional  ones,  in  tabular  form,  cover 
pp.  3i2-2a6,  and  raise  the  total  of  "  routes  "  to  85,  though  more  than  half  of  these  new  statistics 
bekmg outside  of  Massachusetts.  "The  First  Annual  Hand-Book,  1884-5,  o^  the  Mass.  Division, 
L  A.  W."  (complied  by  Edward  K.  Hill,  Chief  Consul  for  1883-41  Worcester,  and  published  in 
July,  1884,  by  J.  P.  Burbank,  Boston),  conuins  ax  "routes,"  condensed,  with  intelligent  de- 


112  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

scriptions,  into  4  pp.  of  fine  type ;  lists  of  towns  "  with  the  qualities  of  the  riding  in  each,"  arranged 
alphabetically  by  counties  (4  pp.) ;  general  and  sectional  descriptions  of  the  State  (5  pp.),  hotel 
list  (6  pp.),  League  information,  with  names  of  consuls  and  other  officers  (11  pp.),  advertisements 
(6  pp.),  and  a  dozen  blank  pages  for  memoranda.  Its  size  is  3I  by  6]  in. ;  weight,  ij  oz. ;  price, 
25  c.;  and  every  wheelman  who  designs  to  take  a  tour  in  the  State  should  buy  a  cx>py  of  the 
Division  officers  (M.  D.  Currier,  at  Lawrence,  or  F.  P.  Kendall,  at  Worcester). 

Tlie  book  just  named  reconunends  to  the  attention  of  riders  a  map  of  the  region  arcmnd 
Boston  (surveyed  1S83,  ^csX^  i  m.  to  t  inch,  price  j^x.so,  mounted  $3),  within  a  radius  of  about 
30  m.,  taking  in  Brockton,  s. ;  Natick,  w. ;  Lowell,  Andover  and  the  whole  of  Cape  Ann,  n. 
The  same  map  with  a  radius  of  about  xz  m.  (taking  in  Cohaseet  and  Dedham,  s. ;  Nalick  and 
Concord,  w. ;  Wakefield  and  Salem,  n.)  sells  for  75  c,  and  is  a  more  convenient  size  for  use 
upon  the  road.  The  Topographical  State  Atlas  (official,  1871,  scale  a^  m.  to  i  in.)  offers  eadb 
county  separately  for  50  c.  (doth  back,  75  c),  folded  in  cover  for  pocket  use ;  and  both  these  and 
the  Boston  maps  may  be  purchased  of  Cupples,  Upham  &  Co.,  2S3  Washington  st.  "Berk- 
shire," a  good  map  for  pocket  use,  is  mailed  free  to  every  one  sending  a  request  to  the  Berkshire 
Life  Insurance  Co.,  of  Piitsfield,  whose  advertisement  has  a  place,  of  course,  in  one  comer  of 
the  sheet.  The  size  of  this  is  32  by  24  in.,  though  the  map  covers  only  about  }  of  it ;  and,  as 
the  county  reaches  entirely  across  the  w.  end  of  Mass.,  the  roads  of  Conn.,  s. ;  N.  V.,  w.,  and  Vt., 
n.,  are  shown  for  about  3  m.  from  the  border.  The  scale  is  about  2^  m.  to  x  in.,  but  all  the 
roads  are  clearly  shown,  as  well  as  the  hills,  mountains,  streams  and  lakes ;  while  a  special  sur- 
charge of  red  is  given  to  the  main  roads,  and  special  symbols  of  that  tint  (star,  cross,  drde  and 
square)  show  the  place  of  each  school-house,  cemetery,  church  and  railroad  station.  As  the 
loads  from  Williamstown  (n.  w.  cor.  of  co.)  to  Pittsfield  are  fairly  ridable,  and  thence  down  the 
Housatonic  valley  to  Conn,  are  very  fine,  I  expect  that  the  Berks.  Life  Ins.  Co.  will  be  quickly 
forced  to  print  a  new  edition  of  their  excellent  map,  to  meet  the  demands  which  wheelmen  will 
make  for  it,  as  a  result  of  this  present  announcement.  The  copyright  (iSSs)  is  held  by  its  designer, 
Walter  Watson,  C.  E.,  and  the  engraving  and  printing  are  by  Struthers,  Servoss  &  Co.,  N.  Y. 
G.  H.  Walker  &  Co.,  lithographers,  x6o  Tremont  St.,  Boston,  publish  the  following  coonty 
maps :  Essex,  1884, 32  by  24  in.,  i^  m.  to  i  in.,  which  covers  all  the  coast-line  of  the  State 
from  the  suburbs  of  Boston  to  the  border  of  New  Hampshire;  Worcester,  18S4,  25  by 21 
in.,  2  m.  to  I  in. ;  Franklin,  1885,  28  by  18  in.,  \\  m.  to  i  in. ;  Hampshire  and  Hampden,  1884,  28 
by  22  in.,  \\  m.  to  i  in. ;  Bristol,  1880,  28  by  18.,  2  ra.  to  x  in.,  "prepared  expressly  for  this  atlas  " ; 
Plymouth,  xS8o,  30  by  20  in.,  2  m.  to  i  in. ;  and  Barnstable,  1880,  22  by  20  in.,  3  m.  to  i  in., 
"  prepared  expressly  f©r  this  atlas."  The  Cape  Cod  extremity  of  the  State  is  included  in  the 
latter  county ;  Plymouth  takes  in  the  rest  of  the  coast  as  far  as  Hingham,  and  Bristol  covers  the 
region  between  Plymouth  and  Rhode  Island.  Just  north  of  these  two  counties  is  Norfolk  (whoM 
map  is  now  in  preparation)  stretching  from  Worcester  County  to  the  coast ;  while  between  the 
two  latter  and  Essex,  lies  Middlesex,  whose  map  (30  by  25  in.,  i]  m.  to  i  in.)  is  to  be  issued 
May  15,  1885.  The  three  parallel  counties  of  Franklin,  Hampshire,  and  Hampden  make  a 
square  section  of  the  Sute,  with  the  western  end  of  each  bounded  by  Berkshire  and  the  eastern 
end  of  each  by  Worcester,  which  also  covers  a  square  section  nearly  as  lai^ge  as  the  three  com- 
bined. The  publishers  mail  these  maps  at  the  uniform  price  of  25  c.  (or  50  c.,  if  colored) ;  and 
any  desired  road-route  in  Massachusetts  may  thus  be  traced  out  in  advance,  by  every  tourist  who 
supplies  himself  with  one  or  another  of  these  cheap  county  charts. 

"The  Wheelman's  Hand-Book  of  Essex  County  "  (compiled  and  published  in  April,  18S4, 
by  George  Chinn,  of  Marblehead,  and  Fred  E.  Smith,  of  Ipswich,  and  mailed  by  them  on  receipt 
of  20  c)  is  described  upon  its  title  page  as  "  containing  brief  sketches  of  the  various  cities  and 
towns  of  the  county,  with  a  list  of  their  objects  of  interest ;  a  directory  of  hotels,  clubs,  consuls 
and  executives ;  road-routes,  etc. ;  also  the  history  of  the  League  of  Essex  County  Wheelmen." 
It  comprises  48  pp.  (5}  by  8  in.)  of  which  12  pp.  are  given  to  advertisements,  and  weighs  t\  ox. 
The  towns  are  arranged  alphabetically,  and  no  attempt  is  made  to  connect  them  by  "  routes," 
or  to  tabulate  or  index  the  information  in  the  pamphlet ;  but  every  tourist  from  Boston  to  Potts- 
mouth  ought  neverthelen  to  equip  himself  with  it,  as  well  as  with  Walker  &  Co. 's  map  of 


OUT  FROM  BOSTON.  1 13 

Easex.  King's  *'  Dicdonaiy  of  Boston  "  (550  pp.,  1,500  alphabetized  topics,  cloth  bound,  price 
|x),  compiled  by  Edwin  M.  Bacon,  editor  of  the  Advertiser,  ought  to  be  bought  by  every  visitor 
to  that  city.  His  "  Harvaxd  and  its  Surroundings  "  (1878,  pp.  92,  heliotypes,  cloth,  $\)  is  a  model 
guide  to  Cambridge.  The  remainder  of  the  series  issued  by  the  same  Moses  King  are  as  fol- 
lows: "  Handbook  of  Boston,"  "  Handbook  of  Boston  Harbor,"  "  Handbook  of  Springfield" 
<|i.So)>  and  "  Pocket4)ook  of  Cincinnati "  (15  c).  G.  W.  &  C.  B.  Colton  &  Co.,  182  William 
St.,  N.  Y.,  paUish  maps  of  *'  Boston  and  adjacent  towns  "  (34  by  29  in.,  |i),  '*  Mass.  and  R.  I." 
(i3  by  14 in.,  50 c),  which  contains  a  plan  of  the  Boston  region;  "  Mass.,  R.  I.  and  Conn." 
(33  ^  3'  in.,  #■),  and  the  '*  New  England  States  "  (41  by  3a  in.,  1(1.50,  mounted  ^3),  giving 
eastern  part  of  Mass.  on  large  scale,  with  parts  of  New  York  and  Canada.  G.  H.  Adams  & 
Son,  59  Beekroan  St.,  N.  Y.,  also  publish  a  map  of  "  Mass.  and  R.  I."  (1874, 6  m.  to  i  in.,  600), 
CD  two  sides  of  a  sheet,  19  by  28  in.,  which  is  worth  the  attention  of  bicyclers.  I  heartily  recom- 
mend to  them  aiso  a  map  which  Walker  &  Co.  are  to  publish  June  x,  and  whidi  I  have  }ttst  seen 
a  pfoof  impression  of.  On  a  sheet  30  by  24  in. ,  and  on  a  scale  of  i  m.  to  i  in. ,  with  circles  drawn 
at  X  m.  intervals  from  the  State  House  in  Boston,  it  shows  every  main  road  between  Manchester 
(a.  e.),  Marshfisld  (s.  e.),  Walpole  ($.  w.),  and  Billerica  (n.  w.),  covering  a  region  14  ra.  n.,  15  m. 
s.  and  8  m.  w.  of  the  central  pobt,  which  is  practically  Pemberton  Square.  The  names  of  the 
important  streets  are  given,  as  well  as  those  of  the  hills  and  brooks  and  other  landmarks.  The 
price  is  so  c,  or  75  G.  if  colored ;  and  the  colored  edition  is  folded  in  a  cloth-bound  cover.  Covers 
a!so  accompany  their  colored  county  maps.  Cupples,  Upham  &  Co.  have  just  informed  me  that 
their  State  Atlas  of  '71  '^  nearly  out  of  the  market, — second-hand  copies  selling  for  $8 — and 
that  they  have  a  few  sheets  of  the  separate  counties,  at  50  c.  (cloth-backed,  75  c.)  each.  Their 
"  Mass.,  R.  I.  and  part  of  Conn."  (32  by  21  in.,  2^  ra.  to  i  in.,  folded  in  cloth  cover  4  by  6  in., 
woi^hing  a  os.)  sells  for  $1,  or  $2  if  mounted.  Their  map  of  the  Boston  region  (scale  x  m.  to  i 
in.)  is  isstted  in  two  sizes,  with  three  styles  and  prices  for  each  size.  The  largest  ("  20-m. 
dicle")  is  44  by  4a  in.,  weighs  2  oz.  on  pardunent  paper,  and  costs  $1.50;  backed  with  cloth 
and  folded  to  5  by  7}  in.,  it  weighs  7I  oz.  and  costs  I3  ;  bound  and  varnished,  on  rollers,  it  costs 
the  same ;  folded  in  doth-slip  and  case,  $3.50.  The  "  lo-m.  circle  "  is  32  by  21  in.,  and  costs 
75  c  (i}  oz.),  $1.75  (3}  oz.)  or  $2.25  (4  oz.).  These  are  the  two  maps  described  at  the  beginning  of 
the  previous  paragraph  as  recommended  by  the  League  officers.  The  "  5-m.  circle  "  of  the  same 
pobliahen  (who  "  also  keep  in  stock  a  full  supply  of  maps  of  all  the  States, — this  department  of 
the  business  being  under  the  chaige  of  a  member  of  the  Mass.  6i.  Club  ")  is  on  the  much  larger 
icale  of  3I  in.  to  x  m.,  and  costs  25  c.  in  paper  cover  (2  oz.),  $1.25  in  cloth  cover,  doth-back*d 
(4  oz.),  or  lx.75  if  enclosed  in  a  slip-case  (5^  oz.), — size  of  sheet  being  35  by  28^  in. 

The  westward  road  "  out  from  Boston  "  was  the  course  chosen  for  the  first  American  bicyde 
ride  of  "  xoo  m.  straightaway  in  a  day  " ;  and  the  rider  was  Paul  Blatdtford,  of  Chicago,  C^ 
tain  of  the  Amherst  College  Bicycle  Club,  who,  in  returning  from  the  League's  second  annual 
Buet,  urtieeled  from  Boston  to  Amherst,  102  m.,  in  15  h.,  ending  at  8.30  p.  m.  This  was  only 
a  day  or  two  before  my  own  westward  ride  (see  p.  103),  and  his  route  coincided  with  mine  be- 
tween Wellcsley  and  Ware.  A  few  days  later,  June  6,  i88x,  another  member  of  the  same 
dub,  George  F.  Fiske,  of  New  Haven  (Amherst,  A.B.,  '8t  ;  Yale,  M.D.,  '83),  weighing  izo 
lbs.,  and  riding  a  48  in.  Columbia,  started  from  the  college-jrard  at  4  a.  m.,  and  got  beyond 
Bddbertown,  to  m.,  at  sunrise,  i  h.;  the  second  ro  m.,  to  Ware,  "  over  hilly,  stony  and  sandy 
roads,  half  of  which  had  to  be  walked,"  required  2  h.;  and  a  stop  of  i  h.  was  made  for  break- 
fast. Readiing  Worcester  at  11.30  a.  m.,  and  halting  i  h.  there  for  dinner,  he  rode  thence 
through  Shrewsbury,  Northboro',  Framingham,  Wellesley,  West  Newton,  Brighton,  and  across 
the  MiUdam  to  Cambridgeport,  at  5.45  p.  m.,  102  m.  "  In  a  half-hour,  with  a  groan,  I  re- 
luctantly mount,  for  the  hardest  23  m.  of  the  day.  Every  musde  protests  vigorously,  but  I 
know  that  this  is  one  of  the  longest  road-rides  in  the  country,  and  I  rejoice  to  sacrifice  my 
musdes  for  the  honor  of  the  dub  which  is  so  far  ahead  of  the  other  colleges  in  long-distance 
riding.  I  disnounted  but  once  during  the  23  m.,  and  reached  the  hotel  in  Framingham  at  8.30 
o'clock.  This  was  the  fastest  spin  of  the  day,  and  during  the  last  10  m.  it  seemed  as  if  I  had 
outridden  and  left  behind  my  musdes ;  for  a  sort  of  numbness  set  in,  and  the  riding  was  merely 
8 


114         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

mechanicaL  I  stayed  in  bed  only  from  ii  till  3.30  o'clock,  and  at  4  a.  m.  resumed  the  ride 
homeward.  My  muscles  were,  if  possible,  stifiEer  and  lamer  than  the  night  before,  but 
began  to  limber  up  a  little  at  Northboro',  whfsre  I  breakfasted  Worcester  was  reached  at  8.30 ; 
Ware  at  a  p.  m.;  the  only  header  of  the  two  days  rewarded  some  reckless  down-hill  riding  near 
Belchertown  ;  thence  a  driving  rain  accompanied  me  to  Amherst  at  6  p.  m.,  80  m.  The  next 
day  I  experienced  no  ill  effects,  and  was  in  better  trim  for  further  riding  than  when  I  started, 
though  I  had  covered  205  m.  within  38  h."  This  is  condensed  from  a  three-column  repmt  in 
Bi.  World  of  April  28,  '82,  p.  298;  and  briefer  accounts  appeared  in  AmAerst  Student  and 
Boston  Herald^  soon  after  the  tour.  His  best  day's  ride,  previous  to  this,  had  been  80  m.  In 
November,  1883,  while  touring  in  the  Harz  Mountains,  he  completed  a  riding  record  of  10,000 
m.,  of  which  a  summary  will  be  presented  in  a  later  chapter;  and  on  June  3,  1884,  between 
midnight  and  11.40  p.  m.,  he  rode  205  m.  (328  kilometers),  back  and  forth  between  Leipsic  and 
Dresden,— though  the  best  previous  day's  road  record  in  Germany  was  300  kilometers. 

The  next  day's  run  of  100  m.  "  out  from  Boston,"  of  which  I  have  found  any  record,  was 
reported  thus  for  C.  A.  Hazleti's  "  Summary  "  {jDuiing^  Feb,  1884,  p.  371) : "  On  Nov.  18,  1883, 
three  members  of  the  SpringfieH  Bicycle  Club,  C.  E.  Whipple,  O.  N.  Whipple  and  F.  W. 
Westervelt,  started  from  the  U.  S.  Armory  at  4.30  a.  m.  For  3^  m.  they  found  good  wheeling ; 
the  next  5  m.  very  sandy,  and  all  took  headers.  From  Wilbraham  to  Palmer  and  West  Warren, 
the  roads  were  fair ;  thence  to  the  Brookfields,  sandy  and  stony.  About  a  m.  out  of  Brookfield 
they  stopped  at  a  farm-house  for  breakfast.  They  found  the  road  good,  but  very  hilly  firara 
Spencer  to  Leicester.  Here  they  were  met  by  Mr.  Lamb,  who  wheeled  to  Worcester  with  them, 
where  they  stopped  \  h.  to  telegraph  home.  Contrary  to  what  had  been  told  them,  they  found 
every  hill  between  Springfield  and  Boston  could  be  coasted  with  safety.  Their  next  and  last 
stop  (i  h.)  was  at  a  farm-house  at  Southboro',  where  they  began  to  realize  what  good  roads  were. 
The  prospect  put  new  life  into  their  tired  limbs,  it  being  the  first  long  run  they  had  ever  taken. 
From  Framingham  they  wheeled  through  Natick,  Newton  Lower  Falls,  Chestnut  Hill  Reservnr, 
to  the  Public  Garden,  Boston,  and  dismounted  in  front  of  Brigham's  restaurant  at  6.45  p.  m." 
A  year  later  (Nov.  9,  '84),  three  other  members  of  the  same  club,  F.  Eldred,  A.  O.  McGarrett 
and  W.  J.  McGarrett,  rode  from  the  city  hall,  Springfield,  to  the  U.  S.  Hotel,  Boston,  in 
14}  h.  (riding  time,  13I  h.),  taking  breakfast  at  Warren,  dinner  at  Worcester  and  supper  at  Bos- 
ton. Four  days  afterwards,  L.  B.  Graves  rode  from  Northampton  to  Boston,  over  a  course  previ- 
ously measured  as  104  m.  by  Butcher  cyclometer,  but  which  was  increased  1  m.  by  a  mistaken 
detoiu-  at  the  end.  From  his  report  in  Wheels  Nov.  28,  '84,  I  extract  the  following  :  "  Start,  4 
A.  M.;  Amherst,  7  m.,  1}  h.;  Belchertown,  10}  m.,  2  h.,  and  stop  z  h.  for  breakfast;  Ware,  10 
m.,  2  h.  Roads  from  N.  to  A.,  first  half  fair,  second  half  poor  and  sandy ;  A.  to  B.,  not  bad, 
though  the  grade  is  steadily  upward ;  B.  to  W.,  the  worst  stretch  of  the  day,  including  plenty  of 
long  hills,  so  rough  and  sandy,  as  hardly  to  allow  riding  on  down  grades.  I  left  W.  at  1 1 
o'clock,  in  company  with  S.  W.  Coe ;  rested  for  dinner  at  the  Massasoit  House,  Spencer,  i  to  a 
p.  M.;  reached  Worcester  at  4,  and  waited  there  till  6,  for  repairs  to  steering-head  of  machine 
(Yale  54  in.);  thence  to  Brighton  at  midnight,  with  one  lamp  to  give  light  for  both  of  us.  Fortu- 
nately the  roads  were  in  very  good  shape,  and  the  only  fall  of  the  entire  trip  was  a  header 
taken  by  my  companion,  when  he  struck  a  high  curbstone  in  the  dark.  Towards  the  end,  we 
went  astray  from  the  proper  track,  to  Roxbury  station,  and  thence  we  jounced  along  the  cobble 
stones  of  Tremont  St.,  instead  of  the  asphalt  of  Columbus  av.,  so  that  it  was  12.50  a.  ic.  when 
we  reached  the  New  Marlboro  Hotel,  and  sat  down  to  a  hasty  supper.  This  was  a  tri6e  less 
than  21  h.  after  the  start  at  N.,  and  my  riding  time  was  just  16  h.  Neither  of  us  had  ridden 
much  during  the  preceding  days,  and  we  both  felt  in  good  condition  the  day  following."  The 
same  paper  of  Oct.  17,  '84,  gave  a  brief  report  of  a  Sunday  ride  from  Orange  to  Boston,  Oct.  5, 
zii  m.,  between  5.30  a.  m.  and  zo.30  p.  m.,  taken  by  C.  H.  Shepard  and  W.  R.  Winchdl, 
of  the  first-named  town.  Their  riding  time  was  14  li.,  and  their  good  condition  at  the  finish  was 
shown  by  the  fact  that  they  next  day  wheeled  55  m.  The  road  from  Orange  to  Fitchburg  was 
far  from  good,  and  they  were  6  h.  in  "  walking  "  the  3a  m.  They  found  fine  wheeling  between 
there  and  Northboro',  and  went  thence  to  Boston  over  the  well-known  route. 


X. 

THE  ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD.^ 

Thk  bicycle  is  an  index  to  the  existence  of  good  roads,  just  as  certainly 
as  the  good  roads  themselves  are  an  index  to  the  existence  of  a  high  degree 
of  civilization  in  the  locality  possessing  them.  There  is  solid  significance, 
therefore,  in  the  fact  that  the  largest  and  most  energetic  bicycle  club  in 
America  is  now  flourishing  in  the  little  inland  city  of  Springfield.  If  the  high- 
ways of  Hampden  County  had  not  been  greatly  improved  from  their  condition 
of  thirty  years  ago,  it  is  hardly  probable  that  the  last  three  years  would  have 
witnessed  the  phenomenon  of  an  increase  in  the  number  of  local  bicyclers 
from  three  to  three  hundred.  The  recent  "  tournament "  may  no  doubt  be 
made  to  teach  various  interesting  "  lessons "  as  to  the  power  of  personal 
energy  and  shrewdly-planned  business  combinations  in  bringing  great  things 
to  pass;  but  its  most  impressive  and  lasting  lesson  ought  to  be  connected 
with  the  fact  that  an  exceptionally  good  series  of  local  roadways  is  the  ulti- 
mate basis  upon  which  the  tournament  itself  really  rested.  Were  the  roads 
of  the  region  as  poor  now  as  in  1850,  Springfield  bicycling  would  not  be 
much  of  a  power  to  conjure  with, — ^would  not  supply  the  machinery  for  creat- 
ing such  a  show  as  that  which  lately  attracted  thousands  of  strangers  to  the  city. 

The  late  Samuel  Bowles,  while  editor  of  the  Springfield  Republican^  in 
his  varied  e£Eorts  to  persuade  the  citizens  to  improve  their  special  local  ad- 
vantages, and  to  improve  upon  them,  took  frequent  occasion  to  direct  their 
notice  to  the  attractiveness  of  the  numerous  roads  in  the  region  round  about, 
and  to  the  comparative  inexpensiveness  of  expanding  these  into  a  connected 
series  of  "  park  drive-ways,"  to  be  used  for  purposes  of  pleasure  and  recrea- 
tion rather  than  for  heavy  business  traffic.  His  plans  for  thus  easily  ensur- 
ing some  excellent  "  breathing-places  "  around  a  city  whose  lack  of  a  central 
park  could  only  be  met  by  an  enormous  expenditure  of  money,  always  seemed 
to  me  eminently  practicable  as  well  as  admirable ;  and  I  still  hope  that,  in 
the  course  of  a  few  years  more,  when  a  thousand  or  so  of  Springfield's  citi- 
zens shall  have  become  regular  riders  of  the  wheel,  these  same  plans  may 
be  realized.  The  men  who  drive  horses  may  not  always  greatly  love  the  men 
who  drive  wheels  (though,  of  the  numberless  things  which  "  frighten  horses," 
it  would  be  hard  to  name  one  which  causes  fright  less  frequently  than  the 
bicycle),  but  they  always  do  have  a  great  liking  for  good  roads ;  and  they 
ought  clearly  to  see  not  only  that  good  roads  will  develop  bicycling  in  any 
given  locality,  but  that  the  increase  of  bicyclers  there  will  tend  to  make  the 

iFrom  The  Wheelman^  December,  1883,  pp.  186-193. 


ii6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

good  roads  better  and  more  numerous.  In  like  manner,  this  present  minute 
report  of  my  personal  observations  on  the  roads  of  Hampden  County  which 
are  most  practicable  for  bicycling,  though  designed  chiefly  as  a  guide  for  the 
benefit  of  visiting  wheelmen,  will  serve  also  to  assure  other  strangers  that  the 
environs  of  Springfield  may  be  readily  explored  by  any  sort  of  pleasure- 
carriage.  Old  residents,  too,  may,  j>erhaps,  be  interested  in  reading  of  well- 
known  paths  as  related  to  the  new  mode  of  locomotion,  and  the  description 
may  possibly  even  recall  to  their  minds  some  agreeable  combinations  of 
routes  for  their  own  afternoon  drives. 

In  pushing  my  bicycle  a  distance  of  8,000  m.,  I  have  made  trial  of  about 
4,000  distinct  miles  of  roadway,  situated  in  fifteen  separate  States  of  the  Union, 
and  in  Canada,  New  Brunswick,  Nova  Scotia,  and  the  islands  beyond ;  bat  in 
this  somewhat  extended  experience  I  have  never  found  another  town  of 
which  it  can  be  said,  as  of  Springfield,  that  a  bicycler,  starting  at  its  central 
square  or  city  hall,  can  ride  without  dismount  for  eight  or  ten  miles  towards 
all  four  points  of  the  compass, — north,  south,  east,  and  west  The  streets  of 
the  nation's  capital  city  are  incomparably  the  cleanest  and  best  paved  ones  to 
be  anywhere  found  upon  the  North  American  continent ;  but  when  a  Wash- 
ington wheelman  gets  beyond  the  limits  of  the  municipal  asphalt,  his  choice 
of  routes  for  a  comfortable  afternoon's  ride  becomes  extremely  limited.  The 
New  Yorker  has,  within  easy  reach, — north,  south,  east,  and  west  of  lus 
beloved  Manhattan  Island, — ^finer  and  more  extensive  macadamized  roadways 
than  any  which  Western  Massachusetts  can  boast  of ;  but  the  four  series  of 
roads  are  disconnected  by  water  from  each  other,  as  well  as  from  the  island, 
though  many  miles  of  good  riding  may  be  had  on  the  northern  part  of  the 
island  itself.  The  State  House  at  Boston  stands  on  a  hill  beside  the  sea,  but 
though  the  man  who  mounts  its  glistening  dome  beholds  much  water,  he  also 
overlooks  a  territory  possessed  of  a  larger  "  mileage  "  of  smooth,  hard  road- 
way than  exists  elsewhere  in  any  such  small  area  of  the  New  World.  The 
entire  suburban  region,  within  a  radius  of  15  m.  or  so,  is  cut  up  by  a  network 
of  roads  which  are  almost  all  excellently  macadamized,  so  that  a  bicycler  may 
ride  long  distances  without  the  necessity  of  dismounting  or  of  frequently  re- 
peating his  course.  The  rolling  country  around  Boston  does,  indeed,  justify 
the  laudations  of  its  friends  who  extol  it  as  "  the  paradise  of  American  wheel- 
men." We  have  nothing  elsewhere  to  equal  it,  or  to  be  easily  comparable  to 
it.  The  region  that  ranks  next  to  it  in  attractiveness  must  be  "  next  by  a 
very  long  interval  " ;  but,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief,  that  rank 
may  fairly  be  assigned  to  the  region  around  Springfield.  Outside  the  Boston 
suburbs,  I  think  there  is  no  other  place  but  this  where  the  bicycle  may  be 
driven  so  far  in  so  many  directions  without  stop,  and  where  such  extensive 
and  pleasant  routes,  which  involve  no  repetitions,  may  be  so  easily  laid  out. 

"  Purgatory,"  rather  than  "  Paradise,"  however,  would  be  a  visiting  bi- 
cycler's designation  of  that  section  of  the  city's  chief  thoroughfare  on  which 
he  first  tries  his  wheel  when  he  emerges  from  the  eastern  portal  of  the  rail- 


ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD.  1 1 7 

road  station,  for  this  is  just  about  at  the  middle  of  that  busiest  mile  of  Main 
St..  where  the  macadam  has  been  worn  into  ruts,  and  holes,  and  ridges ;  where 
it  is  kept  almost  continuously  muddy  by  regular  watering-carts  or  casual 
showers,  and  where  every  one  of  the  cross*walks  causes  a  tremendous  jolt 
This  mile  section  of  roadway,  which  stands  in  such  crying  need  of  a  new  top- 
dressing  of  povrdered  stone,  extends  from  Memorial  Church,  on  the  north 
(where  the  cyder  turns  to  the  left  in  seeking  the  northern  entrance  to  the 
camp  on  Hampden  Park,  or  the  West  Springfield  route  to  Holyoke),  to  State 
St.,  on  the  south,  which  thoroughfare  leads  eastward  up  the  Armory  Hill,  and 
is  the  old  post  road  to  Boston.  The  horse-car  tracks  run  along  it  for  a 
mile  and  a  half,  and,  though  the  first  half  of  this  distance  is  up-grade,  it  is 
macadamized  smoothly  enough  to  be  ridable  for  a  bicycle.  At  the  fork, 
where  the  horse-car  tracks  end,  the  left  road  should  be  taken,  and  again  the 
left  into  the  woods,  at  the  next  fork,  2}  m.  beyond.  Thence  the  course  ex- 
tends 4  m.  in  a  pretty  direct  northeasterly  line  across  the  plain,  after  which  a 
choice  of  several  streets  is  offered  in  descending  to  the  hotel  in  the  manufact- 
uring village  of  Indian  Orchard.  The  hill  to  the  eastward  may  be  easily 
ridden  up,  and  the  rider  soon  crosses  the  Chicopee  river,  at  the  Jenksville 
bridge,  beyond  which  he  can-  proceed  on  the  sidewalks  for  \  m.  or  more  to- 
wards Three  Rivers  before  being  forced  to  halt.  This  point,  where  he  stops, 
is  upwards  of  9  m.  from  the  City  Hall  in  Springfield,  and  marks  the  eastern- 
most limit  of  good  riding.  The  whole  distance  may  be  done  without  dis- 
mounting, though  at  many  seasons  of  the  year  an  average  rider  would  be  un- 
likely to  get  across  the  sand  plain  without  once  or  twice  leaving  the  saddle. 
On  the  last  Thursday  of  last  December,  when  the  sand  was  well  packed  to- 
gether with  frost  and  ice,  I  myself  rode  without  stop  from  the  west  end  of 
the  South  bridge,  which  is  i^  m.  below  the  corner  of  Main  and  State  sts.,  to 
the  hotel  in  Indian  Orchard.  The  time  was  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  and  the 
cyclometer  recorded  the  distance  as  exactly  8  m.  Its  record  between  Jenks* 
ville  and  West  Brookfield  is  24  m.,  by  either  one  of  two  routes,  both  of 
which  are  veir  poor,  and  necessitate  much  walking  through  the  sand.  The 
route  which  I  recommend  as  preferable  leads  through  Three  Rivers,  Thorn- 
dike,  and  Ware  ;  while  the  one  usually  taken  by  tourists  leads  through  North 
Wilbraham,  Palmer,  West  Brimfield,  and  Warren.  The  point  of  separation 
is  at  the  Jenksville  bridge.  Where  the  itian  bound  for  Palmer  turns  to  the 
right,  instead  of  crossing  the  river ;  and  the  two  routes  come  together  again 
at  the  pond,  which  lies  a  mile  to  the  west  of  the  hotel  in  West  Brookfield. 
From  that  point  to  Worcester  and  Boston  the  roads  are  almost  continuously 
ridable,  and  they  generally  supply  very  good  riding.  The  best  route  from 
Worcester  to  Boston  is  through  Shrewsbury,  Northboro*,  and  Framingham. 

The  northward  ride  from  Springfield  is  the  smoothest  and  prettiest  one, 
however,  and  usually  ends  at  the  Holyoke  House,  9  m.  from  the  City  Hall. 
The  up-grades  are  few,  and  easily  ridden  in  either  direction,  and  there  is 
nothing  to  prevent  the  veriest  tyro  from  doing  the  whole  distance  without 


ii8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

dismount,  except  occasional  repairs  to  the  road-bed.  This  consists  for  the 
most  part  of  reddish  gravel,  containing  clay  enough  to  pack  it  firmly  together ; 
and,  though  liable  to  be  badly  affected  by  the  spring  frosts  or  by  long-con- 
tinued 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  its  average  smoothness  is  shown  by  the  record  of  time  made  therein,— 38 
min.  The  tourist  from  Springfield  should  turn  left  from  Main  st.  at  the  gray 
stone  church,  where  the  double-track  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  Holyoke.  He  should  not  turn  towards  the  river,  however,  at 
the  two  places  in  the  road  where  signs  point  eastward  to  Chicopee.  From 
the  Holyoke  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  Holyoke  House.  There  are  excellent  views  along  this  course, 
and  I  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  2  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  2  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  touring  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  2  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  2  m.  to  Gates's  hill.  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 Ingleside,  6  ra.  from  the  Springfield  bridge.  The  mile  between  the 
trough  and  Gates's  is  rather  difficult  for  one  going  northward,  and,  though  I 
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  SPRINGFIELD. 


119 


that  from  the  smoother  road  below,  and  a  northward  descent  into  the  latter 
may  be  made  by  the  tourist  who  does  not  care  to  turn  under  the  railway 
track  towards  Gate8*s. 

My  recollection  as  a  pedestrian  of  twenty  years  ago  is  that  the  main  road 
{rom  Easthampton  to  Northampton,  5  m.,  would  be  practicable  for  a  bicycle  ; 
and  other  wheelmen  have  told  me  that  the  meadow  road,  from  Mount  Tom 
station  to  Northampton,  is  for  the  most  part  ridable,  and  that  they  had  little 
difficulty  in  proceeding  thence  through  Hatfield  and  Whately  to  Deerfield. 
The  route  of  my  own  first  ride  up  the  valley  was  less  wisely  chosen,  how- 
ever, for  I  was  forced  to  walk  through  3  m.  of  sand  before  reaching  Hatfield, 
and  another  mile  of  the  same  after  leaving  it.  My  advice  to  tourists,  there- 
fore, is  to  take  the  train  from  Smith's  Ferry  to  North  Hatfield,  as  I  have  done 
on  subsequent  occasions.  From  that  point  to  South  Deerfield  the  distance 
by  the  **  east  road  "  is  6  m.,  and  by  the  "  west  road  "  only  about  three-quar- 
ters as  far,  though  I  have  found  the  former  to  be  preferable.  Thence  one 
may  go  most  pleasantly  without  dismount  for  7  m.  or  more  to  the  Cheapside 
bridge,  below  Greenfield;  and  the  road  continues  good  to  Bemardston, 
Brattleboro,  and  Putney.  The  distance  to  that  point  from  Springfield,  omit- 
ting the  short  railroad  ride  indicated,  is  56  m.,  and  I  have  wheeled  it,  with- 
out special  effort,  in  a  single  day.  On  the  following  forenoon  I  occupied 
three  hours  and  a  half  in  slccomplishing  the  next  14  m.  to  Bellows  Falls, 
where  I  took  train  over  the  mountain  to  Rutland,  and  wheeled  thence  west- 
ward to  Whitehall,  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  a  distance  of  25  m., 
whereof  the  first  two-thirds  supplied  most  excellent  riding.* 

1  According  to  the  report  of  L.  B.  Graves  (League  consul  at  Northampton,  Feb.,  18S4),  the 
rood  leading  to  WtUianuburg,  9  m.,  n.  w.,  is  a  fairly  good  one,  so  that,  on  the  return  journey,  it 
is  sometimes  possible  to  gel  over  it  without  a  dismount.  The  distance  has  often  been  covered 
^  an  hour.  FoUowing  the  hor8e<ar  tracks  along  Elm  sL,  up>hill  from  the  Mansion  House, 
and  generally  using  the  sidewalk,  as  the  roadway  is  somewhat  sandy  and  stony,  the  rider  will 
reach  the  village  of  Florence,  about  2\  m.,  where  he  should  turn  to  the  left  of  Cosmian  Hall, 
aad  take  the  second  road,  to  the  school  house ;  then  turn  to  the  right  and  descend  a  hill,  cross  a 
bridge,  turn  to  the  r^ht  again  and  follow  what  is  called  the  old  river  road  directly  to  Leeds 
(4  m.),  crossing  the  river  on  the  way.  Uaydenville  (|  ol),  is  reached  by  crossing  the  railroad 
trade,  turning  up>hill  to  left,  and  again  turning  left  ^  m.  beyond.  Thus  far  the  side-paths  gen- 
erally supply  the  best  riding,  but  from  here  to  Williamsbuig,  a  m.,  the  main  road  is  good 
enough  to  be  often  traversed  by  moonlight.  Good  coasting  is  offered  between  Florence  and 
Northampton  on  the  return.  At  Haydenville,  the  tourist  may  take  the  Horse  Mountain  road 
(which  is  fairly  good,  with  some  steep  hills  that  must  be  ridden  carefully)  to  Whately,  4  m.,  and 
thesoe  a  nther  inferior  cross-road,  through  woods  and  swamps,  to  South  Deerfield,  a  m.,  where 
he  will  meet  the  reguhr  valley  turnpike  leading  from  Northampton  to  Greenfield.  This  round- 
about course  between  these  two  county  seats  is  said  to  be  pleasanter  than  the  direct  route 
thrmgh  the  sands  of  Hatfield.  Turning  to  the  right,  near  the  Briggs  House  in  Haydenville, 
^  tourist  shoald  turn  left  at  the  fork,  and  keep  on  near  a  brook  in  a  valley ;  then  turn  left 
It  nat  cross-roads,  and  after  passing  through  Whately,  take  the  right  at  the  fork.  The  Hock- 
aaom  road,  s.  e.  from  Northampton,  about  a  ro.,  to  the  hamlet  of  that  name  just  after  crossing 
tW  Connecticut  river  ferry,  is  usually  sandy ;  but  the  next  3  or  4  m.,  ending  at  South  Hadley, 
vc  better,  though  somewhat  hilly  towards  the  end.    The  tourist  should  keep  along  in  sight  of 


120  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  2  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 

river  for  about  2  m.,  then  turn  to  r.  at  cross-roads  and  go  direct  to  South  Hadley,  whtda  is  tiie 
seat  of  the  well-known  Mt.  Holyoke  Female  Seminary.  There  he  may  either  turn  w.,  and 
cross  the  river  at  Smith's  Ferry,  or  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  vi«t  Mt.  Holyoke,  where  a  fine  view  may  be  had.  The  mouatain 
road  is  unsafe  for  bicycling,  however,  and  the  last  few  hundred  feet  of  the  ascent  must  be  made 
by  railway  car  or  staur-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  Rodcy-HiU  pond ;  cross  die  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  Easthampt(»i, 
whose  concrete  sidewalks  supply  good  riding.  The  road  thidier  is  rather  hilly  and  sandy  and  is 
at  its  best  soon  after  a  summer  shower.  The  road  s.  from  Northampton  through  tlve  meadows 
to  the  Ox  Bow  (Mt  Tom  station)  is  also  apt  to  be  soft,  so  that,  in  the  eariy  spring  and  late 
autumn,  the  railroad  track,  to  whidi  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  village,  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  readiing  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  op  it,  Sept  i6,  1884,  as  the  final  act  in  a  tiresome  day's  journey  of  40  m., 
across  the  hills  from  Lee,  ending  thus  a  five  days'  toar  from  Newark,  by  way  of  Newburg  and 
Poughkeepsie,  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  bad  2^  m.  of  good  wheeling, 
to  a  big  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.  thence  to  the  end  of  Franklin  St.,  I  was  3^  h.  in  reaching  that 
point;  and  I  do  not  believe  the  joomey  from  Westfield  towards  Lee  would  be  any  easierj*  An- 
other touiist,  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 
avoiding  Pittsfield,  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- 
ton,  6^  m.  A  few  miles  farther  on,  the  road  becomes  even  worse,  soon  tvuning  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 
Washhigton  and  reached  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  sharp  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.  Jy.,  Sept.  3,  '81)  gave  similar  testimony :  "  Beyond  Pittsfield,  a  veritable  via  mala  begins, 
and  hardly  ceases  for  the  40  m.  thence  to  Westfield.  To  the  summit  of  the  mountain  in  North 
Becket  (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  horee  from  Springfield  to  Peru  (is  ra.  from  Pittsfield,— 
Dalton  and  Hinsdale  being  intermediate  towns),  a  distance  of  4s  m.,  in  6|  h.,  and  has  made  the 
return  drive  in  5^  h.,— passing  through  Russell,  Huntington  and  West  Worthington.  The  same 
rapid  animal  has  also  drawn  him  to  the  same  point  by  a  loiter  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  "  {Ovimg,  March,  1884,  p.  454),  thus  :  "  On  Sept.  19,  William  V. 
Mason,  jr.,  of  the  Rhode  Island  Bicycle  Club,  made  a  run  of  100  m.,  from  Springfield  to  Hudson, 
by  way  of  Russell ;  and  he  returned,  Oct  is,  from  Hudson  to  Springfield,  by  way  of  Chester, 
113  ra.  He  reports  the  roads  in  fair  condition,  and  the  weather  on  both  runs  all  that  could  be 
Mked.  Bofh  runs  were  made  alone,  and  no  special  training  had.  He  was  in  fine  condition  at 
the  finish  of  both  runs.  Several  headers  taken,  but  none  of  any  serious  account."  Additional 
details  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,  rei^uires  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.  Ibng ;  and  the  whole  circuit  may  be  made  in  either  direction  without  stop. 
The   southward   route   from   Springfield  crosses   the   iron   bridge  into 
Agawam,  about  \\  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  Sufiield ;  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 

lOo  Dec.  4,  1884,  I  rode  from  West  Spriogfield  until  stopped  by  the  newly-laid  stones  of  the 
railway-crossing  below  Windsor  Locks  (i6|  m.  in  a  h.  40  min.),  except  that  I  was  foitxd  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  sUrt  and  4  m.  south  6f  Porter's.  From  the  crossing  I  went  without  stop 
to  the  highest  water-course  of  the  long  Windsor  hill  (5^  m.  in  50  min.),  which  I  never  before  so 
nearly  succeeded  in  conquering. 


ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD, 


123 


has  wheeled  up  to  this  point  without  stop  (13  m.)»  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  w&eeled  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  h!Il  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 


124         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Springfield  or  the  one  at  Holyoke,  but  is  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  Chicopee  Falls  are  not  particii- 
larly  bad,  but  their  numerous  concrete  sidewalks  supply  much  pleasanter 
riding,  and  the  curbings  are  not  usually  abrupt.  The  town  hall  in  Chicopee 
stands  f  m.  from  the  bridge,  and  the  approach  thereto,  along  the  left-hand 
sidewalk  of  Exchange  St.,  is  uninterrupted.  There  is  no  need  of  a  stop  in 
crossing  the  road  in  front  of  it  to  the  concrete  walk  leading  up-hill  to  the 
bridge  at  Chicopee  Falls,  about  2  m.  I  myself,  on  the  25th  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  beginning  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  bc^ 
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  hall,  distant  4  m.,  is  called 
Chicopee  Street,  and  is  entirely  level,  but  is  believed  to  be  too  soft  for  bi- 
cycling. In  the  other  direction,  for  2  m.  along  the  riverside  north  of  Willi- 
mansett, I  found  this  road  to  be  ridable,  except  a  few  short  pitches,  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  return  may  be  made  to  Spring- 
field over  the  well-known  course.  From  the  town  hall  in  Chicopee  to  the 
Memorial  Church,  3^  m.,  one  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  Indian  Orchard  is  about  5  m.  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-car  tracks,  supplies  good  riding  for  2  m.  or 
so  in  the  direction  of  Sixteen  Acres ;  and  Walnut  St.,  which  branches  south- 
ward from  State  at  the  corner  of  the  Armory  grounds,  may  likewise  l?e  easily 
followed  for  \\  m.,  to  the  water-shops,  and  twice  that  distance  beyond  into 
the  region  of  East  Longmeadow,  whence  it  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  may  also  be  made  by  follow- 
ing the  horse-car  tracks  through  Central,  Maple,  and  State  sts.  back  to  Main, 
mostly  on  a  down  grade ;  or,  if  the  cemetery  be  visited.  Pine  st.  may  be 
traversed  thence  to  Crescent  Hill,  where  a  fine  view  may  be  enjoyed,  and  a 
winding  descent  be  made  thence  to  the  region  of  South  Main  st.  The  steep 
slope  of  Ames's  Hill,  leading  into  Maple  St.,  should  be  descended  with  cau- 
tion ;  and  the  south  sidewalk  of  Union  st.  should  be  taken  by  hill-climbers, 


ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD. 


"5 


as  tltey  approach  the  smnmit,  or  they  will  be  unlikely  to  reach  the  summit. 
VisitiAg  bicyclers  should  remember  that  the  most  commanding  view  of  the 
whole  Springfield  region  may  be  had  from  the  tower  of  the  United  States 
Arsenal,  and,  also,  that  the  smooth  roads  and  walks  within  the  government 
grounds  are  guarded  by  government  muskets  against  the  passage  of  bicycles. 
An  tnapectton  of  the  roads  as  outlined  on  the  county  maps  may  doubt- 
less suggest  the  exploration  of  other  attractive  bicycle  routes  in  this  region ; 
but  the  ones  described  in  this  present  report  are  certainly  numerous  enough 
to  sustain  my  opening  assertion  that  the  region  is^  exceptionally  well  adapted 
for  bicycling.     Without  going  outside  these  roads,  and  without  repeating  his 
course  upon  them,  a  rider  who  starts  at  the  city  hall  may  lay  out  pleasant 
round-trip  routes  of  any  desired  length.    Thus,  up  the  east  side  of  the  river, 
through  Chicopee  Falls  and  Willimansett  to  Holyoke  and  down  the  west 
side,  through  the  old  bridge  and  Water  st.  to  the  starting-point,  supplies  21 
m.,  without  a  rod  of  repetition.    This  may  be  increased  at  will  to  38,  29  or 
JO  m.,  by  taking  one  of  the  westward  and  southward  routes  through  Aga- 
warn  to  Porter's  distillery,  and  there  turning  back  northward  by  the  river 
road  to  the  starting-point.     Or  a  rider  may  continue  down  the  west  bank  and 
aoss  the  river  for  the  return  journey  at  Thompsonville,  or  Enfield,  or  Wind- 
sor Locks,  or  Hartford,  in  which  latter  case  his  circuit  will  be  about  75  m. 
long.    The  west-side  route  to  the  Holyoke  House,  thence  westward  to  Ire- 
laud  Parish,  southward  to  Ingleside,  eastward  to  Chicopee,  and  homeward 
through  Carew,  Chestnut,  and  Dwight  sts.,  offers  a  circuit  of  about  22  m., 
with  hardly  more  than  a  mile  of  repetition ;  and  a  very  skilful  rider  might, 
perhaps,  do  the  whole  distance  without  a  stop.    The  simpler  Chicopee  cir* 
cuit,  ridden  in  the  same  direction,  may  be  easily  done  without  dismount, 
whether  restricted  to  10  m.  or  increased  to  12 ;  or  it  may  be  increased  to  17 
by  the  addition  of  Chicopee  Falls  and  Indian  Orchard  on  the  east      A  west- 
ward circuit  of  7  or  8  m.,  involving  no  repetitions — and,  in  the  case  of  a 
good  rider,  no  dismounts  in  either  direction — may  be  made  from  the  old 
bridge  to  Agawam  bridge,  to  Mittineague  bridge,  to  the  West  Springfield 
post-office,  to  the  church  on  the  hill,  and  thence  northward  or  eastward  down 
to  the  river-road  leading  back  to  the  North  bridge  and  the  city  hall.    If  this 
route  be  continued  northward  from  the  church  to  Chicopee,  a  man  may  keep 
his  saddle  for  15  or  16  m.  before  reaching  the  starting-point;  and  the  length 
oC  the  Holyoke  and  Indian  Orchard  circuits  can,  of  course,  be  increased  by 
combination  with  this  route.    Assuming  the  ridable  character  of  the  roads 
(as  yet  unexplored  by  me)  connecting  Westfield  with  Southwick,  and  with 
Feeding  Hills,  a  Springfield  cycler  has  choice  of  a  32  m.  or  a  22-m.  circuit  in 
visiting  the  former  village.     Equally  long  southwestern  circuits  may  be  made 
horn  Springfield  to  Southwick  ponds,  Simsbury,  and  Suffield,  —  the  shorter 
one  leading  thence  up  the  west  bank  of  the  river  j  the  longer  one  extending 
across  Enfield  bridge  and  thence  through  East  Longmeadow  to  the  water- 
shops  and  the  city  halL 


126  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

The  route  by  which  a  rider  may,  without  dismount,  reach  the  top  of  the 
church  hill  in  West  Springfield,  from  a  point  lo  m.  to  the  southwest,  has  al- 
ready been  described ;  but  there  will  then  be  no  obstacle  to  his  easy  progress 
to  the  Holyoke  House,  7  m.  further,  and  for  another  mile  to  the  south  end  of 
the  concrete  sidewalk  in  South  Hadley  Falls,  making  18  m.  straightaway 
without  stop.  Or,  if  he  were  strong  enough  to  climb  westward  from  the 
Holyoke  House  and  surmount  the  Ewingsville  hill,  he  might  even  cover  21 
direct  miles  of  roadway  before  the  sands  below  Smith's  Ferry  forced  a  halt. 
From  the  church  hill  in  West  Springfield  northeastward  to  the  town  hall  in 
Chicopee,  and  thence  southward  to  the  bridge  below  Springfield,  a  distance 
of  10  m.,  no  obstacle  exists  to  cause  a  dismount ;  and  as  it  is  sometimes 
possible  to  continue  thence  3  m.  to  Porter's  distillery  and  7  m.  to  the  covered 
bridge,  a  lucky  rider  might  chance  to  do  the  30  m.  without  stop,  though  he 
would  finish  at  a  point  hardly  a  dozen  miles  distant  from  the  point  of  start- 
ing.  Still  a  third  variation  of  this  route,  for  a  long  stay  in  the  saddle,  would 
lead  through  Feeding  Hills,  West  Springfield,  Chicopee,  Springfield,  and 
Indian  Orchard,  to  Jenksville.  The  distance  is  27  m.,  and  the  chance  of  com- 
pleting it  without  stop  is  better  than  in  the  case  of  the  30-m.  and  21-m.  routes. 

I  should  be  glad  to  see  the  competitions  of  the  local  club  take  the  form 
of  road  races,  wherein  the  victory  should  be  given  not  to  the  fastest  rider, 
but  to  the  one  who  covered  the  most  miles  of  roadway  without  leaving  his 
saddle  or  repeating  his  course.  The  effect  of  such  contests  would  be  to  fix 
public  attention  upon  the  fact  that  the  region  has  such  an  unusually  large 
proportion  of  good  roads  as  to  make  it  an  attractive  place  for  bicyclers  to 
visit  and  explore  individually,  and  an  appropriate  place  for  the  race-course 
and  camp-ground,  which  may  be  annually  made  the  scene  of  their  largest  col- 
lective gatherings  and  exhibitions.  Yet,  the  proportion  of  good  roads  ought 
to  be  still  larger,  and  the  quality  of  the  best  of  them  ought  to  be  still  better. 
Let  us  hope  that  the  ultimate  influence  of  the  "  tournament "  will  be  in  the  line 
of  helping  bring  to  pass  both  of  these  desirable  things. 

"  The  Atlas  of  Hampden  County  "  (N.  Y. ;  J.  B.  Beers  &  Co.,  36  Vesey  St.,  1874,  pp.  70, 
price  1 10)  has  proved  of  service  in  the  preparation  of  this  chapter.  Wall  maps  of  Springfield 
and  Westfield  (j^  each)  are  also  issued  by  the  same  publishers.  G.  H.  Walker  &  Co.,  160 
Tremont  St.,  Boston,  publish  pocket  maps  of  "  Hampshire  and  Hampden  "  (X8S4,  38  by  aa  in.) 
and  "  Franklin  County  "  (1885, 28  by  18  in.),  whose  scale,  t^  m.  to  x  inch,  and  price,  asc,  oi^ht 
to  attract  the  patronage  of  bicyclers.  These,  and  the  excellent  map  of  "the  Berkshire  Hilk," 
which  is  distributed  gratis  by  the  Berkshire  Life  Insurance  Company,  of  Pittsfield,  are  de- 
scribed more  fully  on  p.  112.  A  small  map  of  the  city  may  be  found  in  the  Springfield  Directoiy, 
which  can  be  consulted  at  any  drug-store;  and  the  same  map  is  appended  to  King's  "  Hand- 
book of  Springfield,"  an  autliority  for  those  who  wish  to  go  into  the  details  of  local  history  and 
institutions.  The  Springfield  City  Library,  in  a  handsome  building  on  State  St.,  ocmtains 
50,000  volumes,  which  may  be  freely  consulted ;  and  there  also,  in  a  finely  funiished  readii^ 
room,  the  visitor  may  without  charge  examine  all  the  newspapers  and  periodicals  of  the  day. 

*'  Handbook  "  is  a  rather  deceptive  title  for  the  volume  just  alluded  to,  which  is  an  octavo  of 
394  pp.,  8^  by  6  in.  in  size,  containing  more  than  150  views  and  portraits,  with  indexes  of  2,700 
references.    lu  sub-title,  "  a  series  of  monographs,  historical  and  descriptive,  edited  by  Moses 


ENVIRONS  OF  SPRINGFIELD,  127 

King,**  gives  a  better  idea  of  ito  importance,  for  it  is,  as  the  preface  says,  **  the  most  pretentious 
work  ol  its  kind  yet  issued  for  any  American  city  of  35,000  population."  It  was  published  in 
October,  1884,  by  James  D.  Gill,  at  the  subscription  price  of  $1.50,  which  was  afterwards  in- 
creased to  $3  ;  but  a  "  clearing  out  sale  "  in  May,  1885,  caused  its  reduction  to  $1,  which  seems 
remarkably  cheap  for  such  a  laige  and  expensively-aude  book.  Its  price  is  likely  to  be  ad- 
ipanoed  again  to  $1.50,  however,  as  soon  as  the  edition  is  nearly  exhausted.  The  32  chapters,  or 
"  monographs,'*  represent  the  wOTk  of  as  many  different  citizens ;  and  the  three  entitled  ''  Sur- 
roundings of  Springfield"  (Rev.  J.  W.  Harding),  "  Highways  and  Byways"  (Heman  Smith) 
and  "Traffic  and  Transportation"  (M.  F.  Sweetser),  covering  pp.  51-92,  are  q>ecial]y  recom- 
mended to  the  study  of  wheelmen.  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  assuring  them,  on  the 
anthority  of  the  first-named  writer,  that  my  native  town,  during  the  eighteenth  century,  "  ex- 
ceeded Springfield  in  population  by  about  800,  and  was,  indeed,  in  most  respects,  ^he  leading 
town  in  Western  Massachusetts.  At  the  east  end  of  its  old  conunon,  where  now  stands  the 
abutment  of  the  Kght  and  spacious  North-end  Bridge  (said  to  be  the  noblest  highway  structure 
in  the  country),  there  was  a  ship-yard,  in  which  were  built  the  sloops  '  West  Springfield  *  and 
'  Hampshire'  and  the  schooner  'Trial/  ranging  from  60  to  90  tons  burthen.  The  common 
itself  v^aa  the  camping-ground  of  two  British  armies.  Gen.  Amherst,  with  7,000  men,  halted 
here  for  two  days  and  two  nights,  on  his  march  to  Canada ;  and  the  captured  army  of  Gei^.  Bor- 
goyne  was  encamped  on  the  same  spot  for  a  similar  time,  while  on  the  way  to  Boston,— ^when 
Gen.  Reidesel,  the  Hessian  officer,  was  the  guest  of  Parson  Lathrop.  Here,  too,  Capt.  Luke 
Day  drilled  his  insurgents  in  '  Shays's  Rebellion.'  "  The  marks  of  the  bullets  with  which  Gen. 
Lincdn's  troops  dispersed  those  rioters,  in  January,  1787,  may  still  be  seen  upon,  the  quaint  stone 
monufloent,  on  State  St.,  Springfield,  just  beyond  the  s.  e.  comer  of  the  Armory  grounds,  where 
it  has  stood  since  1763,  to  point  the  way  to  Boston.  Another  historic  landmark  which  deserves 
notice  from  the  sentimental  tourist  is  the  great  elm  in  the  s.  e.  comer  of  Court  Square,  which 
gave  shade,  a  century  ago,  to  the  "  huge  wooden  tavern  "  where  Zenas  Parsons  offered  lodging 
to  Washington  (Oct.  ax,  1789);  and  the  old  house  itself  still  stands,  near  the  w.  terminus  of 
Court  St.  The  present  main  highway  eastward  through  the  State  was  formerly  called  the  Bay 
Path  (£  e.f  the  path  to  Boston,  on  the  bay) ;  and  the  hap-hazard  manner  in  which  all  the  other 
Springfield  streets  were  laid  out  and  named,  is  recorded  by  Heman  Smith  in  a  way  that  presents 
an  amusing  contrast  to  the  "  half-mile  square  "  regularity  which  governed  the  New  Haven 
foonders  of  the  same  period,  as  I  record  on  p.  132.  Charts  of  Springfield  in  1827  and  1883  ac- 
company this  chapter,  and  the  "  Directory  "  map  of  it  in  1884  (19  by  17  in.,  i}  m.  to  i  in.,  colored 
by  precincts,)  is  appended  to  the  vohune.  My  last  sxtract  from  its  text  shall  be  the  following  re- 
marks made  by  President  Dwight,  of  Yale,  concerning  his  "  travels  "  in  1803  :  "The  roads  of 
the  Connecticut  Valley  were  generally  good  throughout  a  great  extent.  Hence  the  inhabitants 
were  allured  to  an  unusually  extensive  intercourse  with  each  other ;  and  a  multitude  of  stran- 
gers have  at  all  times  been  induced  to  make  this  valley  the  scene  of  their  pleasurable  traveling." 

In  the  road-race  of  the  Northampton  Bicycle  Club  (Oct.  35,  '84),  the  route  was  from  the 
oor.  Main  and  South  sts.,  in  that  town,  down  Maple  St.,  by  meadow  road  parallel  to  railway, 
which  was  crossed  at  Mt.  Tom  station,  and  so,  past  Smith's  Ferry,  direct  to  west  end  of  North 
bridge  at  Springfield ;  whence  a  return  was  made  on  the  same  track  to  the  starting  point. 
Whole  distance,  by  Butcher  cyclometer,  33^  m.  Race  was  started  at  10.15  a.  m.,  and  was  won 
by  E.  E.  Davis,  in  3  h.  26^  min.;  C.  H.  Howard,  second,  by  23  min.;  W.  L.  Larkin,  third,  by 
6|  min.;  L.  L.  Campbell,  fourth.  The  men  were  started  10  min.  apart,  and  at  the  bridge  the 
two  first  named  (first  and  second  starters)  were  just  lo  min.  apart ;  while  Campbell  (third)  had 
gained  2  im'n.  on  them  and  Larkin  (fourth)  had  gained  i  min.  on  Campbell.  The  latter  rode 
slowly  (m  returning,  because  of  a  cramp  in  the  arm.  The  only  rests  taken  were  at  the  bridge ; 
and  the  only  places  where  much  walking  was  enforced  were  the  sandy  stretches  near  Smith's 
Ferry,  and  the  up-grade  of  the  long  hill,  about  2  m.  below  there.  This  seems  to  me  a  remarkably 
swift  race,  considering  the  character  of  the  track ;  and  I  regret  that  no  record  was  kept  of  the 
dme  reqtiired  to  cover  the  worst  part  of  it, — ^between  the  hill  just  named  and  Northampton. 

The  course  of  the  longest  straightaway  day's  ride  yet  taken  in  America  (July  8,  '84)  led 


128  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

tbroagh  "  Springfield  and  its  environs '' ;  and  a  report  o£  it  may,  therefore,  be  appropriatdy  ap- 
pended to  the  present  chapter.  The  rider  was  a  member  of  the  Meriden  Wheel  Qub,  William 
Collins  (b.  August  37,  1853),  whose  record  for  the  year  was  2,700  m.  on  a  52-in.  Expert,  "  the 
actual  running  expenses  of  which  for  3,500  m.  were  less  than  |(i,  oil  included."  He  began 
riding  in  the  spring  of  '83,  but  kept  no  record  for  first  two  seasons.  Leaving  Meriden  at  mid- 
night, carrying  Excelsior  cyclometer  but  no  lantern,  though  the  moon  was  obscured  by  clouds, 
he  went  through  Berlin  Center  and  New  Britain  to  Hartford,  at  3.45,  where  he  crossed  the  river 
and  took  the  east  side  route  to  Springfield  (48  m.),'at  6.15  a.  m.  "At  no  level  place  on  this  coune 
did  sand  cause  a  dismount,  except  once  on  a  side  path,  under  the  pine  trees ; "  and,  on  other 
occasions,  he  has  *'  ridden  up  all  the  hills. '^  After  a'  halt  of  ]  h.  for  breakfast,  he  invceeded  to 
Pahner  at  9.40;  was  accompanied  thence  to  West  Brimfield  by  Mr.  Chandler;  reached  East 
Brookfield  at  12.30(85  m.);  stopped  x  11  for  dinner;  Worcester  at  3.30  (105  m.);  Ayer  Junc- 
tion at  8;  Pepp>erell  at  20.  This  is  only  20  m.  from  Nashua,  but  he  added  a  or  3  m.  by 
wandering  from  the  proper  track  on  the  way  thither,  so  that  the  end  was  not  reached  there  until 
12.25  A.  M.  The  record  was  then  155  ol,  whereof  less  than  5  m.  belonged  to  July  9.  "  Durii^ 
this  last  stage  of  the  journey  a  heavy  mist  or  light  rain  prevailed,  and  three  headers  were  taken 
in  the  sand.  The  only  other  header  was  by  daylight,  before  reaching  Springfield.  Weather  was 
cool  and  cloudy,  with  wind  rather  against  me,  but  not  strong  enough  to  have  an  ill  e£EecL  The 
roads  between  Palmer  and  Worcester  are,  as  you  say,  the  poorest  stretch  between  New  Yoik 
and  Nashua ;  but,  as  I  expected  to  find  them  worse,  the  fact  that  they  were  only  poor  en- 
couraged me  to  kick  onward.  Between  Clinton  and  Ayer  Junction  I  found  a  magnificent 
stretch  of  road, — almost  like  a  race-track  for  11  m., — and  this  put  new  life  into  me.  I  was  tired, 
of  course,  when  I  reached  Nashua,  but  not  exhausted.  Perhaps  it  is  worth  adding  to  the 
record  that  I  have  never  used  ardent  spirits  or  tobacco  in  any  shape." 

Another  straightaway  run  on  this  same  course  (130  m.  in  22^  h.,  which  included  7.\  h.  de> 
voted  to  riding  43  m.  additional  by  train),  wras  reported  to  me  by  Dr.  N.  P.  Tyler,  League  coxk- 
sul  at  New  Haven,  whose  day's  ride  of  107  m.  between  Springfield  and  that  dty  may  be  found 
described  in  the  next  chapter,  as  well  as  his  long  stay  in  the  saddle  (35  m.)  on  the  difficult  course  be- 
tween W.  Haven  and  the  Saugatuck  (pp.  138,  149).  The  following  is  condensed  somewhat  from 
the  record  as  printed  in  the  IVfuel^  Jan.  23,  '85  :  "Leaving  New  Haven,  at  a.  15  on  a  dear,  calm 
afternoon  (Oct.  19,  '84),  with  McDonnell  cydometer  and  very  small  lantern,  I  reached  Meriden, 
21  m.,  in  3^  h.,  and  rested  \  h.  for  supper ;  then  went  through  Berlin  to  New  Britain  at  7.35  p. 
M.,  33  m.  I  was  obliged  to  light  my  lantern  2  m.  out  of  Meriden  and  ride  slow,  on  account  ot 
darkness,  reaching  Hartford  at  9.10,  43  m.  Leaving  there  i  h.  later,  after  a  hearty  supper,  I 
took  the  w.  side  of  river,  going  up  through  Agawam,  and  reaching  Springfield  at  3.53  a.  m.,  72 
m.  Out  of  Spring^eld,  by  way  of  Boston  turnpike,  I  found  sand,  practically  unridaUe ;  and 
after  a  few  miles  of  this,  I  took  to  the  railroad  tracks,  and  made  good  time  to  Ezist  Brookfield 
(8.30,  108  m.) ;  where,  being  ordered  off  the  track,  I  boarded  the  train  due  at  8.37  and  rode  as  far 
as  S.  Framingham,  from  which  point  I  had  heard  the  roads  were  good.  They  proved,  in  fact, 
like  a  race  course ;  and,  mounting  at  11.03,  I  rolled  off  the  first  z6  m.  by  13.06.  Then,  taking  a 
wrong  road  into  the  dty,  I  consumed  }  h.  in  doing  the  last  6  m. ;  and  I  reached  Pemberton  Square 
(office  of  the  Bi.  World)^  at  13.45  p.  m.  of  Oct.  30,  with  a  cydometer  record  of  130  m.  to  repre- 
sent an  actual  riding  time  of  17!  h.  After  a  bath  and  dinner,  I  rode  to  the  Reservoir  widba 
friend,  going  several  times  around  it,  and  back,  a  total  of  13  m.  My  machine  was  a  51-in.  Radge 
racer,  weighing  36^  lbs.,  without  brake (Lillibridge  saddle);  and  it  was  in  perfect  condition  at 
the  end  of  the  143  m.,  though  it  had  had  neither  oil  nor  wrench  at  any  time  on  the  journey." 

The  League  consul  at  Westboro',  F.  O.  Swallow  (b.  Dec  16, 1854),  pharmacist,  supplies  for 
me  the  following  report :  "  On  Nov.  4,  '83,  I  wheeled  from  here  to  the  dub  house  on  Union 
Park,  cor.  Tremont  St.,  Boston,  without  leaving  the  saddle,— 41}  m.  in  3  h.  48  min.  The  first 
31  m.  (3  h.  38  min.,  or  an  average  of  xi}  m.  to  the  h.)  were  straightaway,  and  induded  8m. 
which  I  had  never  before  traversed ;  the  next  6}  m.  represented  three  circuits  of  the  upper  basin 
of  Chestnut  Hill  Reservoir ;  and  I  went  thence  directly  to  the  dub  house  for  my  first  stop.  My 
swiftest  riding  was  between  South  Framingham  and  the  Reservoir,  at  the  rate  of  13  m.  an  hour." 


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  Qulne- 
bav^  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  rims 
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- 


iFnnn  TfU  Sprmgjitld  WiMbntnU  GautU,  Jane,  1885. 
• 


I30  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 
city  (pop.  12,000),  sleeping  serenely  on  the  west  bank  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  I  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  f  m. ;  then  east  and  south  along  the  shore-road  to  the  Pequot  House, 
nearly  2  m.,  and  to  the  light-house,  \  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  hiliier, 
inland  road,  as  suppying  the  preferable  westward  course — at  least  to  the 
Connecticut  river. 

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  I  had  silently  "  struggled  for  the  unattam- 
able  "  during  the  final  week  of  six  successive  Junes,  I  felt  both  the  regret 
which  always  oppresses  a  man  when  conviction  comes  that  his  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  be  taken  to  avert  dis- 
aster in  the  rowing  of  larger  ones.  In  1878,  when  "the  mayor  and  leading 
citizens  "  invited  me  up  to  New  London  (to  secretly  serve  as  deus  ex  nuukina 
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  fol- 
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  efforts,  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  1 

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  turned  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  to  Clark's  hotel,  at  the  ferry  on  the  Connecticut  riTcr, 
I  m.,  at  I  o'clock.  I  had  been  5  h.  in  doing  the  17  m.,  and,  as  I  indulged  in  no 
very  long  stops,  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  my  memory,  how- 
ever. A  row-boat  summoned  by  a  horn  from  the  other  shore,  took  me  across 
the  river,  after  dinner ;  and  the  necessity  of  climbing  several  cherry  trees  and 
of  halting  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  the  church 
and  post-office  in  Westbrook  (5  m.) ;  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  corner  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  m., 
after  leaving  Saybrook  Junction.  It  was  here  that  I  completed  my  7,ocx)th 
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  50  m. 
My  afternoon's  progress  would  have  been  faster  except  for  the  mud  which 
was  caused  by  the  shower ;  and  the  entire  track  from  Saybrook  to  New  Haven 
may  be  called  continuously  ridable. 

I  had  an  extremely  pleasant  ride  to  New  Haven,  the  following  forenoon 
(27  m.  in  5  h.),  through  the  clear,  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.)»  I  kept  mostly  on  the  sidewalks,  and  I  was  i  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 
s.  w.  corner  of  the  green  and  turned  1.  with  the  poles  at  the  first  fork.  The 
road  across  the  marshes  supplied  goodish  riding,  though  it  is  overflowed  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  the  road  to  copy  the  inscription :  "  Simeon 
Leete,  shot  here  by  the  Enemy,  18  June,  1781,  ae.  29,"  and  then  I  hastened  on 
to  the  station  at  Stony  Creek  (2  m.),  whence  to  the  green  in  Branford  (4  m.), 
I  found  the  riding  almost  continuously  good,  in  spite  of  the  hills.  From  there 
I  went  without  stop  to  the  summit  of  the  big  hill  (2  m.),  and  again  without 
stop  to  the  watering  trough  near  Tomlinson's  bridge  (3J  m.),  by  which  I 
entered  New  Haven.^     The  dock  of  the  New  York  steamboats  is  just  besidt 


1 1  believe  this  is  the  only  one  of  the  old  cities  in  America,  whose  street-system  was  definitely 
planned  and  fixed  at  the  very  beginning.  The  well-to-do  and  eminently-respectable  band  of 
emigrants  who  founded  New  Haven,  two  and  a  half  centuries  ago,  laid  out  the  place  in  the  form 
of  a  half-mile  square,  bounded  by  State  and  York  sts.,  running  nearly  n.  and  s.,  and  Grove  and 
Geof^e  sts.,  running  nearly  e.  and  w.  This  tract  was  divided  into  nine  squares  of  equal  size,  by 
Church  and  College  sts.,  parallel  to  the  first  pair,  and  Chapel  and  Elm  sta.,  parallel  to  the  second 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT,        133 

this  briclge ;  and  I  rode  from  it  without  dismount  to  the  city  hall  on  Church 
st^  facing  the  green, — ^my  route  being  alongside  the  car  tracks  to  Wooster  St., 
through  that.,  1.,  and  its  prolongation,  over  the  railway  bridge,  then  a  few 
rods  U  to  the  head  of  Crown  St.,  which  soon  crosses  Church  st  at  right 
angles.  All  three  of  these  streets,  and  many  others  in  the  city  are  macadam- 
ized ;  and,  as  a  very  large  number  of  the  New  Haven  sidewalks  are  without 
abrupt  curbs  at  the  crossings,  long  rides  may  be  taken  continuously  on  their 
bricks  or  flagstones.  Oyster-shelb  supply  a  smooth  surface  for  several  of  the 
suburban  roads, — €.g.,  the  one  to  Lake  Saltonstall,  which  I  should  have  men- 
tioned as  a  pretty  sheet  of  water  that  I  passed  after  descending  the  big 
hill  west  of  Branford,  whose  roads  are  of  red  clay.  I  might  also  have  made  a 
pleasant  detour  along  another  shell-road,  if  I  had  turned  1.  at  the  crossing, 
about  I  m.  before  reaching  Tomlinson's  bridge,  and  gone  southward,  along 
the  ridge  overlooking  the  harbor,  to  Morris  Cove  (3  m.) ;  or,  if  I  had  turned  r. 
at  the  same  crossing,  I  should  have  had  a  similar  smooth  track  to  Fair  Haven 
(2  m.),  where  the  river  may  be  crossed,  and  entrance  be  made  to  the  city  by 
other  shell  roads. 

I  had  entered  the  city  in  that  way  eleven  weeks  previously,  on  the  day 
(April  17,  *%2!i  when  I  began  my  fifth  season  as  a  tourist,  by  riding  down  from 
Hartford,  42  m. ;  and  the  stretch  of  shell-road  from  Montowese  to  Fair  Haven 
supplied  the  only  decent  riding  I  had  during  the  last  section  of  the  journey. 
The  trick-rider,  D.  J.  Canary,  accompanied  me,  that  afternoon,  from  Meriden 
to  Wallingford,  which  probably  accounts  for  my  doing  the  distance  (7^  m.)  in 
so  short  a  time  as  i  h.,  as  well  as  for  my  having  two  side  falls  in  sand  ruts, — 
for  these  I  should  not  have  attempted  to  plow  through,  had  I  been  alone,  in- 
stead of  trying  to  follow  the  lead  of  such  a  distinguished  "  stayer."  We  did 
not  really  enter  the  town,  for  our  road  was  alongside  the  pond  which  lies  just 
west  of  it ;  and  I  found  that  the  road  grew  sandier  from  that  point  southward. 
About  I  m.  on,  I  turned  1.  from  the  straight  pike  for  New  Haven,  and,  after 
much  walking,  reached  the  church  in  North  Haven  (5  m.),  and  finally  (3  m.) 
the  hdped-for  shell-road  before  named.  I  was  almost  2  h.  in  getting  across 
the  6  m.  below  Wallingford,  and  I  do  not  recommend  the  route.  Eight 
months  later  (Dec.  12),  I  used  a  part  of  the  same  track,  in  riding  from  Meri- 
den to  Bridgeport  (7  a.  m.  to  6  p.  m.,  3S  m.),  when  an  inch  of  fresh  snow  had 
added  a  new  element  of  danger  to  the  frozen  ruts.  From  the  Winthrop 
House  to  the  end  of  the  sidewalk  on  Cook  av.  (r  m.),  and  thence  to  the  rail- 
pair  ;  and  the  four  streets  last  named  therefore  bound  the  central  square  of  the  nin;,  which 
fonns  the  city  green.  The  other  eight  have  each  been  subdivided  into  four  smaller  squares ;  but 
thb  system  of  symmetrical  rectangles  has  not  been  maintained  in  building  the  numerous  addi- 
tions which  have  made  New  Haven  rank  next  in  size  to  Boston  among  the  cities  of  New  Eng- 
land. Many  of  the  modem  streets  take  an  oblique  direction  from  the  borders  of  the  original 
"  half-mile  square,"  so  that  it  now  appears  on  the  map  as  the  central  and  most  regular  feature 
m  a  large  area  of  territory  which  has  been  pretty  solidly  built  upon.  An  excellent  hand-book 
for  the  visitor  is  "  Yale  and  the  City  of  Elms  "  (i2  mo,  pp.  200,  heliotypes,  cloth,  $1),  compiled 
by  W.  £.  Decrow,  a  graduate  of  the  college  in  '81,  and  published  by  him  at  Boston,  in  '83. 


134  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

way  calvert  (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  main  road  again  in  i  m.,  near  the  stone  marked  "'  X.  m.  to  N.  H."  I  took 
the  1.  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  L 
for  the  shore  road,  I  tried  the  experiment  of  turning  r.,  over  the  railway. 
An  experience  of  ij^  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  tourist  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  \\  m.,  northward  along  a  smooth  ridge  \  m.,  follow 
telegraph  poles  around  a  curve  to  1.  and  then  r.,  on  a  down  grade,  to  bridge, 
i\  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  1.,  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 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT. 


I3S 


day  on  "  No.  234 "),  and  Pope  cyclometer  called  the  distance  8  m. ;  but,  re- 
turning along  the  same  route  ten  days  later  (my  first  ride  on  "  No.  234,  Jr."), 
I  covered  it  in  i  h.  20  min.,  and  Butcher  cyclometer  gave  the  distance  as  9  m. ; 
which  it  increased  to  9J  m.,  on  my  third  trial  in  December.  On  each  of  these 
journeys  toward  Cheshire  I  had  to  walk  for  nearly  i  m.  on  the  sandy  up- 
grade leading  southward  from  the  bridge.  I  wheeled  from  Cheshire  through 
Whitneyville  to  New  Haven  (14J  m.)  in  2  h.,  though  the  surface  had  grown 
definitely  softer  during  the  ten  days  since  I  had  tried  it  in  the  other  direction 
(2J  h. );  but  in  December  I  rode  from  Cheshire  through  Mt.  Carmel  to  Center- 
▼ille  without  stop  (8  m.  in  i  h.),  and  then  made  the  mistake  of  turning  r.,  in 
order  to  enter  thie  city  through  Dixwell  av.,  which  is  usually  recommended  by 
New  Haven  cyders,  as  being  I  m.  shorter  than  the  Whitney  av.  route. 

I  say  "  mistake,"  because  I  found  that  the  dirt  sidewalks,  which  supply 
a  smooth  connection  between  Centerville  and  Dixwell  av,  in  milder  weather, 
had  become  muddy  by  the  action  of  the  sun  upon  the  frost ;  while  the  road- 
way itself  was  so  sandy  as  to  be  barely  ridable.  It  would  have  been  better 
for  me  if  I  had  kept  straight  ahead  by  the  road  which  passes  Lake  Whitney, 
for  I  might  have  traversed  it  without  dismount ;  and  I  advise  all  strangers, 
wheeling  between  New  Haven  and  Meriden,  to  take  that  route,  whatever  be 
the  weather.  No  such  stranger  should  fail  to  make  the  ascent  of  East  Rock, 
which  is  now  the  distinguishing  feature  of  a  magnificent  public  park,  supplied 
with  macadamized  roads,  whose  grades  were  determined  by  careful  surveys 
and  engineering.  Orange  st,  stretches  in  a  perfectly  straight  line  from  Crown 
St.,  in  New  Haven,  to  the  bridge  at  the  base  of  the  Rock,  where  the  ascend- 
ing road  begins ;  but,  from  the  parallel  thoroughfare,  Whitney  av.,  a  cross- 
street  may  be  taken,  just  s.  of  Whitneyville,  to  a  little  swing-ferry,  which  will 
land  the  tourist  very  near  the  same  point.  My  only  ascent  of  this  new  park 
road  was  made  on  foot  (Feb.  22,  *85),  and  though  most  of  the  grades  seemed 
quite  gentle,  there  was  a  rather  sharp  one  near  the  summit  which  I  thought 
(however  easily  it  might  be  surmounted  separately)  would  be  likely  to  stop  the 
average  rider  who  reached  it  in  the  weary  condition  caused  by  a  mile  of  contin- 
uous climbing.  I  am  told,  however,  that  the  entire  ascent  has  been  several 
times  made  without  stop,  by  Dr.  Tyler  and  other  New  Haven  riders.  From 
the  north  side  of  the  eminence,  a  descent  may  be  made  to  the  road  for  North 
Haven,  which  is  just  at  the  foot  of  it ;  and  if  any  tourist,  in  wheeling  between 
Meriden  and  New  Haven,  insists  upon  trying  that  road  (in  spite  of  my  asser- 
tion that  the  route  through  Centerville  and  Mt.  Carmel  is  far  preferable),  let 
me  remind  him  that  a  passage  through  this  beautiful  park  is  in  the  direct  line 
of  his  course.  Let  me  remind  every  sentimeiital  tourist,  indeed,  that  East 
Rock  is  not  only  one  of  the  highest,  but  perhaps  also  the  most  distinguished 
of  the  Connecticut  hill-tops.  I  am  not  aware,  at  least,  that  any  other 
mountain  in  the  State  has  figured  so  many  times  in  song  and  story ;  though  I 
must  beg  pardon  of  the  poet  whose  lines  I  now  quote^  for  applying  them  to  a 

1"  Holyoke  Valley,"  io  The  Round  TaiU.  July  2,  1864,  p.  35. 


136  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

different  scene  f Pom  the  one  which  he  wished  them  to  celebrate,— for  the  1 
force  themselves  upon  my  memory  whenever,  in  these  later  days,  I  gaze  at 
shore  and  hill-top  from  the  outlook  of  East  Rock : 

On  restless  wings  the  years  have  fled,  New  Haven,  over  thee  and  me. 
Since  last  my  wandering  pathway  led  upon  these  heights  that  guard  thy  lea. 
I  see  the  hazy  waters  meet  the  sky,  and  count  each  shining  spire, 
From  those  which  sparkle  at  my  feet  to  distant  steeples  tipt  with  fire. 
For  still  thy  beauties  are  the  same.    The  robms  sing  their  choral  tmie. 
Within  thy  mantling  elms  aflame,  as  m  that  other,  dearer  June, 
When  here  my  footsteps  entered  first,  and  summer  perfect  beauty  wore. 
And  an  thy  charms  apon  me  burst,  while  all  the  wide  world  lay  before. 
No  less  each  fragrant  walk  remains,  where  happy  maidens  come  and  go. 
And  students  saunter  in  thy  lanes,  and  sing  the  songs  I  used  to  know. 
Thus  much  't  is  given  me  to  find,  but,  while  the  natural  eye  beholds. 
Sad  Memory,  to  the  picture  blind,  her  fairer  inward  scene  unfolds. 
I  gaze,  and  feel  myself  alone,  and  walk  with  solitary  feet ; 

How  strange  these  wonted  ways  have  grown  \    Where  are  the  friends  I  used  to  meet  ? 
In  yonder  shaded  Academe  the  rippling  meters  flow  to-day, 
But  other  boys  at  sunset  dream  of  love,  and  laurels  far  away. 
And,  ah  I  from  many  a  trellised  home,  less  sweet  the  faces  are  that  peer 
Than  those  of  old,  and  voices  come  less  musically  to  my  ear. 
It  pains  me  that  yon  river  can  still  pour  its  full  unchanging  stream, 
And  we  more  transitory  than  the  mountain's  clod,  the  water's  gleam. 
Sigh  not,  ye  mountain  pines,  nor  give  the  whispwrs  which  I  yearn  to  hear — 
,     Soft  tones,  whose  memories  shall  live  forever  in  my  straining  ear  ; 

But  smile,  to  gladden  fresher  hearts,  henceforth  :  for  they  shall  yet  be  led, 
Revisiting  these  ancient  parts,  like  me  to  mourn  their  glory  fled. 

Chapter  XIX.  describes  my  "  winter  wheeling  "  northward,  to  Hartford 
and  beyond  J  and,  in  my  Springfield  chapter  (p.  122),  I  have  reported  the  route 
which  I  traversed  between  those  two  cities,  Dec.  4,  1884.  On  the  afternoon 
of  that  day,  when  I  reached  the  crest  of  the  hill  s.  of  Trinity  College,  where 
New  Britain  av.  is  to  be  descended  s.  w.  by  those  who  seek  the  town  of  that 
name  (and  it  is  an  objective  point  on  all  the  best  wheeling  routes  that  connect 
Hartford  with  New  Haven),  I  turned  squarely  to  the  %.,  and  rode  i  m.  along 
the  macadamized  ridge,  having  fine  views  of  the  country  on  both  sides  of  it 
At  the  end  I  followed  the  telegraph  poles  along  the  old  turnpike  in  a  straight 
line  to  the  hotel  at  Berlin  (9  m.  in  2  h.),  where  the  red  clay  road  from  New 
Britain  joins  it ;  and  ray  report  reads :  "  hills  and  ridges  in  succession,  muddy 
and  sandy  by  turns,  no  attractive  views,  few  houses ;  the  sandy  spots,  made 
ridable  by  the  frost,  would  probably  be  too  soft  in  the  summer,  and  the  muddy 
places  would  probably  be  ridable  then."  If  I  had  taken  the  usual  and  prefer- 
able route,  s.  w.  from  the  college  hill,  I  should  have  had  a  choice  of  courses, 
after  crossing  under  the  railway  at  Elmwood  (about  3  m.),  for  there  the 
meadow  road  to  Newington  branches  to  the  right,  and  I  was  told  that  New 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT       137 

Britain  riders  prefer  it,  except  at  the  muddy  season.  I  myself  have  had  better 
luck,  however,  by  keeping  due  west,  up  a  long  hill  (ridable  but  tiresome),  sur- 
mounted by  a  school-house,  and  to  Corbin's  corner,  about  i  m.  beyond,  where 
a  turn  is  made  s.,  followed  by  nearly  2  m.  of  poor  ridiog ;  then  a  short  ascent 
after  crossing  a  brook  (I  have  conquered  this  but  once  in  a  half  dozen  trials), 
another  turn  s.,  and  2  m.  of  smooth  roadway  to  New  Britain.  About  \  m. 
after  taking  this  last  turn,  a  junction  is  made  with  the  other  road  that 
stretches  e.  to  Newington  and  Elmwood  (4  m.,  which  I  have  found  more  tire- 
some, on  account  of  mud  and  ruts,  than  the  5}  m.  just  described).  Another 
ridable  route  to  the  last  named  place,  from  Hartford,  leads  through  Asylum  st. 
(which  crosses  the  tracks  at  right  angles  in  front  of  the  railway  station,  and 
whose  stone  sidewalk  is  ridable  up-hill  to  the  w.),  and  then  Farmington^av., 
in  the  same  westward  direction  to  Quaker  lane,  which  is  the  second  or  third 
cross-street  beyond  the  terminus  of  the  horse  railroad,  and  which  leads  south- 
ward in  a  pretty  direct  line  to  the  main  street  in  Elmwood,  about  opposite 
the  meadow  road  for  Newington.  The  church-spire  of  West  Hartford  is 
hardly  i  m.  away,  when  the  turn  is  made  into  Quaker  lane,  and  a  parallel  road 
extends  from  that  church  to  the  school-house  on  the  hill  beyond  Elmwood. 
Farmington  is  5  ra.  to  the  n.  of  Plain ville,  and  the  same  distance  s.  w.  of  West 
Hartford ;  and  local  wheelmen  have  told  me  that  the  roads  connecting  them 
are  fairly  ndable.  I  lately  learned,  also,  from  a  resident  of  Berlin,  that  the 
direct  road  between  there  and  Hartford,  which  I  have  described  as  difficult 
in  December,  has  been  traversed  by  him,  both  n.  and  s.,  without  dismount. 

At  the  fork,  2  m.  e.  of  New  Britain,  where  the  tourist  sees  the  church- 
spire,  beside  the  hotel  at  Berlin,  i(  m.  ahead,  he  should  aim  for  it,  by  taking 
the  1.  road,  for  in  that  way  he  may  go  to  Meriden  without  stop  (6  m.  s.  from 
the  hotel,  though  the  hill  just  before  reaching  the  hotel  is  rather  hard  climb- 
mg).  If  he  turns  r.  at  the  before-named  fork,  and  then  crosses  the  railway, 
he  may  ultimately  reach  the  same  road,  after  considerable  rough  traveling. 
I  once  found  there  (Dec.  11,  '83)  so  much  of  the  latter,  that,  in  despair  of 
reaching  the  former,  I  turned  westward,  over  a  railway  bridge,  and  tried  again 
the  southward  course,  which  I  had  happened  to  hit  upon  in  my  earliest  ex- 
ploration of  the  region  (June  10,  *8o),  and  of  which  I  then  printed  the  follow- 
ing report :  **  Below  Berlin  the  road  runs  along  the  west  side  of  the  railway 
for  s6me  distance,  and,  within  4  m.,  it  leads  over  several  long  hills,  which 
have  to  be  ascended  on  foot,  if  not  also  descended  in  the  same  manner. 
Mounting  at  last,  near  the  top  of  one  of  these,  the  rider  may  go  without  stop 
to  the  hotel  in  Meriden  (3^  m.),  though  he  will  have  to  climb  a  tolerable  hill 
soon  after  the  start,  apd  also  a  short,  steep  one  about  i  m.  from  the  finish. 
Between  these  p>oints,  the  road  has  a  continuous  downward  slope,  varying 
pleasantly  in  degrees  of  steepness,  and  for  more  than  a  mile  it  runs  through  a 
magnificent,  shaded  glen  or  gorge, — worthy  of  a  nobler  name  than  *  Cat  Hole 
Pass,' — the  very  perfection  of  wheeling."  At  the  fork,  4  m.  n.  of  Meriden, 
on  the  other  road,  either  branch  may  be  taken,  for  the  two  converge  again 


138  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

s.  of  Berlin ;  but  whoever  turns  1.  at  the  fork,  as  I  prefer  to  do,  should  turn  c 
at  the  next  chance  which  offers.^ 


1  About  the  middle  of  September,  1883,  roads  and  weather  being  favorable,  Dr.  T.  S.  Rint, 
Captain  of  the  Meriden  Wheel  ^Qub,  drove  a  56  in.  wheel  by  this  route  to  New  Britain  and 
Hartford  (about  33  m.)  without  leaving  the  saddle.  On  December  i,  '83,  William  CoQins, 
of  the  same  dub  (whose  day's  ride  of  155  m.  from  this  town  to  Nashua,  N.  H.,  has  been  rs- 
corded  on  p.  xaS),  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  attached  to  his  5a  m. 
wheel.  A  more  remarkable  day's  run  by  the  same  rider  (May  31,  '84,  4.30  a.  m.  to  S.so  r.  m.) 
extended  from  the  Grand  Union  Hotel,  4a  st.  and  4th  av.,  N.  Y.,  to  Meriden, — ^his  route  being 
through  5th  av.,  Central  av.,  past  Jerome  Park  and  Woodlawn  Cemetery  (near  which  be  made  a 
detour  of  |  m.  in  losii^  his  course)  to  Mt  Vernon  and  New  Rochelle, — which  point  he  might 
muclkmore  readily  have  reached  by  the  shore  road  (p.  73).  He  took  the  direct  pike  from  Mflfosd 
to  New  Haven  \  and  the  Ducwell  av.  route  thence  to  Centerville  and  Cheshire.  He  bad  Ittuch 
at  Jerome  Park,  breakfast  at  Mt.  Vernon  (}  h.),  dinner  at  Southport  (i  to  1.30  p.  m.),  reached 
Bridgeport  at  3.30,  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  Southprnt  and 
New  Haven.  "  The  weather  was  cool  and  pleasant,"  he  writes,  "  and  the  idea  of  attemptiDg  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  hiBs,  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  coald  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.  a4« 
Z849;  grad.  Yale  Law  School,  1876} :  "  Started  at  3.15  a.  m.,  to  avoid  heat,  atkl  paaiaed  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  m. 
thence  to  Milford  required  ^  m.  of  walking ;  the  3^  m.  to  Housatonic  river  at  Stratford  required 
perhaps  \  m.  on  foot ;  the  10  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,  roo^ 
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  routts  to  New  Haven  is  fnHQ  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  afterwards 
prepared  for  roe  a  statement  which  I  printed  in  the  Wheel  {^9Xi,  33,  '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  rctimi,  but  were  prevented 
by  the  rain  from  going  further  than  White  Plains ;  that  we  reached  Bridgeport,  ao  m.,  following 
the  shore  road,  in  s  h.  5  min.,  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  M> 
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.,  5}  h.  after  starting.  Wednesday  I 
rode  from  White  Plains  to  Milford,  51  m.,  inside  of  9  h. ;  running  time,  ^\  h.  Dated  at  New 
Haven  this  8th  day  of  Nov.,  1884.  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  Sumford,  at  a  o'clock,  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  a.  again  across 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT.       139 

"  Interested  wheelmen  will  perhaps  often  hereafter  take  pleasure  in  visit- 
ing the  charming  valley  of  the  Naugatuck,  and  pedaling  over  the  first  coun- 
try roadway  that  knew  the  sinuous  track  of  the  bicycle,  and  coasting  the  hill 
of  the  first  genuine  header."  So  wrote  Charles  E.  Pratt,  in  his  entertaining 
historical  sketch  {Th€  Wheelman^  Oct.  1883,  p.  12),  which  gave  the  biography, 
portrait  (1S69)  and  autograph  of  the  inventor  of  the  crank  bicycle :  Pierre 
Lallement,  who  was  born  Oct.  25,  1843,  *^  Pont-a-Mousson,  near  Nancy, 
France,  and  whom  the  close  of  his  fortieth  year  found,  after  many  ups  and 
downs  of  fortune,  employed  as  a  skilled  mechanic  by  the  Pope  Manufacturing 
Company,  at  Boston.  The  sketch  says  that  Lallement,  in  the  spring  of  1866, 
having  successfully  made  shorter  trials  between  Ansonia  and  Birmingham, 
wheeled  from  Ansonia  to  New  Haven,  "  and  there  rode  his  novel  vehicle  on 

what  is  tenned  Hog-pen  Ridge,  3  m.,  and  very  fine  riding,  to  the  Port  Chester  boulevard.  It 
was  then  raining  torrents  and  the  mud  was  inches  deep,  but  we  pushed  on,  reaching  White 
Plains  at  5.30  o'clock,  61  m.  At  8.45, 1  started  on  alone  for  Tarrytown,  reaching  there  at  10 
r.  M.,  with  the  rain  still  foiling.  I  ivould  advise  riders  to  go  direct  from  Stamford  to  Port 
Chester,  and  then  push  w.  to  White  Plains,  as  the  better  and  shorter  road.  Greenwich  is, 
however,  decidedly  hilly.  I  rode  a  a6^  lb.  Rudge  racer  and  lillibridge  saddle.  This  ride  was 
remarkable  in  reference  to  the  25^  m.  without  dismount,  as  your  own  knowledge  of  the  road 
makes  you  well  aware.  My  first  stop  was  caused  by  a  long,  steep  hill,  4^  m.  out  from  New 
Haven  ;  but  I  have  since  ridden  around  it  by  another  road  without  stop."  It  seems  from  this 
that  a  skilful  rider  might  have  the  good  luck  to  go  from  Cheshire  to  South  Norwalk  and  beyond 
(say  50  to  55  m.)  without  leaving  the  saddle;  though  I  most  say  that  Dr.  Tyler's  good  luck  as 
wdl  as  "  staying  "  power  appears  to  me  very  extraordinary.  I  have  as  yet  heard  of  no  "  stay  " 
equally  long  upon  a  course  which  I  know  to  be  so  difficult  as  that  one.  The  latter  part  of  it, 
Southington  to  South  Norwalk,  I  myself  have  explored  but  once  (Dec.  6,  '84),  when  I  made 
numberless  dismounts,  and  did  much  walking  through  the  sand,  with  several  detours  (9  m.  in  3  h.) ; 
and  I  therefore  recommend  through  tourists  to  stick  to  the  turnpike,  and  avoid  those  two  towns 
entirely,  as  I  have  always  done  on  other  occasions.  This  preferable  route  leads  across  the  rail- 
way beyond  Fairfield,  and  includes  a  long  hill  at  Westport  (which  I  have  ridden  up,  two  or  three 
times,  though  it  makes  me  groan),  and  another  one  beyond  Norwalk  (4  m.),  the  road  up  which 
branches  off  to  the  r.  from  the  main  street  leading  to  South  Norwalk.  The  two  routes  con- 
veige  at  Darien  (4  m.) ;  and  the  traveler  coming  thence  towards  New  Haven,  who  wishes  to  go 
through  South  Norwalk,  should  bear  to  the  r.  after  crossing  the  brook.  Again,  after  riding  up  the 
hill  leadii^  out  of  Norwalk,  on  the  s.  sidewalk,  he  should  cross  the  green,  and  leave  it  from  the 
diagonally  opposite  comer,  for  the  road  on  the  I.  of  the  church  will  take  him  astray  towards  Weston. 
If  he  wishes  to  exchange  the  direct  pike  for  the  shore  road  at  Westport,  he  may  turn  r.  and  follow 
the  river  down  a  m.  to  Saugatuck ;  or  if  he  sticks  to  the  pike  until  he  reaches  the  little  octagonal 
house  at  a  cross-roads  he  may  there  branch  r.  and  pass  through  Southport,  rejoining  the  main 
road  again  at  the  before-mentioned  railway  crossing  w.  of  Fairfield.  When  he  reaches  that 
town,  he  should  turn  r.  and  then  1.,  in  order  to  enjoy  the  broad  and  shady  sidewalk  of  its  main 
street ;  and,  in  case  of  riding  towards  Southport,  he  should  be  careful,  when  he  reaches  the  end 
of  this  main  sidewalk,  to  follow  it  round  the  comer,  1.,  instead  of  taking  the  sandy  road  directly 
in  front  of  him.  When  he  leaves  Stamford  he  will  encounter  a  hill,  which  is  tiresome  to  climb, 
from  whose  summit  he  may  see  the  church  spires  of  Greenwich,  5  m.  beyond ;  and,  shortly 
before  reaching  them,  he  will  pass  up  a  rough  grade  (which  I  have  never  ridden)  through  a 
cutting  in  the  rode  that  is  famous  in  tradition  as  the  one  down  which  dashed  the  heroic  horseman, 
General  PcgLnam,  dear  to  the  hearts  of  boyish  students  of  our  Revolutionary  history,  and  escaped 
tmharmed  from  the  fusilade  of  the  British  cavalrymen,  who  dared  not  spur  their  steeds  in  further 
pusuit  of  so  desperate  a  rider. 


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,  durixig 
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 year%  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  lallement  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.  says 
"  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 
I J  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  i^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,  except 


SHORE  AND  HILL-^TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT.       141 

on  foot,  of  the  various  steep  sidewalks  of  smooth  concrete,  where  the  local 
riders  delight  to  test  their  prowess  as  hill-climbers.  I  had  a  chat  with  a  man 
who  worked  in  the  same  machine-shop  with  Lallement,  during  nearly  all  the 
period  of  his  stay  here  in  1865-66.  He  recalled  him  as  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  " 
in  a  very  Frenchy  manner,  led  them  very  generally  to  call  him  by  the  nick- 
Dame  "  Crapoo."  This  variation  of  **  Johnny  Crai>aud  "  was  doubtless  easier 
to  utter  than  "  Lallement " ;  but  the  fact  of  its  being  in  vogue  serves  in  its 
way  to  confirm  the  testimony  of  my  informant  that  the  utterers  all  looked  upon 
•*  Crapoo  "  with  a  sort  of  good-natured  contempt,  as  a  man  of  no  particular 
account.  He  did  not  impress  them  at  all  as  a  possible  inventor, .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,  to  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  "  was  n'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 
dismount  about  midway,  where  I  first  reached  the  river  level.  Tlie  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  donfe  as  well,  for  the  two  converge 
m  }  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  to  the  hill.  I  found  a  little  sand 
at  the  foot  of  the  descent  before  I  reached  the  first  of  the  small  bridges  be- 
side the  pond  {\  m.) ;  and  I  then  rode  I  m.  without  stop,  up  a  long  sandy 
grade  and  down  it  to  the  water-trough.  Descending  another  stony  hill,  I 
stayed  in  the  saddle  for  near  3  m.,  or  almost  to  the  top  of  a  big  hill,  opposite 
a  picnic  grove,  on  the  river  below, — ^passing  meanwhile  the  "  Beacon  Falls 
Hotel "  and  the  neater  looking  **  High  Rock  House  by  E.  Brown,"  with  a 
big  brick  factory  between  them,  and  riding  for  quite  a  distance  on  a  cinder 
path.  The  descent  of  the  hill  was  followed  by  a  continuous  though  gentle 
ascent  until  I  reached  the  Naugatuck  Hotel  (3  m.),  at  12.40  p.  m., — no  prc- 
timinary  stop  having  been  forced  upon  me,  spite  of  the  soft  and  rough  sur- 


142  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

face.  Having  disposed  of  dinner  in  }  h.,  I  rode  i|  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  th^  mud  in  the 
street.  Taking  the  1.,  I  passed  the  Oakville  post-office  and  store  (if  m.)  and 
reached  the  hill  in  Watertown  where  the  churches  stand  (2^  m.)  at  3.30 
o'clock.  Here  I  turned  off  from  the  direct  turnpike  for  Litchfield,  and  went 
up  a  hill  to  1.,  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  "  3^  m.  to  Morris ;  3}  m.  to  Watertown.**  Just  i  m.  beyond 
this  post,  I  turned  to  r.  and  climbed  nearly  to  the  crest  of  the  hill  at  the 
^ross-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  this ;  and 
when  I  walked  down  the  Litchfield  hill,  two  days  later,  the  sand  seemed  so  deep  that  I  shooM 
not  have  attempted  to  ride  down,  had  my  wheel  been  with  me.  From  Waterbury  the  tnck 
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  fi%m  that  city  down 
the  west  side  of  the  valley  to  Birmingham,  and  thence  to  Stratford ;  but  the  final  section  of 
it  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  of 
concrete,  for  the  up-grade  trials  of  wheeling,  is  the  sidewalk  of  Foundry  HiU,  banning  at  the 
self-4ame  foundry  where  Pierre  Lallement  was  employed,  twenty  years  ago.  There  is  said  to 
be  good  riding  from  Waterbury  to  Bristol  (10  or  13  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  Tcrrysville,  Thomaston  and  Northfield ;  and  it  is  said  to  be  ridable.  In 
the  summer  of  V9>  l^f-  O*  P-  Fiske,  who  was  then  an  undergraduate  at  Amherst,  toured  from 
New  Haven  to  Poughkeepsie,  by  way  of  Birmingham,  Oxford,  Roxbury  and  New  Millord. 
"  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  emiiiently-r«spectap 
ble  New  England  town* at  its  best  estate.  It  is  well  worth  visiting,  if  only  for  the  sake  of 
convincing  one's  self  that  such  placid  villages  really  do  exist,  undisturbed  by  the  rush  and  nw 


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  }  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  fdr  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  xj  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 .' 
**  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  (2^  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  railwaTs,  and  unruffled  by  the  fret  and  bustle  of  "  fashionable  summer-resort  people." 
AD  the  residences  seem  to  shelter  well-to-do  owners,  and  almost  none  of  the  residences  seem 
ooostructed  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  nerres  of  the  sentimental  tourist  to  find  such  kindred  spirits  who  are  able  thus  to  take 
pride  in  living  within  the  same  wooden  walls  that  afforded  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  passengers  at  the  little  terminal 
station  "behind  the  hQl  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,  yttien  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  Hudsoo.  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  (5  m.),  whence  to  Sharon 
(about  8  m.)  good  wheeling  may  be  had.  A  road  winds  through  the  mountain-passes  e.  from 
South  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  Massachusetts. 


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.)*  and  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 1  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  Z2  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  c.  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  i>oor  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 
15  m.)  supplies  very  good  wheeling. 

The  Farmington  river  (whose  feeders  reach  over  the  line  into  Massa^ 
chusetts)  after  taking  a  s.  c.  course  for  about  13  m.  from  New  Hartford, 


SHORE  AND-HIU^TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT, 


H5 


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  (CoUinaville  and  Unionville  being  the  intermediate  vil- 
lages), and  that  the  mountain  scenery  of  that  westerly  branch  of  the  V^haped 
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  1}  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  Collinsville ;  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  Collinsville  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,  z\  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  took  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,  irf  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  tinte  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  hou.se,  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  nortli' 
era  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  previons 
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,  i}-  m.,  I  turned  1. ;  1.  also  at  cross-roads, 
1}  m.  later ;  r.  at  the  triangle,  \\  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,  2f  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,  1}  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  J  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  u  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  appropnately  be  mentioned  here,  as  it  included  15  m.  of  good 
wheeling  across  the  n.  w.  corner  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  i  J  h.),  at  3.30 
o'clock,  that  Sunday  afternoon.  An  hour  later,  at  Washington  Hollow  ($  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,  f  m.  beyond,  I  obeyed  the  sign  which  pointed  to  the 
Sharon  pike.  Ptatt*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  Newburg  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,  until  the  "  mile-pointer  "  had 
revolved  four  times,  and  then  it  began  to  count  again  regularly  with  that 
pointer,  "  i,ooi,"  **  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 
r^stered  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  i^  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  i^  m.  to  the  Maple  Shade  Hotel,  in  Salisbury, 
at  11-15,  and  a  halt  of  i^  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.  (4  m.),  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  obstade 
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,  mbtakenly  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  I  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  crossing  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  Pittsiield  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  Comers,  about  S  m.  n.  w.  The  road  from 
there  to  the  Hudson  river  (25  m.  or  more)  has  been  wheeled  without  a  stop.^ 

1  By  a  Brooklyn  schoolboy,  C.  C.  Woolworth,  jr.,  July  27,  '83,  at  n^ch  time  he  was  ooly 
16  years  old.  "  Starting  at  6  in  the  morning  from  Canaan  Four  Ccnners,  where  I  ^>ent  moat 
of  the  summer,  I  reached  my  father's  paper-mill,  beyond  the  village  of  Castletom,  in  jinC  aboat 
4  h.  Roads  fine ;  weather  cool,  and  air  free  from  moisture.  I  coasted  down  from  the  Hubbard 
House,  conquered  the  next  hill  for  the  first  time,  and  turned  1.  along  the  level  to  E.  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  descen^ng  to  the  river  road  I  took  a  header,  by  let- 
ting my  so-in.  Columbia  strike  some  loose  stones.  I  also  stopped  n«u-  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  35  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  Connecticiit, 
(published  1884,  revised  1885,  scale  s^m.  to  i  in.,  price  $6),  which  ought  to  be  hung  on  the  wall 
of  every  bicyclers'  club-room  in  the  Sute.  It  measures  4  by  3  ft.,  but  the  dissected  edition  for 
carriage  use,  is  folded  into  a  cloth  case,  i  ft  square,  and  consists  of  a  dozen  sectioDS  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  the  population  of 
each  town  in  1870-80,  arranged  by  senatorial  districts,  is  printed  upon  the  margin.  The  whole 
of  Westchester  county  is  included,  and  the  n.  shore  of  Long  Island.  Connecticut  has  ci^bt 
counties,  half  of  them  along  the  shore,  and  the  other  half  along  the  line  of  Massachiisfttts;  and 


SHORE  AND  HILL-TOP  IN  CONNECTICUT.        149 

the  publishera  intend  to  issue,  in  1886,  a  paper  edition  of  their  map,  in  three  sections  (50  c  to 
75  c  eachX  The  western  section  will  give  Litchfield  and  Fairfield  (with  the  adjacent  West- 
diester, — an  excellent  map  for  New  Yorkers) ;  the  central  section  will  give  New  Haven  and 
Middlesex,  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  except  the 
two  last  named  have  been  issued  by  the  same  publishers,  as  described  on  p.  99 ;  but  their  price 
is  prohibitory  to  bicyclers,  unless  in  the  case  of  dubs.  Most  of  Beers's  atlases,  indeed,  are  out 
of  the  market ;  and  I  catalogue  them  because,  having  been  published  by  subscription,  copies 
may  presumably  be  consulted  in  many  of  the  local  libraries  and  hotels.  G.  H.  Adams  &  Son, 
59  Beekman  st.,  N.  Y.,  issue  a  map  of  Conn.  (1874,  a6  by  18  in.,  6  m.  to  i  in.,  |  os.,  50  c), 
^riiich  includes  a  good  part  of  R.  1.,  N.  Y.  e.  of  the  Hudson  and  the  whole  of  L.  L,-^hoi«h 
only  a  few  of  the  main  roads  are  shown.  A  much  more  carefully-prepared  map  of  the  State 
(revised  1884,  2S  by  19  in.,  5  m.  to  i  in.,  75  c),  giving  a  minute  but  tolerably  clear  showing  of  all 
the  roads,  is  issued  by  the  Coltons,  183  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  14,000m.,  whereof  a  summary  will  be 
presented  in  a  later  chapter.  His  first  long  run  (107  m.  inside  of  19  h.,  with  only  about  la  m.  of 
repetitioos ;  recorded  briefly  in  Hazlett's  "  Summary  "  :  Outingt  Feb.,  1884,  p.  373)  was  thus 
reported  to  me  :  "  The  roads  being  in  good  condition,  and  fine  weather  having  prevailed  for 
sevefaidays,  with  n.  w.  wind,  I  took  train  northward  and  reached  the  rooms  of  the  Springfield 
Biqnde  Cfaib  at  10.30  p.  m.  Two  members  thereof  decided  to  accompany  me,  in  attempting  a 
locMn.  run ;  and,  having  finished  supper,  we  started  at  1.15  a.  m.  (Nov.  17,  '83),  with  bright 
noonligbt,  very  little  wind,  and  thermometer  showing  24^.  Foupd  fair  wheeling  to  Westfield, 
9im.,  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  i  or  s  m.  to 
a  crosfr-ronds,  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.  (16),  and  Springfield  again  in  8  m.  (34),  where 
I  turned  o£F  a^  mu  more  (a6^)  before  getting  a  new  handle-bar  fitted.  Then  at  8.30, 1  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  i  m.,  before  crossing  into  the  dty,  28I  m. 
^5),  where  I  dined.  Proceeding  then  1}  m.  towards  Berlin  I  retraced  my  course  to  Hartford  (58), 
in  order  to  go  to  Farmington,  10  m.  (68) ;  and  I  found  the  road  thither  was  partly  very  fine  and 
partly  very  poor;  but  thence  to  New  Britain,  6^  m.  (74^)*  Berlin,  4im.  (79),  Meriden,  8m.  (87), 
and  WaUingford,  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  vras  met  by  a  wheelman  who  escorted  me  in  to  the 
finish  at  New  Haven,  i3|m.  (107)  at  7.55  o'clock.  I  was  pretty  tired  and  one  knee  ached, 
ihough  I  think  this  resulted  from  the  extra  exertion  required  in  fighting  the  wind,  which  at  times 
was  almost  a  gale.  During  the  next  day  I  wheeled  i  si  m. ,  in  making  my  usual  professional  calls ; 
and  then,  at  1 1  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  and 
good  roads  to  favor  us,  we  went  about  i  m.  beyond  Branford ;  back  to  East  Haven  ;  down  by 
the  light-bouse ;  up  along  the  shore  ;  through  Fair  Haven  to  Montowese  and  back  to  New 
Haven,  29)  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  again  ;  then  2^ 
m.  about  the  dty;  then  to  Whitney  Lake  and  back,  a  total  of  a6im.,  makmg  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  loo-m.  run,  though  I  made  my  usual  calls  diuing  the  day.  Within  an 
interval  of  52}  h.,  therefore,  I  had  wheeled  178  m.,  measured  by  McDonnell  cyclometer ;  which 
was  perhaps  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, 1 
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,  5J  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  9^  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 
(4I  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  4I  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,  34J  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 
myall-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* 

iFrom  The  Bkyclmg  World,  Nov.  a6,  1880,  p.  37. 


LONG  ISLAND  AND  STA  TEN  ISLAND.  15 1 

erty ;  bat  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  drank  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  |^o  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  15  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  madb  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, 
131  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  120m.  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  Amityville  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  m. ;  Norwich,  2J  m. ;  Roslyn,  6J  m. ;  hotel  on  hill 
at  Maohassett,  3  m. ;  macadam  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  i  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,  f  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,  15  m.;  from  Mattituck  to  Green- 
port,  12  m.;  and  from  Flushing  to  llittle  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 'a  sidewalk  business  in  the  dust,  3  m.,  to  the  Douglass  Hotel  in  Amity- 
ville,  at  7  r.  M.,  mnking  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  I  think  it  inferior  to  the  Hicksville-Farmingdale  route. 

Starting  next  morning  at  6.15,  I  rode  to  Babylon  (5J  m.,  50  min.),  and 
stopped   an  hour  for  breakfast.    Then  through  Bay  Shore,  Islip,    SayviUe, 

iFrm  TAi-  Bii^Hng  W^rU,  July  a8,  i88a,  p.  463. 


LONG  ISLAND  AND  STATEN  ISLAND,  153 

Patchogue,  and  Bellport  to  Brookhaven  at  145  P.  M.,  25  m.  of  smooth  and  pleas- 
aot  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  42^  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 
Amityville  just  20  m. ;  then  turned  off  to  the  r.  for  Farmingdale,  4}  m. ;  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  1.30  p.  m.  Stopping  there  \  h.  for  dinner  at 
the  Grand  Central  Hotel,  a  ride  of  20  min.  took  me  to  the  hotel  in  Jericho, 
z\  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.  Tlience  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.^ 

lThi«  day's  ride  of  50  m.  has  been  aHuded  to  in  previous  chapters  (pp.  la,  54,  63),  as  proba^ 
biy  supplying  the  severest  physical  ^est  of  any  of  my  wheeling  experiences,  because  such  intense 
heat  as  prerailed  then  had  not  been  known  on  the  Atlantic  slope  for  a  period  of  seven  years, 
and  noChii^  equal  to  it  can  be  found  in  the  atmospheric  records  of  the  four  years  which  have 
sfaioe  elapsed.  The  fact  that  a  man  of  average  physique  like  myself  could  escape  un- 
harmed frmn  a  50-m.  run,  beneath  the  scorching  sunshine  of  "  the  hottest  day  in  eleven  years," 
seens  frorth  insisting  upon  as  a  prroof  of  the  healthfulness  of  the  exercise  under  proper  condi- 
tiotw.  In  the  eighth  chapter,  "Around  New  York"  (pp.  90-91,  87-88),  I  have  described  the 
nrates  coDoecting  Jamaica  with  that  city  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  mape  of  Long  Iiland  (p.  99>.  Still 
another  one,  "  just  completed  after  two  years'  labor,'*  U  advertised  as  "the  most  elaborate  map 
of  the  island  ever  made."  It  is  published  by  Gaylord  Watson,  278  Pearl  st.,N.Y.(si  by  a/  iii.,^3), 
and  would  doubtless  prove  useful  on  the  wall  of  any  local  dub^xxim.  A  dearly  engraved  little 
map  (31  by  7  in.,  6  m.  to  I  in.),  which  may  be  easily  tucked  into  the  smallmf  podcetpbook,  aooom- 
panies  the  pamphlet,  "  Long  Island  of  To-day,"  which  was  copyrighted  in  18S4  by  Chazlee  M. 
Heald,  general  traffic  manager  of  the  Long  Island  Railroad,  with  the  idea  of  increasing  the 
traffic  of  that  road  by  an  alluring  presentation  of  the  island's  attractions.  The  book  is  an  octavo 
of  100  pp.,  exdunve  of  30  pp.  of  advertisements,  and  containa  nearly  50  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  £.  Ralph,  of  the  New  York  .^Mfi,"  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  country  road  in  America — the  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  renaxk- 
able  one  in  the  United  States  :  I  mean  the  macadamized  roadway  which  stretches  straig^ 
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  dian 
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,  is  the  compiler'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  bicyde  shall  be 
carried  free,  as  personal  baggage,  provided  he  himself  puts  it  on  and  takes  it  <^  the  car. 
"  Long  Island  of  To-day  "  is  endosed  in  an  illuminated  paper  cover  of  tasteful  de«gn  (with 
vignettes  showing  the  characteristic  pastimes  of  the  placx,  one  of  which  is  "  bicycling  "),  and  no 
tourist  thither  should  begrudge  the  25  c.  requisite  for  the  purchase  of  this  valuable  gulde4xiok. 

The  earliest  recorded  day's  ride  of  100  m.  throi;^h  Long  Island  was  described  in  the  Whad 
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  boastfuk 
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  3}  h  ;  thence, 
after  a  stop  of  35  min.,  to  Patchogue,  where  a  halt  was  made  for  breakfast  from  9.20  to  10  3a 
There  began  the  worst  38  m.  of  the  tour,  of  which  18  m.  were  a  desert  of  sand.  In  crossing 
from  Quogue,  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  i  h.  at  the  Griffin  House  in  Riverhead,  a  start  was  made  at  5.15  on  the 
last  22  m.  of  the  course,  which  was  finished  at  Greenport  at  7.05  p.  m.,  14^  h.  after  leaving 
Hempstead, — ^the  Mattituck  Hotel  having  been  passed  i  h.  before."  The  only  other  ^milar  tour 
which  I  have  yet  heard  of  was  taken  June  28,  '84,  by  two  unattached  members  of  the  League, 
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  6.45  p.  M.  The  weather  was  cool,  but  the  n.  e.  wind  was  against  us  all  the  way.  Our 
longest  suy  in  the  saddle  was  from  the  start  to  Babylon  (27  m.),  a  little  more  than  3  h.;  and  the 
roads  continued  in  very  fair  coDdition  for  23  m.  further,  to  Patchogue.  From  there  to  West- 
hampton  they  were  very  sandy,  and  thence  to  Riverhead  (7}  m.)  the  sand  is  ankle-deep  and  en- 
forces walking  for  at  least  2-3  the  way.  The  road  from  Riverhead  to  Greenport  is  fair  for  the 
first  6  or  8  m.,  but  for  the  last  14  or  16  m.  it  is  unusually  fine ;  in  fact,  for  a  dirt  road,  one  of 


LONG  ISLAND  AND  STATEN  ISLAND. 


.155 


the  very  best  we  have  ever  riddra  over.  We  had  been  riding  for  about  three  years,  but  had 
never  '  trained '  a  minute  for  anything,  as  we  go  to  the  city  for  business  every  day ;  and  our 
fresh  condition  at  the  finish  was  amply  a  surprise  to  us.  lliere  was  no  blister  or  mark  on  oar 
bodies  to  remind  us  of  the  ride ;  and  we  are  positive  that,  if  daylight  and  good  roads  had  con- 
tinned,  we  ooiikl  have  wheeled  at  least  50  m.  further.  Our  longest  rests  were  %,  h.  at  Patchogue 
and  ^  h.  at  Riverhead,  though  we  made  many  short  stops  for  lemonade  or  soda,  without  keep- 
in^  any  record  of  them.  The  slight  stiffness  which  we  felt,  next  morning,  passed  off  after  a  few 
minutes  in  the  saddle."  I  may  add  that  a  Flushing  correspondent  assures  me  (May  12,  '8$)  that 
though  the  macadam  between  that  place  and  Little  Neck  has  not  been  repaired  since  my  trial  of 
it  in  'Sz,  "  on  the  hottest  day  in  eleven  years,"  it  continues  fairly  ridable  during  the  spring  and 
early  summer ;  and  that  local  riders  do  not  then  have  much  difficulty  in  getting  over  it  without 
dismount.  "  Southampton  and  Bridgehampton  have  ao  m.  of  handsome  inke,"  said  a  resident 
of  NorthvUle  {U^'heelman^  Dec,  *8a,  p.  217),  who  started  thither  by  riding  from  his  home  to 
ICattituck,  5  m.,  without  stop,  and  taking  steamer  at  Greenport  for  i  h.'s  ride  to  Sag  Harbor. 
"  From  there  to  Bridgehampton,  3  of  the  4  m.  are  ridable ;  the  next  6  m.  to  Southampton  are 
first-dass ;  also  am.  to  the  ocean,  e.  of  Silver  Lake,  and  the  return  on  the  w.  side  of  the  same. 
Between  the  village  and  Shinnecodc  hills,  a  m.,  we  had  a  fine  sidewalk  run."  Quogue  is  only 
8  or  9  m.  w.  of  these  hills ;  and  the  environs  of  Southampton  supply  much  excellent  riding. 

Loc^  Island  is  described  in  "  Appletons*  Dictionary  of  New  York  "  as  a  narrow,  fish-shaped 
strip,  separated  from  the  mainland  of  Connecticut  by  the  Sound  on  the  n.,  and  washed  by  the 
ocean  on  the  s.  Its  greatest  length  from  w.  to  e.  is  115  m.,  and  its  average  breadth,  n.  to  s., 
13  m.  "  The  head  of  the  fish  "  forms  the  eastern  shore  of  New  York  harbor ;  the  back  extends 
opposite  the  mainland ;  the  tail,  broken  into  several  flanges  by  bays  and  inlets,  is  the  eastern  ex- 
tremity ;  while  the  belly,  protected  from  the  fury  of  the  waves  by  the  Great  South  B^ch, 
stretches  in  an  almost  s}rmmetrical  line  from  Coney  Island  to  Montauk  Point.  Along  the  n.  shore 
there  is  a  narrow  ridge  of  hills  called  the  backbone,  but  the  remainder  of  the  island  slopes  grad- 
ually to  the  ocean.  The  s.  shore  is  one  immense  sand-bank,  separated  from  the  island  proper  for 
nearly  its  entire  length  by  inlets  from  the  ocean,  the  largest  of  which  is  the  Great  South  Bay, 
which  extends  for  100  m.  without  a  break  behind  the  beach  of  the  same  name,  which  is  at  no 
point  more  than  5  m.  wide.  Rockaway  and  Coney  Island  beaches,  whose  nearness  to  the  city 
has  rendered  them  famous  as  summer  resorts,  are  only  western  extensions  of  the  Great  South 
Beach.  The  island's  area  is  1,682  sq.  m.,  and  its  population  about  750,000,  of  which  }  are 
within  the  city  limits  of  Brooklyn.  Its  soil  is  fertile  except  near  the  sandy  s.  shore ;  and  its  re- 
semblance in  shape  to  a  salmon  is  specially  marked  in  the  bird's-eye  view  which  forms  a  frontis- 
piece to  the  book,  "  Long  Island  of  Tonlay."  Its  w.  end  approaches  within  i  m.  of  the  east- 
ernmost point  of  Siaten  Island,  and  the  two  thus  form  "  the  Narrows,"  through  which  en- 
trance is  made  to  New  York  harbor.*  Staten  Island  has  the  shape  of  an  irregular  triangle,  whose 
base,  n.,  is  separated  from  New  Jersey  by  the  Kill  van  Kull  and  Newark  bay ;  its  shortest  side, 
w.,  is  still  nearer  New  Jersey,  the  separation  caused  by  Staten  Island  Sound  being  rarely  more 
than  ^  m.;  while  its  longest  side,  e.  and  s.,  is  bounded  by  New  York  harbor  and  the  lower  bay. 
Its  greatest  length  is  13  m.,  greatest  breadth,  8  m.$  area,  60  sq.  m.,  and  population,  40,000.  It 
is  very  hilly,  and  its  outer  shores  are  almost  everywhere  dotted  with  the  villas  of  business  and 
professional  men,  who  go  to  New  York  daily  for  their  work.  The  hospital-ship  of  the  quaran- 
tine station  is  anchored  off  the  s.  shore  of  the  island ;  the  forts  and  batteries  of  the  e.  shore 
command  the  approaches  to  the  city ;  and  the  Sailors'  Snug  Harbor,  facing  the  n.  shore,  is  an 
asyhm  for  aged  and  infirm  seamen,  whose  extensive  buildings  challenge  the  attention  of  the 
passer-by.  They  have  ample  accommodations  for  1,000  inmates,  the  grounds  attached  amount 
to  160  acres,  and  the  annual  revenue  for  the  maintenance  of  the  establishment  is  about  $250,000. 
The  only  raflway  of  the  island  follows  its  longest  side,  about  i  m.  inland,  from  Tompkinsville 
(at  its  n.  e.  comer,  which  is  nearest  to  New  York,  6  m.)  to  Tottenville,  at  its  s.  w.  comer, 
vrfaence  a  ferryboat  crosses  houriy  to  Perth  Amboy,  N.  J.  The  island  forms  Richmond  County, 
and  the  county  town  of  that  name  is  about  midway  between  the  terminal  towns  of  the  railroad, 
and  I  m.  disUnt  from  it  at  Court  House  Station. 


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  Wadswoith,  i^  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  Bull'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  i  J  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  3J  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),  ^^^^  ^^  Vvadi  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  nu  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 

toothenimost  or  the  westernmost  landing,  though  this  is  not  important. 
From  Port  Richmond  a  ferry-boat  runs  at  brief  intervals  to  Bergen  Point, 
on  the  main  land,  and  I  was  told  that  there  was  a  good  macadam  road  there, 
though  my  infonnant  could  not  say  that  it  continued  smooth  all  the  way  to 
Jersey  City.  For  an  afternoon's  ride  of  from  10  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, 
'Si,  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  {\\  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  of  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, 

ofiEer  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.* 


An  admirable  pocket  map  of  Staten  Island,  on  the  large  scale  of  ^  m.  to  i  in.  (1884,  dieet 
33  by  28  in.,  folded  in  cloth  cover,  ^i),  puUisbed  by  the  Coltons,  18a  William  St.,  N.  Y.,  shows 
all  the  roads  with  great  plainness,  as  well  as  the  hills  and  swamps.  There  are  wide  stretches  ol 
these  on  the  w.  side,  as  well  as  in  New  Jersey,  just  opposite ;  and  the  map  e^'bits  a  13-01.  sec- 
tion of  that  State,  including  the  towns  of  Perth  Amboy,  Woodbridge,  Rahway,  RoseOe,  Elisa- 
beth and  Bayonne.  The  w.  end  of  Long  Island  is  also  shown,  as  well  as  "  mile  cirdes,"  reck* 
oned  from  the  dty  hall  in  New  York,— Tottenville,  in  the  s.  w.  comer,  being  thus  designated  as 
19  m.  distant.  "  The  Staten  Island  Rapid  Transit  Railroad  "  appears  on  the  map  as  skining 
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  14m.);  but  I  suppose  the  actual  constraction 
of  the  line  is  a  thing  of  the  future.  The  island's  "  reported  roads  "  are  shown  in  a  chart  (3^  l^ 
si  in.,  4  m.  to  I  in.)  of  Wood's  road-book,  of  which  a  full  account  may  be  foond  on  pw  177.  A 
similar  map  of  Long  Island  (10  m.  to  z  in.),  corering  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  vfaidi 
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  Northpott 
(through  Camac,  Smithtown  and  Setauket)  is  called  "level  and  fairly  ridable."  The  same  ad- 
jectives are  appKed  in  the  same  book  to  the  loam  rood  on  Staten  Island  connecting  TottenviOe 
with  the  macadam  at  New  Dorp  (10  m.).  Througli  traveleiv  from  Philadelphia  who  take  the  in- 
land route  as  far  as  Elizabeth,  are  advised  by  the  guide  that  "  a  short  and  comfortable  tenm- 
nation  of  the  run  may  be  had  by  wheeling  a  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  ishmd  from  Elizabethport  by  raw- 
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 ;  for  my  own  second  ride  on  the  island,  though  taken  on  a  cool  day  late  in  the  season 
(Sept.  IS,  '82),  found  so  many  of  them,  even  on  the  sununit  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  focget  the  futQe  forays  made  there 
by  Generals  Sullivan  (1777)  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,  1776),  notable 
as  the  first  struggle  that  followed  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  A  description  of  it,  by  J. 
W.  Chadwick,  with  illustratwns  and  map,  may  be  found  in  Harpn^t  Atagaamt  for  August, 
1876,  pp.  333-346.  The  result  of  the  battle  gave  New  York  City  into  the  keeping  of  the  Britiifa 
until  independence  was  really  won ;  and  the  shores  of  these  three  islands  ultimately  looked  \spoa 
the  final  act  in  that  great  drama,  on  the  "evacuation  day  "  (Nov.  25,  1783),  when  the  last  de* 
parting  transports  of  the  defeated  "  armed  invaders  *'  disappeared  forever  down  the  Narnms. 


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  ti^ 
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 

iFrm  Tkt  fFJktebman,  Jone,  1883,  pp.  215-aai. 


i6o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Montclair.  These  two  diverging  avenues  do  not  in  fact  meet  at  the  bridge, 
but  begin  at  points  which  are  about  i  m.  distant  from  it,  on  the  s.  and  the  n.  ; 
and  good  riding  on  them,  as  one  goes  out  of  Newark,  does  not  begin  until  the 
top  of  the  first  hill  has  been  reached.  The  road  which  forms  the  third  and 
longest  side  of  the  triangle  is  neither  as  straight  nor  as  smooth  as  the  other 
two,  for  only  that  section  of  it  which  is  called  the  Orange  Valley  road,  extend- 
ing northward  along  the  base  of  Orange  Mountain,  from  South  Orange  to  the 
northern  border  of  Llewellyn  P%rk,  about  4  m.,  is  macadamized.  The  pro- 
longation of  the  Valley  road  southward  from  South  Orange  leads  up-hill,  and 
is  a  fairly  good  dirt  track  of  nearly  3  ro.,  till  it  completes  the  angle  by  meet- 
ing the  macadamized  prolongation  of  Springfield  av.,  at  a  brook  just  east  of 
Wyoming.  An  inspection  of  the  map  would  seem  to  show  that  the  other 
angle  might  be  nicely  completed  by  following  the  direct  road  northward  from 
Llewellyn  Park  till  it  meets  Bloomfield  av.  on  the  hill  in  Montclair ;  but  as 
this  would  require  contact  with  much  sand  and  clay,  the  road  really  to  be 
chosen  is  the  one  running  eastward  to  Watsessing,  whence  Bloomfield  av.  is 
reached,  and  so  Bloomfield  and  Montclair. 

Within  this  8-m.  triangle,  and  having  the  same  general  course  as  the  two 
broad  avenues  which  help  enclose  it,  are  three  other  similar  roadways,  which 
begin  in  Newark,  and  are  terminated  by  the  Valley  road  at  the  foot  of  Orange 
mountain.  South  Orange  av.  is  the  longest  and  most  winding,  but  its  course 
is  much  like  that  of  Springfield  av.  Park  av.  is  the  shortest  and  straightest, 
the  3  m.  of  it  between  the  railroad  crossing  and  the  main  entrance  of  Llewel- 
15m  Park  seeming  to  lie  in  a  bee-line.  Central  av.  keeps  parallel  to  the  one  last- 
named  for  its  entire  length,  and  lies  about  i  m.  to  the  s.  of  it.  It  is  really  the 
central  one  of  the  five  main  lines  described  as  diverging  in  a  westward  direc- 
tion from  an  imaginary  point  of  meeting  at  the  bridge ;  and,  if  there  be  any 
need  of  making  choice  between  paths  which  are  all  so  pleasant  for  riding 
over,  it  may,  perhaps,  be  called  the  best.  Main  St.,  through  which  run  the 
horse-car  tracks,  is  midway  between  Park  and  Central  avs.  and  parallel  to 
them ;  and  it  is  macadamized  for  3  m.  or  more  from  its  starting-point  at  the 
Valley  road.  The  four  most  important  of  the  cross  or  connecting  streets, 
which  may  be  roughly  described  as  parallel  to  this  western  border  of  the  tri- 
angle, and  running  in  a  n.  and  s.  direction,  are  the  following,  named  in  the 
order  in  which  one  meets  them  in  riding  out  Park  av.  from  Newark:  (i) 
Grove  St.,  which  extends  s.  to  Central  av. ;  (2)  Arlington  av.,  which  extends  to 
Central  av. ;  (3)  Park  st.,  which  goes  to  Main  st.,  whence,  a  few  rods  west, 
Harrison  st.  serves  as  a  continuation  of  it  across  Central  av.  to  Centre  St.,  by 
which  a  return  may  be  made  back  across  the  avenue  to  Main  st.  again.  Har- 
rison St.  extends  to  South  Orange  av.,  and  so  does  Munn  av.,  next  east  of 
Arlington  av. ;  but  the  last  few  rods  of  each  extension  are  unpaved.  The  most 
easterly  connection  between  Park  and  Central  avs.  is  through  Roseville  av.,  . 
whose  macadam  is  not  specially  good.  Roseville  av.  also  crosses  Sussex  av., 
which  is  parallel  to  Central,  and  macadamized  for  i  m.  or  less.     Another  ini- 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS,  i6r 

poitant  path  is  Prospect  St.,  going  northward  from  Main  St.,  for  i}  m.,  to  con- 
nect with  the  Watsessing  road  to  Bloomfield  av. 

Almost  all  of  the  numerous  lesser  streets  in  and  around  Orange  are  mac- 
adamized ;  and  within  the  triangle  outlined  by  me  there  must  be,  at  least,  50 
m.  of  this  so-called  Telford  pavement,  whose  smoothness,  when  kept  in  good 
condition,  as  most  of  it  is,  could  hardly  be  improved  by  **  sand-paper."  I 
hope  my  description  has  made  plain  the  truth,  that  a  bicycler  may  so  lay  out 
his  route  through  these  connecting  roads  as  to  ride  very  many  miles  without 
repetitions,  and  even  without  leaving  the  saddle.  I  myself  kept  in  continuous 
motion  there  for  3J  h.,  Nov.  2,  1882,  and  made  a  cyclometer  record  of  29  m. 
If  pleasure  be  sought  in  the  sight  of  well-trimmed  lawns  and  fine  houses  in 
great  variety,  it  can  be  sought  most  successfully  at  Orange,  But  the  charac- 
teristic bicycular  attraction  of  my  "8-m.  triangle"  is  the  coasting,  for  which 
all  the  avenues,  and  most  of  the  streets  that  have  been  paved,  offer  extraor- 
dinary facilities ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  none  of  the  grades  are  very  hard 
to  surmount  All  the  change  and  variety  which  are  supplied  or  implied  by 
hil!  and  dale,  forest  and  plain,  shade  and  sunlight,  human  stir  and  desert  soli- 
tude, may  be  had  within  the  limits  described ;  and  the  extensive  views  of 
land  and  water  which  are  obtainable  from  the  highest  roads  of  the  *'  triangle  " 
are  fine  and  refreshing  enough  to  amply  repay  the  trouble  of  ascending  them. 

Higher, than  any  of  these,  or,  at  least,  steeper,  is  the  last  stretch  of  road 
leading  to  Eagle  Rock,  whence  the  finest  view  of  all  may  be  had,  and  whence 
the  bicycler  may  coast  continuously  for  i  J  m.,  or  almost  exactly  to  the  point 
where,  in  coming  up  the  Valley  road  from  the  other  direction,  he  must  turn 
to  the  right,  as  before  described,  in  order  to  reach  Watsessing  and  Bloom- 
field  av.  In  other  words,  a  person  going  northward  along  the  Valley  road  has 
simply  to  follow  the*  macadamized  continuation  of  it,  as  it  turns  up-hill  and 
forms  the  northern  border  of  Llewellyn  Park,  in  order  to  reach  the  summit  in 
question.  "  Ixion "  prints  interesting  letters  (in  the  Wheel  and  Bt\  Warldy 
April  27, 1883),  describing  his  recent  ascent  to  Eagle  Rock  on  a  44-in.  "  Facile," 
and  his  coast  down  therefrom  upon  the  same  in  less  than  three  minutes.  I 
agree  with  him  in  the  expressed  belief  that  no  bicycle  had  previously  been 
propelled  to  that  summit,  and  that  his  exploit  was  a  good  test  of  the  remark- 
able powers  of  the  Facile  as  a  hill-climber.  My  own  single  visit  to  the  rock 
was  made  on  the  1 5th  of  last  November ;  and,  though  I  toiled  up  the  lower 
grades  in  the  saddle,  with  a  few  stops  for  taking  breath,  the  last  steep  pitch 
at  the  summit  was  quite  beyond  my  powers.  I  took  seven  minutes,  rather 
than  three,  in  coasting  back,  for  I  always  indulge  in  that  sport  cautiously ; 
though,  after  the  first  sharp  comer  has  been  safely  turned,  the  track  in  ques- 
tion seems  free  from  danger. 

The  macadamized  extension  of  Bloomfield  av.  is  not,  in  fact,  terminated 

by  the  hill  at  Montclair, — though,  as  riders  often  turn  about  at  that  point,  I 

have  made  it  serve  as  one  comer  of  the  8-m.  triangle  described, — but  reaches 

OR  to  Verona,  Caldwell  and  Franklin  (there  are  two  other  hamlets  called 

11 


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 
o£E  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,  188 1,  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  corner  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,  Milbum 
at  11.30,  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  7^  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  croa8-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  min.    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  L,  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- 
ing 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 
1 1^  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 
view  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 
Blairstown,  Johnsonburg,  Alamoochy,  Waterloo,  Stanhope,  Drakesville,  Mc-  / 

Cainsville,  Dover,  Rockaway,  Denville,  and  P/rsippany,  I  found  most  of  the        ^y 
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  ainfed  for  Morristown.    The  best  course  between  NenF 


i64         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ark  and  that  city  is  by  way  of  Springfield  av. ;  but  the  one  by  way  of  Bloom- 
field  av.,  Pine  Brook»  Hanover,  and  Whippany,  is  also  to  be  recommended  as 
part  of  a  round  trip^.  I  never  descended  the  stretch  of  i)  m.  from  St.  Cloud 
to  Orange,  but  I  know  it  must  be  fine  for  coasting.    (See  p.  175.) 

Two  additional  paths,  connecting  the  Newark  and  Orange  system  of 
roadways  with  the  Hudson  river,  have  been  explored  by  me  as  follows:  On 
the  4th  of  May,  1882,  under  the  inspiration  of  one  of  "  Ixion's  "  reports,  I 
made  a  tour  to  Pompton  and  Paterson,  turning  off  from  the  macadam  of 
Bloomfield  av.  (just  above  the  post-office)  in  Verona,  and  riding  due  n. 
without  a  stop  for  more  than  2  m.,  or  until  I  began  the  descent  of  the  hill  be^ 
yond  the  ravine  at  Cedar  Grove.    After  that  the  road  grew  rougher  and 

IThe  Elizabeth  Wheelmen  (organized  June  7,  1883,  and  quartered  at  116  Broad  st)  reported 
20,000  m.  as  the  aggregate  mileage  of  the  50  members'  road-records  during  1884,  thootgh  more 
than  half  the  men  had  never  moimted  a  bicycle  before  July.  The  highest  record  (about  3^000 
m.)  was  made  on  a  Star  machine  by  the  dub-bugler,  A.  S.  Roorbach,  an  artist,  who  freqaeady 
chooses  rough  and  out-of-the-way  routes,  for  the  sake  of  securing  sketches,  and  whose  most 
notable  excursion  of  the  year  (as  reported  in  the  fVkeel,  Oct.  3,  '84)  contains  the  following  &cu : 
"  The  trip  to  the  Delaware  Water  Gap  was  uken  with  comparative  ease,  Danville  (47  m.)  be- 
ing reached  in  12I  h.  Starting  on  again  at  7.15  the  next  morning,  I  reached  the  Gap  at  a  p.  m. 
(t8  m.),  amd  after  spending  a  day  and  a  half  there,  started  for  Elizabeth  on  Monday,  Av^.  18,  at 
6.52  A.  M.,  with  the  intention  of  reaching  home,  if  possible,  that  day.  My  total  time  for  the  67I 
m.  from  the  Gap  to  Elizabeth,  was  15  h.  33  min.,  of  which  2  h.  s  min.  was  taken  for  rests, 
leaving  13  h.  28  min.  actual  running  time,  giving  an  actual  rate  while  in  motion,  of  5  m.  an  boor. 
Beyond  Morristown,  the  outward  route  led  through  Walnut  Grove,  si^  in-»  of  short  bits  of 
riding  and  walking;  Sackasunny, .7  m.,  of  which  only  the  first  two  and  the  last  were  ridable; 
Flanders,  4  m.,  of  fairly  level  roads  or  side-paths  with  some  sandy  spots  (beautiful  scenery); 
Bartleyville,  i  m.  of  good,  level  road ;  Drakestown,  4  m.,  half  of  it  through  a  highly-pictucesqoe, 
winding  goiige,  on  an  up-grade,  fairly  ridable ;  Hackettstown,  i  m.  of  down-grade,  too  steep  for 
sure  riding;  Vienna,  5  m.,  first  half  of  it  up-and-down,  too  steep  for  wheeling,  then  a  final  mile 
of  coasting ;  Danville,  i  m.  of  ridable  surface,  fairly  level ;  Hope,  5  m. ,  with  2^  m.  of  walking 
over  the  rough  ore-roads  of  Jenny  Jump  mountain ;  through  Mt.  Hermon,  Centerville  and 
Knowlton  to  Columbia,  7  m.  of  rough  and  hilly  road,  with  some  good  stretches ;  thenoe  to  the 
finish  at  the  Water  Gap  ferry,  6  m.  of  deep  sand,  not  allowing  \  m.  of  wheeling.  On  the  return 
journey,  I  took  the  w.  side  of  the  river  to  Portland,  6  m.,  hilly,  sandy  and  stony,  allowing  about 
i  of  wheeling;  thence  to  Mt.  Harmon,  5  m.  in  i\  h.,  and  thence  homeward  by  the  outward  route, 
to  Morristown  at  6.30  p.  m.,  43^  m.  from  the  Gap.  From  Milbum  I  took  the  longer  route 
through  Irvington,  as  it  was  then  too  dark  to  try  the  side-paths  of  the  Morris  turnpike  dixwtly 
to  Elizabeth  through  Springfield.  Between  Morristown  and  the  Gap  ther«  were  very  few  miles 
which  did  not  require  some  hard  pedestrianism ;  but,  on  the  whole,  I  was  amply  rewarded,  from 
an  artist's  point  of  view  for  my  straightaway  cut  across  the  mountains."  With  this  maybe  com- 
pared a  notable  six  days'  run  of  345  m.,  ending  Saturday,  Oct.  25,  '84,  and  reported  in  the  BL 
H^orldoi  Oct.  31  :  "  R.  D.  Mead,  Captain  of  the  Essex  Bicycle  Qub,  rode  on  Monday  week 
from  Newark  to  Milford,  70  m.,  through  Dover,  Branchville  and  Dingman's  Ferry ;  on  Tuesday, 
through  Delaware  Water  Gap,  to  Mt.  Hope,  47  m. ;  on  Wednesday,  through  Hadkettstown  and 
Morristown  to  Newark,  56  m. ;  on  Thursday,  through  Plainfield,  Somerville  and  Trenton  to 
Bristol,  75  m. ;  on  Friday,  through  Philadelphia  and  towards  Lancaster,  61  m.;  and,  on  Saturday, 
a  part  of  the  way  to  Newark,  36  m.  This  extraordinary  riding,  crossing  New  Jersey  on  three 
courses,  was  accomplished  with  the  roads  in  a  terribly  rough  condition,  and  deep  with  the  dust 
from  the  long-continued  drought.  Messrs.  Harris  and  Sargeant  of  the  same  club,  accompanied 
Mr.  Mead  on  the  ride  to  Philadelphia."  • 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS.  165 

sandier,  and  I  was  \  h.  in  doing  the  1}  m.  ending  at  Little  Falls.  In  order 
to  reach  that  village  I  turned  aside  from  the-  direct  route  for  Pompton,  resum- 
ing it  again  at  Singac,  i^  m.  up  the  Passaic  river,  which  I  there  crossed.  The 
road  down  the  river  from  Little  Falls  to  Paterson,  about  4  m.,  was  said  to  be 
very  good,  but  I  have  not  yet  tried  it.  From  the  bridge  at  Singac  to  the  rail- 
road crossing  at  Mountain  View,  2^  m.,  the  path  is  perfectly  straight,  and  I 
was  f  h.  in  reaching  the  last-named  point  from  Little  Falls.  The  side-paths 
were  generally  preferable  to  the  roadway  for  the  next  3  m.,  which  I  covered 
in  \  h.,  during  which  the  powder-mills  near  Wayne  were  passed  on  the  left. 
Instead  of  keeping  to  the  direct  road  northward,  which  would  have  led  to 
Norton's  Hotel,  I  now  crossed  the  bridge  over  Pompton  river,  and  rode  i  m. 
westward  to  Pequannock,  turning  there  sharply  to  the  r.  and  going  due  n.  in 
a  bee-line  through  the  village  of  Pompton  Plains,  and  so  e.  again  to  Pompton 
and  Norton's  Hotel.  The  distance  from  the  bridge  was  just  5  m.,  and  I  was 
50  min.  in  doing  it.  Smooth  and  level  sidewalks  for  almost  the  entire  way 
made  this  the  swiftest  and  pleasantest  spin  of  the  trip.  Leaving  the  hotel  at 
4.45  o'clock,  I  proceeded  to  work  my  way  across  an  almost  uninhabited 
region  of  sandy  and  stony  hills,  with  an  occasional  shower  of  rain  to  en- 
courage me,  until  I  reached  the  village  of  Haledon ;  and,  about  i  m.  beyond 
this,  I  began  a  sharp  descent  into  Paterson,  and  crossed  the  Passaic  (by  the 
bridge  nearest  the  line  of  the  Erie  Railway)  at  6.30.  The  distance  from 
Pompton  was  nearly  9  m.,  and  as  I  had  to  walk  at  least  a  third,  or  perhaps  a 
half,  of  it,  I  do  not  specially  commend  the  route.  Having  ridden  i  h.  or  more 
in  the  forenoon,  before  branching  out  from  Verona,  my  day's  record,  includ- 
ing a  final  mile  on  the  Paterson  macadam,  was  41  m. 

Three  days  later  I  took  my  wheel  from  the  Pickwick  House  in  that  city, 
where  it  had  been  safely  guarded  by  big  bales  of  unspun  silk,  and  started  due 
e.  for  Hackensack.  From  the  bridge  over  the  Passaic  the  course  was  n.  e.  for 
2  m.  straight,  and  then  s.  e.  for  twice  that  distance, — the  last  3  m.  being  in  a 
bee-line.  The  only  hamlet  on  the  way  is  Areola,  where  Saddle  river  is 
crossed,  soon  after  turning  the  angle  from  n.  to  s.  The  track  thus  described 
leads  up  and  down  a  succession  of  parallel  ridges  or  hills,  and,  though  much 
of  the  roadway  is  sandy,  I  found  the  side-paths  generally  ridable  for  short 
stretches;  and  I  was  i  h.  40  min.  in  doing  the  distance.  Red  clay  was  the 
material  of  the  final  ridge  or  hill  from  which  I  descended  into  Hackensack, 
and  the  view  of  the  river  and  valley  of  that  name,  which  was  enjoyed  before 
making  the  descent,  was  a  rather  pretty  one.  Going  south  from  here  by  a 
good  macadamized  turnpike  for  2|  m.,  I  crossed  the  river  at  the  Freiburg 
bridge,  just  beyond  which  run  two  parallel  railroad  lines ;  i  m.  to  the  e.  I 
reached  the  longer  toll-bridge  spanning  Overpeck  creek,  and  then,  in  another 
\  m.,  the  Club  House  in  Ridgefield.  Just  i  m.  e.  from  this,  on  the  crest  of 
a  hill  280  ft.  high,  which  must  be  climbed  afoot,  the  tourist  will  begin  a  \ 
m.  descent  that  will  bring  him  to  the  top  of  the  Edgewater  hill,  whence  he  may 
descend  n.  to  the  level  of  the  Hudson,  and  ride  along  it  to  Fort  Lee,  2  m. 


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,  1881, 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  I  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  eictended  thence  nearly 
3  m.  toward  Newark.  When  the  macadam  ended,  I  followed  the  sidewalks 
of  the  same  avenue  ij^  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-^5)  to  those  upon  the  Jersey  shore; 
and  the  routes  from  the  130th  st.  ferry  to  Englewood  may  be  found  on  pp.81, 
84.  On  the  7th  of  May,  1883,  I  mounted  there  at  3  P.  M.  (having  preyioosiy 
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  1 
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,  2J  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  reached 
the  corner  of  Broadway  and  West  st,  in  Paterson,  14  m.  and  3  h.  from  the 

iThe  remainder  of  this  chapter  is  now  for  the  first  time  published. 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS,  167 

start  at  Englewood.  Crossing  the  West  st.  bridge,  I  turned  1.  up  the  hill, 
passed  the  soldiers'  monument  which  overlooks  Broadway,  and  then  descended 
1.  to  the  falls.  These  present  a  spectacle  well-worth  visiting  on  its  own  ac- 
count, and  they  also  have  a  certain  historic  interest  attaching  to  them  as  the 
scene  of  Sam  Patch's  demonstration'  that  "  some  things  can  be  done  as  well 
as  others."  Trundling  my  wheel  across  the  little  foot-bridge,  just  below  the 
one  off  which  he  used  to  jump  into  the  yawning  depths  beneath,  1  kept  along 
the  s.  bank  of  the  stream,  mostly  on  sidewalks  and  paths,  to  Lincoln  bridge  ; 
thence  in  roadway  to  bridge  under  r.  r. ;  thence  a  little  beyond  the  4-m.  plank 
to  the  canal  bridge  in  Little  Falls.  Crossing  this,  I  turned  L  to  the  second 
bridge,  which  I  did  not  cross,  but  followed  the  course  of  the  brook.  Dark- 
ness had  now  settled  down,  and  I  soon  made  a  needless  detour,  after  passing 
nnder  a  stone  culvert,  by  walking  up-hill  to  a  r.  r.  station  which  proved  to  be 
the  terminus  of  the  road.  I  walked,  in  fact,  nearly  all  of  the  way,  through 
Cedar  Grove,  until  at  last  I  reached  the  weJl-known  macadam  at  Verona 
post-office,  whence  I  wheeled  about  10  m.  without  stop,  to  the  end  of  Central 
av.  in  Newark,  at  10  o'clock,  with  a  day's  record  of  57  m.,  which  included 
34  m.  of  roads  never  previt)usly  visited,  and  10  m.  never  before  traversed  in 
the  same  direction.  The  parallel  road  on  the  n.  side  of  the  river,  from  Pater- 
son  to  Little  Falls,  was  said  to  be  ridable ;  and  my  earlier  ride  thence  to 
Pompton  has  been  described  on  p.  165. 

Four  days  afterwards  (May  11),  I  rode  from  Elizabeth  to  Rahway,  the 
distance  from  the  head  of  Frelinghuysen  av.,  in  the  former  town,  to  the  Far- 
mers' and  Mechanics'  Hotel,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  latter,  being  a  trifle  more 
than  6  m.  My  course  led  down  Broad  st.  to  the  court-house  and  Sheridan 
Hotel  (i  m.),  where  I  turned  r.,  and  soon  reached  St.  George's  av.,  leading 
s.  to  the  first-named  hotel.  It  continues  straight  on  from  there  to  Metuchen 
and  New  Brunswick,  whence  the  tow-path  is  said  to  supply  (on  Sundays, 
when  there  is  no  traffic)  excellent  riding  to  Bound  Brook, — the  distance  between 
each  of  the  four  towns  being  about  6  m.  At  the  hotel  I  turned  1.,  to  reach 
the  center  of  the  town,  and  I  completed  a  circuit  of  3  m.  before  arriving  at 
the  same  point  again.  From  there  I  returned  n.  for  1}  m.  without  stop,  to  a 
certain  point  where  I  took  the  plank  walk.  My  downward  ride  was  mostly 
done  on  this  walk,  with  frequent  stops  on  account  of  missing  planks.  Red 
clay  and  sand  made  this  course  a  rather  difficult  one,  and  its  character  was 
said  to  be  about  the  same  all  the  way  to  New  Brunswick.  I  tried  it  under 
rather  favorable  conditions ;  but  in  very  wet  or  very  dry  weather  I  presume 
it  would  be  unridable.  A  fortnight  later,  in  attempting  to  find  a  new  route 
home  to  the  city,  I  turned  n.  at  the  post "  8  m.  to  Paterson,"  near  the  Mansion 
House  in  Montclair,  and  proceeded  2  m.  along  a  hard,  graveled  road  to  a 
point  past  the  r.  r.  station  in  Upper  Montclair,  where  I  was  told  that  sand 
and  rough  clay  were  all  that  could  be  hoped  for  beyond.  So  I  made  my 
second  start  at  the  junction  of  Bloomfield  av.  with  Belleville  av.  in  Newark, 
and  proceeded  n.  along  the  sidewalk  of  the  latter  (whose  flagstones  are  con 


i68  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tinaous  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,  beyohd  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  \\  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  Weehawken, 
"  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. jo 
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  traffic ;  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  Revoluticnary  times  hy  that  part  of  Jersey  Gty 
where  now  stand  the  ferry-houses  of  the  Pennsylvania  railroad  and  Taylor's  Hotel  (p.  8a);  and 
*'  Marion,"  the  first  station  (3  m.)  on  that  road,  is  best  reached  by  going  along  the  sidewalk 
flags  of  Montgomery  av.,  parallel  to  it;  then  turning  1.  one  block  and  r.  three  blockB.  It  may 
be  reached  from  the  other  direction  by  turning  r.  soon  after  crossing  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  LifpiMcotfs  Magaxime^  July,  1884)  descripbve  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  same  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  Newi^k  to  a  vague  uncertainty,  all 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS,  169 

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  1.,  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  (dj  m.  from  A.) ;  but  be- 
fore reaching  Allendale  (2  m.)  the  ^rack  grows  hillier;  and  between  Ramseys* 
(2  m.)  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  corner  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  neict  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  i  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  Beigen,  too,  though  more  or  less  modified,  retain  the  primitive  arrangement  of  a  pali- 
saded village ;  and  here  and  there  along  them  are  architectural  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  ray  knowle^e  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 
oommamler  In  liberating  AndrA.  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  Viiginia  under 
CorawaUis  before  be  had  an  <^>portuttity  to  make  a  real  desertion." 


lyo  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  1.,  and  then  bore  around  to  r.,  riding  n.  through  the  village  of  Pompton 
Plains  to  place  (3  m.)  where  road  forks  r.  to  steelworks  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- 


lEcho  Lake,  at  Newfoundland,  is  only  about  6in.  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  following  directions 
for  route  :  "  From  Pompton,  go  to  Wanaque  and  Boardville,  turning  1.  at  foot  of  hill  within  loo 
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  hoars  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,  you  will  reach  Rockaway  (30  m.)  at  noon,  easy  riding,  and  can  get  a  good  50  c.  dinner  at 
the  hotel  directly  to  the  r.  after  crossing  the  canal.  There  is  considerable  sand  between  there  and 
Denville,  but  the  side-paths  are  fair ;  and,  by  taking  the  grass  at  side  of  road  between  DenviOe 
and  Fox  Hill,  a  rate  of  6  m.  an  hour  can  be  kept  up,  spite  of  sand  and  stones.  Thence  there  aie 
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  q)end  an  hour  or  two 
in  visiting  Clifton  Falls  ;  and,  while  you  are  at  the  Government  powder  works,  near  Middle  Forge, 
run  \  m.  1.  and  climb  Picadnny  peak,  the  view  from  whose  top  is  a  grand  one.  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 

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 
SnfiFem  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,  Tanytown  and  New  York,  a  circuit  of  530  m. 

An  interesting  report  of  their  tour  was  printed  in  Bu  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  Suffern  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  x  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  1}  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  (Vail's  Gate),  x^  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  scUbol-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  baim 
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  speciallj 
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  m.  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  Rahway,  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.,  540  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  Westficld 
(si  in.)  and  Plainfield  (4^  m.),  though  we  were  2}  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  ij  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  5J 
m.  in  3i  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  Harlingen,  4  m.     I  might  have  turned  here  to  r., 
but  I  did  turn  to  I.,  and  rode  up  a  big  hill  beyond.    After  crossing  the  r.  r. 
at  a  creamery  station  called  Venaken  (1}  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  ray  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  cither  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  paiallel  ranges  of  mountains,  though  not  very  near  them. 
Pennington,  23}  m.  from  the  start,  was  reached  at  1 1,  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  1.,  passed  the 
cemetery  on  l.»  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  downgrades  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 
Phiilipsburg,  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  z\  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  iir  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  1}  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,  'So) 
had  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  2I  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  x  h.)  and,  5  m.  beyond  there,  reached 
the  limit  of  my  previous  rides  w.  from  Morristovm.     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  ol  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  comer  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,  121 ;  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  pictiire  of  the  columns  (Julius  Bien's  lithographic  reprodoctioo  of  photographs 
taken  by  H.  J.  Brady,  of  Orange)  is  given  for  the  frontispiece  of  the  "  Report  for  1884  of  die 
State  Geologist,**  Professor  Geoige  H.  Cook,  who  sayt  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  the  top  of  the  mountain  is  one  of  the  finest  on  the  continent.*'  I  quote  the  fol- 
lowing from  his  Report,  pp.  aa,  23  :  "  The  remarkably  fine  exposure  of  columnar  trap^ock  at 
the  qiuury  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  fime  exhi- 
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  trap-rock,  and  then  working  m, 
as  he  has  had  occasion  to  do,  in  getting  out  bis  road4naking  material,  untD  he  has  exposed  a  ver- 
tical ^ux  of  the  rock,  which  is  700  ft.  long,  and  100  ft.  high  in  the  middle,  and  30  ft.  high  atone 
end,  and  about  20  ft  at  the  other.  The  whole  of  this  rock  siuiace  which  is  in  sight  is  made  up 
of  prismatic  coliunns  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  is  made  up  of  prisms,  which  ax«  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  frontispiece  is  taken  when  looking  towards  the  n.  w. ,  and 
is  near  enough  to  the  top  of  the  mounuun  to  show  its  crest  line,  with  the  ^^liimnt  «>*ftiMyfr^g  all 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS.  175 

point  a  little  below  Llewellyn  Park  and  a  little  above  the  terminus  of  Main 
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  o£  the  mountain,  connecting  the  Eagle  Rock  road  on  the  n.  (p.  161)  with 
the  Northfield  road  on  the  s.  (p.  163) ;  and  about  1  m.  further,  it  reaches  the 
dirt  or  gravel  road,  extending  through  the  lowlands  from  the  macadam  of 
Verona  (n.)  to  that  of  Milbum  (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  Milbum  or  Morristown,  because  it  ends  quite  near  the 
bead  of  Frelinghuysen  av. ;  and  this  "  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  nay  op.  At  the  bottom  the  oohnnim  appear  to  run  down  to  the  level  surface  which  is  kept  • 
for  the  oonvenient  working  of  the  quarry.  In  reality  they  do  extend  down  6  or  8  ft.  below  the 
level  of  the  working  ground,  and  stand  upon  the  red  sandstone  rock  which  everywhere  under- 
lies this  trap.  The  peipendicular  colunuois  at  the  left  hand  ot  s.  w.  end  of  the  quarry  are  30  ft 
or  more  in  heic^t,  auid  are  5  or  6  sided,  sonte  of  the  sides  being  as  much  as  a^  ft.  in  width. 
Those  at  the  right  hand  or  n.  e.  end  of  the  quarry  are  shorter,  15  to  20  it.  in  height,  and  a  little 
indiaed.  They  are  laiger,  however,  than  the  others,  some  of  them  having  sides  4  ft.  wide. 
These  very  large  columns  are  some  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  flexiUe.  The  surface  of  most  of  the  large  columns  are  marked  as  if  they  were  regularly 
hid  xxp  xa  courses  like  bricks  in  a  building.  These  courses  are  about  as  thick  as  common  bricks, 
and  have  aboot  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  first 
words  of  this  chapter,  written  two  years  ago,  gave  praise  to  the  first  fruits  of  the  State  Geological 
Survey,  so  now  at  the  end,  I  s^adly  give  place  to  extracts  from  its  latest  official  Report,  showing 
the  more  recent  progress  of  an  enterprise  in  which  every  intelligent  Jerseyman  ought  to  feel  a 
penonal  pride.  Within  three  years  from  now,  the  prospective  tourist  will  be  enabled  to  study 
the  entire  sor&oe  of  the  State  by  charts  of  the  same  scale  and  character  as  the  one  described  on 
p  159,  bat  of  the  more  oonvenient  sixe  of  34  by  34  in.  Julius  Bien  &  Co.,  of  this  city,  are  to  be 
accredited  with  the  careful  and  attractive  lithography  of  the  map,  which,  "  as  far  as  done,  meets 
widi  the  hearty  approval  of  all  who  have  seen  it " ;  and  the  power  of  a  good  example  is  notably 
shown  in  the  fact  (which  is  q)ecia11y  significant  and  encouraging  for  wheehnen)  that,  "  since  the 
n^  was  begun,  a  number  of  other  States  have  organised  surveys  for  similar  maps  of  their  ter- 


176  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ritory."  This  official  "  Atlas  of  New  Jersey  "  (on  a  scale  of  i  dl  to  i  in.,  with  cootoor  lines 
showing  every  rise  of  ao  ft.  elevation  in  the  hilly  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  37  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  ra.  to  i  in.)  is  to  be  added,  on  a  sheet  27  by  37  in.  The  apparent  overlappia^ 
of  the  adjacent  rectajigles  of  the  atlas  does  not  imply  an  increase  of  engraving,  as  the  printing  is 
not  done  directly  from  the  engraved  stones,  but  from  transfers,  whidi  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  Archaean  and 
Paleozoic  rocks ;  2,  3  and  4  cover  all  the  Arcluean  and  all  the  iron  ore  district ;  5,  6,  7  and  8 
cover  the  re<3  sandstone  formation ;  8  and  9,  with  zo,  i  z  and  12  a>ver  the  clay  and  marl  dtstrkts ; 
9,  13,  z6  and  17  cover  the  entire  Atlantic  shore.  Nos.  3,  4  and  7  were  issued  in  March,  1884 ; 
2,  16,  and  17  in  March,  1885 ;  i,  9,  13  and  17  will  be  ready  by  the  end  of  '85 ;  and  8,  zi,  12,  5, 
zo,  Z4  and  15  will  follow,  probably,  during  '86,  '87  and  '88.  The  Survey's  annual  report  for  *8s 
was  accompanied  by  a  geological  map  of  New  Jersey  (6  m.  to  z  in.),  revised  up  to  that  date; 
and  its  latest  corrections  were  named  as  "  adiUtional  railroads,  minor  improvements  in  geological 
coloring,  new  places  on  the  sea-shore  and  the  life-saving  stations."  The  State  Topogiaplier, 
C  Garkson  Vermeule,  reports  that  the  season's  work  of  '84  included  the  survey  of  z,582  sq.  m., 
making  the  whole  area  surveyed  4,438  sq.  m.,  and  as  the  whole  State  is  esUznated  to  coaatazn 
7,576  sq.  m.,  it  may  be  said  that  the  work  is  now  completed  over  }  of  its  area, — ^by  far  the  roi^i- 
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  boazd 
of  managers."  A  final  extract  will  serve  to  show  the  progress  and  proqjects  of  road-reoording 
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  »  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.,  eadh  of  the 
parties  paying  one-half  of  the  expense.  In  our  State,  where  the  survey  had  at  that  time  aJrady 
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  sorvey. 
They  only  asked  that  we  allow  them  the  use  of  our  instruments  for  carrying  on  the  work.  Thb 
arrangement,  being  plainly  advantageous  to  both  parties,  was  entered  upon  on  July  15,  Z884,  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  adznirable  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.  (formeriy  Smith  &  Stronp,  52  N.  6th  st.)  issue  the  laigest  one  I 
have  seen  (Z884,  6  by  4  ft.,  2I  m.  to  z  in.,  townships  in  different  tints,  and  county  llAes  in  red), 
with  the  title  "  a  topographical  map  of  New  Jersey,  from  actual  survej-s  and  official  records  by 
G.  W.  Bromley  &  Co.,  civil  engineers."  Statistics  of  the  census,  Z870-80,  occupy  an  upper  cor- 
ner which  is  practically  a  blank  quarter-section  of  the  map,  and  the  other  three-quarters  (32  by  20 
in.  each),  distinguished  as  the  northern,  middle  and  southern  sections,  have  been  printed  on  parch- 
ment paper,  and  folded  in  pocket-covers,  by  special  contract  with  the  New  Jersey  Division  of 
the  League.  The  whole  map,  clolh  backed,  is  supplied  by  the  publishers  for  %  zo,  either  mounted 
on  rollers  for  the  wall,  or  dissected  and  folded  in  a  case  for  carriage  use ;  but  any  one  of  the  three 


COASTING  ON  THE  JERSEY  HILLS,  177 

flections  may  be  had  by  mail  for  5a  c.  from  either  of  these  officers  of  the  League:  G.  C.  Brown, 
Eliabeth,  zi6  Broad  st. ;  H.  Serrell,  Plainfield;  W.  J.  Morrison,  Moorestown.  "  If  any  one 
wishes  to  have  a  certain  route  or  routes  marked  out  for  him,  it  will  be  done  in  colored  inks,  at  an 
extra  chaiige  of  asc,  which  amount  will  go  to  etuich  the  treasury  of  the  Division."  The  offi- 
cen  of  this  Division  urge  wheelmen  in  general  to  support  their  enterprise  by  purchasing  for 
^x.s6  the  three  sections  that  practically  cover  the  entire  sheet  for  which  the  publishers  charge 
$xo.  The  same  firm  issue  "a  new  township  and  driving  map  of  Philadelphia  and  vicinity" 
(38  by  40  in.,  I  m.  to  I  in.,  cloth  backed,  mounted  for  the  wall  or  dissected  for  the  carriage, 
$3.50) ;  also  "a  historical  and  biographical  atlas  of  the  New  Jersey  coast"  (370  pp.,  maps  of  the 
State  in  18x2  and  1884,  maps  of  the  beaches,  plana  of  the  cities,  colored  plates,  $10).  They 
manufactuxv  maps  to  order,  and  profess  to  keep  in  stock  a  full  supply  of  all  the  national,  State, 
county,  dty  and  ralboad  maps  which  are  in  the  market 

Atlases  of  the  State,  of  the  city  of  Newark,  and  of  the  counties  of  Burlington,  Hudson, 
Hunterdon,  Middlesex,  Morris,  Somerset  and  Warren,  similar  to  those  noted  on  pp.  99,  ia6, 
have  been  puUished  by  Beers  ft  Co.,  36  Vesey  St.,  N.  Y. ;  and  on  p.  xoo  I  describe  the  three 
New  Jersey  maps  catalogued  by  the  Coltons,  i8a  William  St.,  New  York,  and  a  fourth  (of  the 
n.  part  of  the  State,  with  New  York  City  and  Westchester,  3  m.  to  1  in.)  which  is  to  appear  in 
•Sfit  The  most  satisfactory  chart  of  the  State  for  wheehnen  now  within  reach  is  attached  to  No.  7 
(June,  1885)  of  "Descriptive  America,  an  illustrated  geographical,  historical  and  industrial  maga- 
rine,"  edited  by  L.  P.  Brockelt,  M.  D.,  and  published  by  George  H.  Adams  ft  Son,  59  Beekman 
St.,  N.  Y.,  at  intervals  of  a  month  or  two  (so  c.  a  number,  $2. 75  for  six  or  $5  for  twelve  numbers). 
This  magazine  has  32  pp.  (12  by  t8  in:),  handsomely  printed  on  heavy  paper,  and  its  map  is  im- 
pressed on  a  sheet  of  bank-note  paper,  the  size  of  two  pages.  On  the  back  of  the  map  is  an 
alphabetical  Hst  of  alt  its  towtis  and  villages,  each  name  being  accompanied  by  a  letter  and  nu- 
meral, referring  to  the  maiginal  index  which  points  out  its  position.  This  "New  Jersey  "  is  on  a 
scale  of  6  m.  to  the  inch  and  shows  all  the  roads ;  while  the  maps  of  the  six  previous  issues  of 
the  series  (Colorado,  Dakota,  Michigan,  Wisconsin,  Florida  and  Georgia,  scale  20  m.  to  the 
inch)  show  only  the  railwaya.  All  these  maps,  folded  separately  in  cloth-bound  covers,  and  sim- 
ilar ones  (not  indexed)  of  30  other  Sutes,  including  New  York,  may  be  had  for  60  c  each ;  and, 
also  at  the  same  price,  "Massachusetts  with  Rhode  Island,"  and  "Connecticut  with  Long 
Island"  (23  by  z6  in.,  6  m.  to  the  inch,  1873-74),  which  are  better  suited  for  bicyclers.  Adams's 
"Atlas  and  Gazetteer  of  New  York"  (1871,  pp.  80,  price  $10),  shows  all  the  counties  of  the  State, 
on  the  last-named  scale,  and  a  new  edition  ($12)  is  announced  for  1886.  The  separate  county 
sheets  of  this  are  also  to  be  combined  so  as  to  form  a  single  State  map,  to  accompany  the  "New 
York"  nimiber  of  "Descriptive  America  " ;  and  the  half-dozen  issues  of  that  magazine  which  are 
to  be  devoted  to  New  England  will  contain  new  maps  of  the  six  States,  on  the  scale  of  6  m.  to 
xin.  Conn.,  Mass.  and  R.  I.  will  probably  appear  in  1885,  and  Vt.,  N.  H.  and  Me.  in  *86. 
The  maps  of  all  the  other  States  will  be  on  too  small  a  scale  (20  ra.  to  i  in.)  to  show  the  roads ; 
but  the  series  as  a  whole  b  well  worthy  of  the  patronage  of  wheelmen,  and  I  do  not  know  of  any 
other  way  in  which  a  bicyde  club  can  so  cheaply  secure  so  much  valuable  statistical  and  pictorial 
infomiation  for  the  use  of  its  road-riders  as  by  subscribing  $2.75  for  a  half-dozen  numbers  of  this 
onique  magazine.  Of  the  New  Jersey,  New  York  and  six  New  England  numbers  ($4  altogether)^ 
it  is  probably  safe  to  predict  that  no  dub-room  of  the  future  can  afford  to  be  without  them. 

It  is  certainly  safe  to  assert  that  no  individual  wheelman  of  the  present  who  attempts  any  ex- 
pbratkms  in  New  Jer&ey  can  afford  not  to  carry  in  his  pocket  the  compactly-printed  official  guide 
of  the  Lea^^,  whose  title-page  describes  its  character,  thus  :  "  L.  A.  W.  Road  Book  of  Pennsyl- 
vania and  New  Jersey,  with  the  reported  roads  of  Long  Island  and  Staten  Island,  and  the  principal 
through  routes  of  N.  Y.,  Conn.,  Mass.,  R.  I.,  Del.,  Md.  and  Va.,  including  road  maps  of  New 
Jersey,  Orange  Riding  District,  Staten  Island,  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia  Riding  District  and 
Long  Island.  Compiled,  designed  and  arranged  by  Henry  S.  Wood,  C.  E.,  Consul  for  Phila- 
delphia, assisted  by  Eugene  M.  Aaron,  Chief  Consul  for  Pa.,  and  Dr.  G.  Carieton  Brown,  Chief 
Coiisul  for  N.  J.  First  edition,  1885.  Times  Printing  House."  This  contains  160  pp.,  size 
6)  by  3I  in.,  boond  in  flexible  leather,  with  pocket  and  extra  blanks  but  no  advertisements ; 
12 


178  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

is  \  in.  thick,  weighs  6  ox.,  and  sells  for  %\.  Orders  by  mail  shonld  be  addressed  to  Mr.  Aaron, 
Hox  916,  Philadelphia  ;  and  all  sales  of  the  book  will  accrue  to  the  benc&t  of  the  Division,  ^  ibe 
uisk  of  compilation  was  assumed  purely  as  a  labor  of  love.  The  routes  are  all  tabulated  in  uni- 
form style,  and  numbered  i  to  46,  with  variations  A,  B,  C,  x  A,  2  B,  and  the  like,  so  that  the  list 
of  them  covers  4  pp.,  and  the  amount  of  roadway  reported  upon  (exclusive  of  duplicatioiDs)  ex- 
ceeds S,ooo  m.  The  reading  matter  is  in  fine  type,  distributed  as  follows :  Preface,  i  p. ;  Penn- 
sylvania topography,  2  pp. ;  Philadelphia  riding  district,  2  pp. ;  general  review,  x  p. ;  railroad 
transportation,  with  alphabetical  list  of  the  "  free  "  roads,  e.  of  BufEalo,  i  p. ;  consuls,  botds 
and  repair  shops  in  Penn.  and  N.  J.,  3  pp. ;  executive  officers  of  the  two  Divisions,  with 
abstracts  of  their  rules,  a  pp. ;  objects  and  methods  of  the  L.  A.  W.,  3  pp.;  odds  and 
ends,  X  p. ;  N.  J.  index  (references  for  250  towns),  3  pp. ;  Penn.  index  (references  for 
525  towns),  5  pp. ;  N.  Y.  index  (references  to  225  towns),  a  pp.  Massachusetts  index 
(61  references)  and  miscellaneous  index  (81  references)  x  p.  This  makes  a  total  of  nearly 
1,150  towns,  whose  situations  on  the  no  "routes"  (each  averaging  xoo  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  "  Orange  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  more  elaborate  State  maps  (N.  J.,  20 
m.  to  I  in.  and  Penn.,  35  m.  to  i  in.)  attempt  to  give  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.  Elach  may  therefore  be  r^arded  as  a  very  valuable  index  to  the 
study  of  latger  maps  of  the  same  State,  and  each."  having  been  photographically  reduced  fnxn  huge 
and  accurate  tracings  "  (made  by  the  compiler,  whose  profession  is  that  of  dvil  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-sighted,  this  will  not  be  a  practical  obsude 
to  the  usefulness  of  the  charts.  They  are  really  marvels  of  intelligent  condensation,  and  they  in- 
stantly give  to  a  long-distance  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  incidental  effect  of  convincing  the  ignorant,  the 
indifferent  and  the  dissatisfied  that  the  League  is  a  definite  power  for  good ;  and  in  iu  oltimaU 
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  representati\'e  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  i  in.)  that  covers  a  circular  tract  of  la  m.  di- 
ameter, on  the  Delaware  river,  and  that  is  freely  dbtributed  on  a  fly-leaf  as  an  advenisement  of 
the  Mooresttntm  ChronicU^  "  the  only  newspaper  published  within  the  radius  of  6  mu  frxxn 
Moorestown,"  which  village  serves,  of  course,  as  the  center  of  the  charL  The  map  is  divided 
into  m.-circles,  and  gives  a  plain  shovring  of  all  the  roads ;  and  I  recommetul  other  local  new> 
papers  to  issue  similar  ones,  as  an  inexpensive  scheme  for  keeping  their  names  near  to  the  heart 
of  the  bicyder— as  near,  at  least,  as  the  breast-pocket  of  his  riding-jacket  1 


•XIV. 
LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.* 

This  title  is  designed  to  cover  the  report  of  my  entire  August  touring  of 
425  m.,  distributed  through  eighteen  different  days  and  four  different  States ; 
for  though  it  began  and  ended  in  regions  far  removed  from  Lake  George,  the 
lake  was  my  chief  objective  point,  and  the  title  will  help  fix  the  attention  of 
those  who  were  interested  in  "W.  B.  E.*s"  account  of  a  July  pilgrimage 
thither,  as  presented  in  the  Bi.  World  of  August  5. 

On  the  second  day  of  the  month  I  took  my  machine  out  of  the  manufactory 
in  Hartford,  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,  spite  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, 
when,  rather  than  save  my  wheel  by  taking  the  risks  of  a  header,  I  thought 
to  save  my  bacon  by  resorting  to  what  I'elzah  calls  *'  a  backer " ;  in  other 
words,  instead  of  pitching  ahead  and  letting  the  machine  fall  on  top  of  me,  I 
jumped  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 
crank  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 
were  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  I 

On  the  i8th  of  August,  I  rode  back  to  Hartford,  starting  at  5  in  the 
morning,  with  a  threatening  n.  e.  wind  behind  me.  At  the  end  of  i  m.  I  had 
of  course  to  walk  up  the  church  hill  in  West  Springfield,  but  from  there  rode 
without  dismount  to  the  bridge  over  Agawam  river,  2  m.,  turning  w.  at  the 
common  and  then  s.  at  the  first  1.  road,  perhaps  \  m.  on,  over  the  railway 
track  and  by  a  curving  course  along  the  river  to  the  bridge.  Crossing  this, 
the  1.  road  is  followed  e.,  and  soon  leads  into  the  main  street  of  Agawam,  which 
runs  due  s.  until,  at  Porter's  distillery,  it  makes  junction  with  the  river  road 
leading  from  Springfield.  This  road  should  be  taken  by  tourists  to  the  n.  if 
they  wish  to  visit  that  city,  though  the  most  direct  and  easiest  road  up  the 
valley  is  the  one  down  which  I  came.     The  distillery  was  6i  m.  from  the 

iFnnn  Tlu  Bicycling  IVorldj  Oct.  7,  Nov.  11,  1881,  pp.  259-260,  5-6. 


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,  2J  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  \  m.,  I  was  forced  to  walk  the 
remaining  \\  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  i  J  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.  zaa,  as  to  the  need  o£  taking  the  river  rood,  between 
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  day  to  the  main  street  in 
Agawam.  In  riding  along  this  to  the  n.,  the  proper  point  to  turn  e.  for  the  bridge,  is  aboot  \ 
m.  above  the  brick  building  on  r.  which  serves  as  a  town  hall  and  school  house.  The  rood  turns 
squarely  to  the  r.  between  two  houses,  and  is  not  spedally  prominent,  though  the  presence  of 
large  trees  outside  the  fence  may  help  to  fix  the  place  of  it  Upon  the  same  p.  122  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  impcored 
within  recent  years  that  they  may  now  bo  easily  covered  without  dismount.  Tlie  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,— ^here  the  windows 
of  the  passing  trains  had  many  times  given  roe  tempting  views  of  the  rocky  shallows  of  the  river, 
the  wooded  island,  the  symmetrical  slopes  of  the  cunring  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-ni. 
level  with  no  other  stop  than  the  one  required  by  the  bridge  spanning  the  waste^weir  which  bi- 
sects it,  shows  that  it  is  burly  ridable.  In  some  parts  the  ruts  of  the  wagon  wheels,  or  the  hone- 
path  betweoi  them,  must  be  followed ;  and  the  over^growing  grass  ooasionally  makes  such 
following  difficult.  Powdered  stone  and  gravelly  redday  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  shooZd 
turn  w.  just  above  the  r.  r.  station  in  Windsor  Locks,  then  ride  up-hill  to  the  n.,  and  afterwards 
bear  w.  and  n.  across  a  covered  bric^.  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  unconsdously  increased  by  the 
fact  of  a  rasping  family  tradition  that  a  grandfather  of  mine  sank  "  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  bicyding  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  <ftlM»w^a^^^^  • 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.  18 1 

stretch  of  maddy  and  watcj7  macadam  in  the  city  limits.  Essaying  the  side- 
walk flags  as  preferable,  I  got  a  "  backer  *'  on  a  slippery  cobble-stone  crossing, 
which  once  more  made  my  wheels  interfere.  I  pulled  them  apart,  however, 
sufficiently  to  prevent  my  rainy  ride  being  finished  afoot.  Decency  demanded 
an  immediate  change  of  costume ;  and  the  advantages  of  white  flannel  were 
once  again  demonstrated.  Had  my  trousers  been  of  a  color  that  gave  less 
prominence  to  the  decorative  effects  of  mud,  mist  and  sweat,  I  might  have 
been  tempted  to  keep  them  on  I 

By  the  time  my  wheel  had  been  "  trued  up  "  and  otherwise  put  in  proper 
trim  for  the  fall  campaign,  the  rain  had  stopped  and  the  sun  was  shining.     So 
I  had  a  pleasant  return  run  on  the  sidewalks  as  far  as  Hayden*s  station, 
though  I  was  1}  h.  on  the  way,  just  as  on  the  unpleasant  forenoon  when  I  was 
hurrying  to  "  get  through."    Threats  of  rain  again  appeared  here ;  and  as  2 
m.  of  bad  road  were  just  ahead  of  me,  and  as  I  could  at  best  only  hope  to 
reach  the  end  of  the  canal  by  nightfall,  I  chose  to  take  train  to  Springfield, 
whence  I  rode  home  4  m.  through  the  rain  and  darkness,  ending  thus  at  8 
p.  M.  a  day's  tour  of  42  m.    I  may  add  that  on  the  occasion  of  my  ride  from 
Hartford,  a  fortnight  before,  I  hired  a  man  at  the  end  of  the  canal  to  row 
me  across  the  river  to  Thompsonville,  whence  I  passed  through  Enfield  and 
Longmeadow  to  Springfield.    I  took  this  e.  side  route  on  my  first  tour  to 
Hartford  in  1879,  but  all  my  other  rides  have  been  on  the  w.  side,  and  I  am 
sure  this  is  the  best.     Indeed,  in  making  the  entire  tour  of  the  valley  from 
Hartford  to  Bellows  Falls,  the  tourist  has  nothing  to  gain  in  crossing  the  river. 
Judging  from  the  sad  story  which  "  M.  D.  B.  **  tells  about  the  nine  miles 
of  sand  between  Jenksville  and  Palmer  {Bi.  Worlds  Sept.  2),  I  did  not  make 
such  a  bad  mistake  after  all,  in  the  case  of  my  June  ride  from  Boston  to 
Springfield,  in  taking  a  roundabout  course  through  Ware  and  Thorndike  to 
Jenksville,  instead  of  the  direct  one  through  Warren  and  Palmer  to  the  same 
point ;  for  though  I  had  several  hills  to  walk,  I  encountered  no  long  stretches 
of  sand.     At  Indian  Orchard,  which  is  a  mile  w.  of  Jenksville,  a  tourist  on  the 
way  to  Hartford  might,  instead  of  taking  the  uninteresting  though  perfectly 
ridable  path  across  the  plains  to  Springfield  (7  m.  to  the  corner  of  State  and 
Main  sts.),  go  through  Chicopee  Falls,  Chicopee,  and  West  Springfield.    The 
distance  to  the  church  hill  in  the  latter  place  is  a  little  more  than  9  m.,  and 
the  last  5  m.  of  it,  from  Chicopee  Falls,  may  be  made  without  a  dismount,  in 
either  direction.     Between  the  Orchard  and  the  Falls  are  several  stretches  of 
sand  which  must  be  walked  through,  but  most  of  the  road  is  ridable,  and 
some  parts  of  it  along  the  river  are  shaded  in  a  very  attractive  manner.     In 
Chicopee  Falls  one  may  ride  several  miles  without  stop  on  the  concrete  side- 
walks, and  a  good  walk  of  dirt  or  concrete  extends  continuously  on  the  w. 
or  n.  of  the  road  to  the  town  hall  in  Chicopee,  where  one  first  takes  to  the 
street  and  then  to  the  brick  walk  on  the  r.  of  it  in  going  down  towards  the 
bridge,  over  to  West   Springfield.     In  recommending  to  the  through  traveler 
this  route  from  Indian  Orchard  to  Agawam,  as  preferable  to  the  usual  one 


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 
born,  "  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  Corners,  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,  i^  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  occar 
sion  \\  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  Chcapside  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,  2}  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  z\  m.,  to  the  New  England  Hotel,  in  Bernardston.  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  long  staying  in  the  saddle,  on  a 
diflficult  straightaway  course,  are  to  be  accredited  to  the  Springfield  Bicycle  Club's  pair  of  veteran 
road-riders,  F.  W.  Westervelt  (b.  Jan.  15,  1859)  and  C.  E.  Whipple  (b.  Aug.  22,  1861),  whose 
day's  nin  to  Boston  is  recorded  on  p.  114.  On  the  second  or  third  Sunday  in  May,  1884,  they 
wheeled  up  the  valley  without  dismount  to  the  hotel  in  Greenfield,  38  m.  by  Excelsior  cydometer. 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.  183 

They  told  me  at  Putney  that  the  roads  to  the  n.  were  unfit  for  the  bicycle ; 
but,  as  no  train  left  in  that  direction  until  1 1  a.  m.,  I  thought  I  would  at  all 
events  push  on  as  far  as  Bellows  Falls,  14  m^  before  resorting  to  the  cars.  Of 
three  possible  routes,  the  '*  river  road  "  was  said  to  be  sandy  and  the  "  hill 
road  **  rough ;  so  I  was  recommended  to  take  the  *'  middle  road/'  and  I  found 

Tbey  dad  it  *'  by  chance,  the  usual  way  "  and  not  by  premeditation,  or  for  the  sake  of  recording 
an  exploit.     Greenfield  was  the  objective  point  for  their  morning's  run,  and  they  happened  to 
have  no  occasbn  for  stopping  until  they  got  there  :  that  was  all.     If  the  idea  had  then  occurred 
to  them,  their  remarkable  straightaway  record  mig^t  easily  have  been  increased,  for  a  fairly 
smooth  and  level  course  stretched  ahead  of  them  for  several  miles,  at  the  time  of  their  dismount. 
Oosfting  the  North  bridge  ihto  West  Springfield,  they  turned  up-hill  to  the  1.  at  the  watering 
trough  where  the  r.  road  continues  alongside  the  river  to  Holyoke  ;  rode  up  Gates's  hill  on  the 
giaa^  edges  of  the  sandy  roadway  (this  is  the  hill  of  which  I  have  said— last  line  of  p.  iz8— "  I 
do  not  believe  it  can  be  mounted  " ;  but  I  now  learn  that  it  has  been  conquered  several  times  by 
these  two  riders,  as  well  as  by  other  membera  of  their  club) ;  ploughed  through  the  sand  at  the 
place    near    Snuth's    Ferry   where   an   apple<orchard    designates   the  limits  of  a  via  maia 
in  a  double  sense;  turned  r.  between  the  iron  rails  at  the  crossing  above  Ml  Tom  station,  and 
rode  through  the  r.  r.  bridge  on  a  double  plank  (as  the  entrance  to  the  meadow-road  happened 
then  to  be  in  poor  condition) ;  turned  1.  at  the  point  above  here  where  the  dike  rises  to  the  level 
of  the  r.  r.  embankment  and  where  pbnk-guards  render  possible  a  side  exit  from  between  the 
raib;  followed  meadow  road  to  Northampton;  turned  there  at  first  I.  road  after  descending 
through  the  main  street  and  crossing  the  r.  r.  tracks;  then,  after  passing  the  park  and  going 
aboot  3  m.  beyond,  turned  1.  over  the  r.  r.  by  bridge,  and  rode  past  the  Hatfield  camp-meeting 
grounds ;  perhaps  a  m.  beyond  here,  turned  r.  and  went  directly  to  South  Deerfield,  whence  to 
the  ManaoD  House  in  Greenfield,  the  route  was  the  familiar  one  described  by  me,  on  pp.  iSa,  119. 
The  time  of  stayii^  in  the  saddle  was  4^  h.,  showing  an  average  progress  of  about  8  m.  per  h. 
As  the  same  riders  have  covered  the  same  38  m.  on  two  other  occasions,  with  only  the 
single  dismount  required  by  the  "  apple  orchard  "  sands  near  Smith's  Ferry,  and  as  other  mem- 
beis  of  the  club  have  also  gone  as  far  as  Hatfield,  without  stopping  at  any  other  place  than  that, 
the  "  advice  "  given  by  me  on  p.  119  seems  to  need  modification.    These  Springfield  wheelmen 
say  that,  instead  of  taking  train  or  resorting  to  the  roundabout  course  described  on  p.  1 19,  a  va- 
riation of  the  straightaway  route  fust  given  may  be  followed  to  advantage,  by  turning  r.  at  the 
bst-naroed  r.  r.  bridge,  and  thos  reaching  the  sidewalks  of  Hatfield  within  \  m.     Between  the 
terminus  of  these  sidewalks,  beyond  Bagg's  Hotel,  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  village,  and  a 
pmnt  of  junction  with  what  I  have  called  (pp.  119,  182)  the  e.  route  connecting  North  Hatfield 
and  South  Deerfield,  is  a  stretch  of  2  m.  or  so  of  meadow  road  which  is  at  most  seasons  fairly 
fidable.     Mr.  Whipple  says  that  the  road  from  Greenfield  to  Turner's  Falls,  4  m.  e.,  is  a  pretty 
one,  with  a  hill  that  allows  some  fine  coasting,  though  the  same  g^de  may  be  readily  ridden  up ; 
and  that  he  has  successfully  explored  another  route  from  Greenfield,  as  far  as  South  Vernon,  say 
IS  m.     He  bought  a  50-in.  Standard  Columbia,  Sept.  8,  '79,  but  rode  very  little  during  that  year 
and  the  next.    A  routid  trip  to  Hartford  was  his  only  long  ride  in  '82,  and  a  leisurely  four 
days'  journey  from  New  York  to  Springfield  the  only  one  in  '83  except  the  loo-m.  run  to  Boston. 
He  registered,  that  year,  nearly  4,000  m.,  and  he  has  not  kept  a  record  for  any  other  season ; 
bat  as  the  amount  of  his  riding  increased  in  '84,  his  total  mileage  must  considerably  exceed 
lo/wo  m.     He  rode  a  p-in.  British  Challenge  from  the  spring  of  '83  to  the  spring  of  '84  ;  since 
then  has  used  the  50-in.  Rudge,  on  which  his  remarkable  straightaway  ride  was  taken.     He  is  a 
watchmaker  and  jeweler  by  occupation,  and  weighs  148  lbs.    This  is  about  the  weight  also  of  his 
oompsusion,  Mr.  Westervelt,  who  is  a  die-cutter,   and  whose  mileage  probably  exceeds  10,000, 
though  he  has  kept  no  record  of  it  except  during  the  brief  period  of  ten  weeks  ending  with  the 
loo-m.  ride  to  Boston,  when  it  amounted  to  t,ioo  m.     He  rode  a  52-in  British  Challenge  on  that 
oocaaioa,  and  a  Rudge  of  similar  size  on  the  long  stay  to  Greenfield. 


i86  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Tioonderoga,  whence  the  evening  of  the  9th  saw  their  faigloriouB  return.  The  final  act  was  in  17S9 
when  Amherst  repeated  the  expedition!  caphired  Ticonderoga  and  CroMm  Point,  and  iorced 
France  to  let  go  of  the  lakes  forever." 

The  little  guide-book  to  which  I  accredit  these  tutistics,  though  I  present  many  of  them  in 
language  of  my  own,  devotes  142  pp.  to  Lake  George  and  60  pp.  to  Saratoga  Springs.  It  coo- 
tains  a  map  of  the  latter  place  (6  by  4  in.,  x\  m.  to  i  in.),  and  also  one  of  the  region  between 
its  lake  and  Lake  George  (6  m.  to  i  in.)  with  circles  described  at  i-m.  intervals  from  Saratoga  as 
a  center ;  besides  a  map  of  the  lake  (a  m.  to  i  in.)  in  three  sections  of  a  page  each,  and  numer- 
ous other  plans  and  views  of  it.  The  book  was  compiled  in  1873,  by  S.  IL  Stoddard,  of  Glens 
Falls,  N>  Y.,  who  has  published  revised  editions  of  it,  down  to  1884,  at  25  c.  in  paper  coven  and 
50  c.  in  doth.  A  similar  price  is  charged  for  his  "  Adirondacks  Illustrated ''  (the  'S4  editioa  ol 
which  is  a  well-printed  la  mo  of  234  pp.,  with  17  maps  and  55  other  illustrations);  and  pre> 
sumably  also  for  his  "  Ticonderoga."  The  latter  book  supplies  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  Geoige  from  the  survey  of  x88o  "  (of  whidi  the  same  pul>- 
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  26,  1759 ;  from  the  British  by  Ethan 
Allen,  May  10,  1775,  and  from  the  Americans  bv  Buigoyne,  July  5,  1777."  This  pocket  map 
(12  by  38  in.,  x  m.  to  z  hi.,  50c.)  is  an  excellent  one,  colored  by  townships,  with  m.  circles  drawn 
from  Ft.  William  Henry,  Black  Moimtain,  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  exhilMts  one  of  the 
former,  except  for  the  7  m.  between  North  West  Bay  and  Sabbath  Day  Point,  whose  connection 
is  only  "  ordinary."  In  the  text,  the  compiler  speaks  of  the  lower  section  of  this  as  "  a  good 
country  road,  affording  a  pleasant  lo-m.  drive  between  Caldwell  and  Bolton  **:  and  he  says,  of 
a  hotel  on  the  e.  shore  called  Horicon  Pavilion,  that  "  an  excellent  road  has  been  built  from  this 
point  2  m.  to  the  top  of  Black  Mountain  (alt.  2,661  ft),  for  whose  use  %\  toD  is  charged  those  who 
do  not  hire  a  saddle  horse  for  $3."  Presumably  this  slope  would  not  be  "  excellent  "  enough 
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  25  in.,  4  m.  to  i  in.,  colored  by  counties,  $1),  whose  eastern  border  extends  from 
Glens  Falls  to  Plattsburg  and  includes  Lake  George  and  most  of  Champlain.  "  Distances  fnm 
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  shown 
by  arrows,  and  stage-fares  are  given  on  various  routes."  As  the  road  connecting  Glens  Falls 
with  the  hotel  at  Katskill  Bay  (za  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  24 
m.)  is  designated  as  only  *'  ordinary.*'  The  battlefield  of  Saratoga  is  about  is  m.  s.  e.  of  thai 
village,  at  Bemis  Heights,  on  the  Hudson,  just  w.  of  the  main  road  between  Stfllwater  and 
Schuylerville,  and  about  3  m.  n.  of  the  former  village ;  and  the  sentimental  tourist  should  hah 
here  to  rest  hu  eyes  upon  the  field  which  witnessed  a  decisive  struggle  that  chai^^d  the  whole 
current  of  modem  history.  It  was  Gates's  capture  of  Burgoync's  piroud  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  forget  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,"— the  self-same  spot  where  the  inde- 
pendence  of  America  was  really  won, — ^let  the  patriotic  wheelmaui  picture  to  his  imagination  the 
exciting  drama  that  was  played,  a  century  ago,  upon  these  now  peaceful  slopes,  by  recalliog  to 
mind  the  rattling  lines  of  Guy  Humphrey  McMaster  : 

In  their  mirged  reRimental^,  stood  the  old  ContlnentaL<t.  yteldinir  not, 

When  the  grenadiers  were  Innglng.  and  like  hall  fell  the  plnngfnff  cannon-shot;  [luilcom. 

When  the  flies  of  the  isles,  from  the  ranoky  night  encampment,  bore  the  iMnner  of  the  1 
And  grummer,  gnunmer,  grummet,  rolled  the  roll  of  the  drummer,  throuf^  the  0ioi*a! 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON.  187 

1  with  eyes  to  Che  front  aU,  and  wtth  gom  lioilxontal,  etood  oar  bItm; 
And  the  halls  whlstied  deadly,  and  in  streams  flaaUng  rodly  blazed  the  fires; 
As  tbe  roar  on  the  shore,  swept  the  strong  battle-breakers  o'er  the  green  sodded  acres  of  the  plain. 
And  loader,  loader,  loader,  cracked  the  black  gunpowder,  crocking  anudnt 

Now  like  smiths  at  their  forges  worked  the  red  St.  George's  cannonlftrs; 

And  the  "  viUainoos  saltpetre  "  rung  n  fierce,  discordant  metit)  round  their  ears; 

As  the  swift  storm  drift,  with  hot  sweeping  anger,  came  the  honie-guardfi'  clangor  on  our  flanl^s. 

Then  higher,  higher,  higher,  bamed  the  old-fashioned  fire  through  the  ranks  I 

Thien  the  old-fashioned  colonel  galloped  throufl^  the  white  infernal  powder-cloud; 

And  his  broad  sword  was  swinging,  and  his  brazen  throat  was  ringing  trumpet  loud. 

Tttax  the  bloe  ballets  flew,  and  the  trooper-jackets  redden  at  the  touch  of  the  leaden  rifle-breath, 

And  rounder,  rounder,  rounder,  njared  the  iron  sbe-poander,  hurling  death  I 

In  addition  to  the  Stoddard  publications,  there  is  a  less-elaborate  map  of  the  "  New  York 
Wilderness  and  the  Adirondacks,  by  W.  W.  Ely,  M.  D.*'  (revised  1885,  31  by  a8  in.,  4  m  to  i 
in.,  ^i)  with  a  plan,  on  a  smaller  scale,  embracing  adjoining  parts  of  New  England,  Canada  and 
the  Middle  Sutes,  published  by  the  Coltons,  i8a  William  street,  N.  Y.;  and  a  map  of  Lake 
George  <5i-ss)>  by  Been  &  Co.,  36  Vesey  st.  Another  standard  work  which  deserves  the 
attention  of  the  tourist  along  the  Hudson  is  the  "  Catskill  Mountain  Guide,"  which  is 
nailed  for  40  c  by  the  compiler  and  publisher,  Walton  Van  Loan,  of  Catskill,  N.  Y.  Issued 
fine  in  1876,  as  an  8  vo  of  58  pp.,  its  size  has  increased  with  each  annual  revised  edition  since 
then,  and  31,000  copies  had  been  sold  at  the  close  of  '84.  The  book  of  that  year  contains  128 
pp.,  of  which  only  36  are  given  to  reading  matter  and  10  to  full-page  views  of  the  mountains,— 
the  remainder  being  occupied  with  the  pictured  advertisements  of  the  summer  hotels  and  board- 
ing  hooses  of  the  whole  Catskill  region.  "  Bird's-eye  views  **  form  the  distinguishing  character- 
istic of  the  guide,  however,— the  largest  one  ("Catskills  and  Adirondacks,"  32  by  15  in.,  10  m.  to 
I  in.,  engraved  by  American  Bank  Note  Co.,  N.  Y.),  giving  a  good  idea  of  the  topography  of 
the  onintry  from  New  York  City  to  Montreal.  Each  mountain  peak  has  its  name  and  height 
printed  upon  it,  and  the  riven  and  lakes  are  shown  in  white  relief  against  a  brown  tint.  Some- 
what similar,  but  on  a  scale  large  enough  to  exhibit  the  actual  contotir  of  the  region,  with  roads 
and  villages,  is  the  "  bird's-eye  view  of  the  CatskiUs,  drawn  from  nature  by  Walton  Van  Loan, 
and  covering  an  area  of  i,aoo  sq.  m.,  looking  northerly  "  (19  by  12  in.),  and  the  "  view  of  all 
points  of  interest  within  4  m.  of  the  chief  hotels  "  (16  by  9  in.),  on  the  much  laiger  scale  of  |  m. 
to  I  in.;  while  a  sheet  9  by  6  in.  presents  the  chief  features  of  the  country  from  New  York  to  the 
St.  Lawrence,  condensed  from  the  largest  "  view."  There  is  a  "  map  of  Greene  county,  with 
parts  of  Ulster  and  Delaware  counties  "  (15  by  13  in.,  3  m.  to  i  in.,  engraved  by  Been),  giving 
the  main  roads,  and  also  "  a  panoramic  view  of  Windham,"  exhibiting  a  wide  stretch  of  country 
that  ought  to  contain  good  wheeling.  The  letter-press  of  the  guide  describes  an  attractive  "14. 
m.  drive  around  the  Clove,"  and  many  lesser  ones,  but  without  giving  a  dear  idea  as  to  whether 
the  roads  are  praaicable  for  the  bicycle, — the  only  quotable  allusion  being  this  remark,  attributed 
to  the  Bishop  of  Albany :  "  Mr.  Harding's  achievement  of  a  road  from  his  new  Hotel  KaatcrskiU 
down  the  mountains  reminds  one  of  the  Alpine  roads  over  the  St.  Gothard  or  the  Simplon, 
which  needed  imperial  power  and  national  resources  to  accomplish  them." 

"Ten  Days  in  the  Catskills "  is  the  title  of  an  interesting  report  supplied  to  the  Wheel 
(July  so,  'Si,  pp.  173,  174)  by  its  editor,  F.  Jenkins  (b.  Jan.  ao,  1859),  concerning  a  tour  of  26S  m., 
taken  by  him  in  company  with  a  fellow-member  of  the  long-since-defunct  Manhattan  Bicycle 
Qub,  H.  H.  Walker,  who  was  then  33  yean  old,  and  who  has  since  ceased  to  be  a  rider.  His 
age  was  officially  recorded  thus  on  the  day  when  this  tour  began  Quly  2,  '81),  because  he  then 
figured  as  one  of  the  trio  whose  defiant  entrance  into  Central  Park  caused  the  arrest  which  be- 
came the  basis  of  the  long-drawn-out  law-suit  against  the  Park  Commissionen,  as  detailed  on 
pp.  93-95.  Starting  at  1.30  P.  m.,  the  two  toiunsts  reached  Yonken,  15  m.,  at  about  3,  and 
Tarrytovim,  ti  m.,  at  4.15 ;  thence  branching  off  from  the  river-to  Pleasant ville,  7  m.,  at  5.30; 
whence  to  Mount  Kisco,  8  m.,  the  road  continued  good{  and,  in  the  gathering  twilight,  they 
pushed  on  rapidly  to  Katonah,  5  m.,  at  8  o'clock,  making  45  m.  in  6^  h.    (My  language  on  p. 


i88  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

76,  concerning  the  last  20  m.  of  this  route,  would  have  been  less  cantiotts,  if,  at  the  time  of  * 
ing,  I  had  been  familiar  with  the  report  now  quoted  from.)  "  The  next  day  was  Tery  1 
and  we  took  things  easy,  riding  early  in  the  morning  and  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  roads  were 
rather  sandy  and  hilly,  and  led  through  Croton  Falls,  8  m.;  Brewsters,  6  m.;  Patterson  9  in>,  to 
Pauling,  5  m.,  where  we  spent  the  night.  The  roads  gave  average  riding  from  Pauling  to  Dover 
Plains,  15  m.;  improved  thence  to  Amenia,  8  m.;  and  the  final  9  m.  ending  at  Millerton  at  j 
o'clock  were  covered  in  a  little  over  an  hour."  (My  own  report  of  smooth  connection  becweea 
the  Hudson,  at  Poughkeepsie,  and  Amenia,  and  good  route  thence  to  the  Housatonic  vaBey 
and  through  it  to  Pittsfield— pp.  146-148 — shows  that  a  New  Yorker  who  wishes  to  wfaed  to  any 
of  those  places  may  wisely  follow  the  trail  of  these  Catskill  tourists,  as  far  as  Amenia.) 

"  After  a  day  and  a  half  at  M.,  we  started  at  9.30  on  the  6th,  and  made  our  first  pause  at 
Boston  Comers,  ^\  m.  The  road,  winding  through  a  fertile  valley,  and  quite  hilly,  was  hard 
enough  to  give  good  wheeling ;  and  in  fact,  we  found  all  the  roads  of  Dutchess  county  far  above 
average.  We  got  a  good  dinner  at  Copake  Falls,  4  m.,  and  found  good  roads,  though  hiBy 
ones,  to  Hillsdale,  6}  m.  Perryville,  3  m.  on,  was  the  scene  of  our  first  headers ;  at  the  Hoff- 
man Lake  House,  3}  m.,  we  halted  again  for  '  scenery  and  drinks';  at  Hollowville,  afters}  ™- 
more  of  excellent  roads,  we  joyfully  shouted  '  Hollo !'  as  the  blue  Catskills  came  into  view.  Tbe 
next  II  m.  supplied  somewhat  inferior  wheeling,  but,  after  walking  4  or  5  long  hills,  we  found  a 
good  road,  which,  winding  through  the  gaps  and  valleys,  finally  brought  us  to  CatskDl  station  in 
season  for  the  6  o'clock  boat,  after  an  interesting  ride  of  40  m.,  in  about  6  h.  of  actual  motiom. 
Catskill  itself  is  a  pleasant  village,  about  \  m.  from  the  w.  bank  of  the  Hudson,  and  the  Pro»> 
pect  Park  Hotel,  where  we  spent  the  night,  is  the  best  in  the  neighborhood  and  overlooks  tbe 
water.  It  offers  a  fine  view  also  of  the  mountains,  and  on  a  clear  night  the  lights  of  the  Mount- 
ain House,  14  m.  off,  are  plainly  visible.  The  road  to  the  mountains  is  rou^  and  hilly,  and  it 
was  very  dusty  also,  at  3.30  p.  m.  of  July  7,  when  we  started  along  it ;  so  that  we  were  well  pow- 
dered, on  reaching  Palenville,  zo  m.,  where  a  shower  forced  us  to  halt  for  the  night,  at  the  Wis- 
delsea  Cottage.  The  continuance  of  rain  during  the  following  day,  caused  us  to  stay  sheltered 
here  until  the  9th,  when  we  mounted  at  8.30  a.  m.,  and  wheeled  along  the  pike  to  the  new  Hard- 
ing road  at  the  base  of  the  mountain.  Here  began  the  actual  work  of  the  tour ;  and,  as  we  pot 
our  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  and  pushed  it  up  the  steep  incline,  we  began  to  sigh  for  level  rouis. 
Our  bags  grew  heavier  at  every  step,  and  we  were  forced  to  make  frequent  stops.  Even  when 
we  reached  a  grade  rising  only  one  foot  in  seven,  the  surface  mud  rendered  it  unridable  for  os. 
After  sampling  the  mountain-side  springs,  we  reached  Hotel  Raaterskill  at  1 1  o'clock,  3  m.  in 
2}  h.  An  hour  or  so  later,  we  rode  thence  to  the  Laurel  House  for  dinner;  and,  in  the  after- 
noon, over  quite  a  level  stretch,  to  the  Catskill  Mountain  House,  where  we  spent  the  night 
Mr.  Beach,  the  proprietor,  who  has  lived  there  20  years,  assured  us  that  ours  were  the  first  bi- 
cycles that  had  ever  been  pushed  to  the  summit.  We  felt  amply  repaid  for  our  dimb,  however, 
when  we  saw  the  country  spread  out  before  us  like  a  map,  for  miles  and  miles,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  Farms  at  the' base  of  the  mountain  seemed  to  have  the  regularity  of  a  chess-board; 
the  Hudson,  winding  below  us,  was  dotted  with  sail,  and  its  distant  boats  resembled  toy  yachts. 
It  was  with  regret  that  we  tiimed  our  backs  on  this  glorious  scene,  when,  at  8.30  on  Sunday 
morning  we  turned  our  wheels  in  the  direction  of  TannersvUle,  3§  m.,  and  thence  journeyed  to 
West  Saugerties,  la  m.,  at  i  o'clock.  An  hour  earlier,  after  several  *  sermons  in  stones,'  we  had 
reached  the  Platterkilt  Oove,  and  began  the  regular  descent  of  the  mountain.  We  did  this  00 
foot,  of  course,  and  found  difficulty  even  in  holding  back  our  wheels.  Having  disposed  of  a 
good  meal  at  the  only  tavern  in  W.  S.,  we  were  obliged  to  make  many  dismounts,  on  wretched 
roads,  while  the  thermometer  registered  97* ;  but  within  3  ra.  of  Saugerties  the  surface  improved, 
and  within  i}  m.  it  became  finely  macadamized,  so  that  we  entered  the  town  in  very  fair  fonn. 
Beyond  it,  after  coasting  a  beautifully  smooth  hill,  we  crossed  a  bridge  and  found  a  fine,  shady 
side-path  for  about  4  m.;  followed  by  4  m.  of  sandy  road,  having  a  hard  edge  of  3  to  6  inches  io 
width,  which  was  ridable  only  with  caution ;  but  at  last  we  struck  another  level  foot-path,  and 
rolled  up  to  the  Eagle  Hotel  in  Kingston,  x^\  m.  from  Saugerties,  at  about  8  o'clock.  This 
ended  the  tour,  for  the  pouring  nun  of  the  next  morning  forced  us  to  abandon  the  scheme  of 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON,  189 

Thursday  forenoon  I  took  steamer  up  the  lake,  and  during  the  wait  for  the 
return  trip,  drove  my  wheel  to  "  Ti "  and  back.     In  the  afternoon  I  stopped 
at  the  Fort  William  Henry  Hotel  only  for  the  few  minutes  requisite  to  drag  a 
supply  of  clean  clothes  from  my  valise  and  set  the  label  thereof  for  New 
York.     Before  I  mounted,  at  5  o'clock,  however,  the  last  of  the  procession  of 
coaches  for  Glens  Falls  had  been  several  minutes  on  the  way,  and  \  h. 
elapsed  before  I  even  came  in  sight  of  it.    Not  long  afterwards  I  passed  it, 
while  taking  a  rest  at  a  toll  gate,  and  I  then  kept  well  ahead  of  it  to  the  end. 
Soon  after  this,  having  passed  through  the  village  and  reached  the  end  of  the 
paved  sidewalk,  I  made  my  first  real  stop  at  6.25,  though  two  or  three  brief 
dismounts  had  been  caused  by  lady  drivers ;  once  a  four-horse  coach  which  I 
met  forced  a  stop  by  trying  to  run  over  me,  and  once  I  had  to  alight  at  a  p^- 
fectly  level  place,  where  six  inches  of  loose  dirt  had  just  been  hauled  upon 
the  track  by  some  "  repairers."    I  have  no  praise  to  offer  for  this  corduroy 
road«  however,  though  I  succeeded  in  clearing  all  the  grades ;  for  some  of 
them  made  extremely  wearisome  riding,  and  more  than  once  the  deep  layer  of 
sand  on  top  of  the  planks  caused  my  wheel  to  balk,  and  almost  come  to  a 
dead  halt.     Some  of  the  up-grades  leading  towards  the  lake  were  certainly  too 
sandy  that  day  for  any  bicycle  to  plough  through.    "  W.  B.  E."  calls  the  cor- 
duroy road  9  m.  long,  but  my  cyclometer  made  only  6}  m.  of  it,  even  when 
combined  with  a  long  stretch  of  village  riding, — say  i  m.  beyond  the  toll  gate 
at  the  end  of  the  road.    Perhaps  the  jar  of  the  planks  caused  the  registry  to 
fall  short  of  the  truth ;  for  as  I  kept  ahead  of  the  coach,  which  rattled  along 
at  a  seemingly  brisk  pace,  I  must  have  gone  at  a  faster  rate  than  4  m.  an 
hour.     The  St.  James  Hotel,  in  Fort  Edward,  5J  m.  on,  was  reached  i  h. 
later,  making  17  m.  for  the  day.    This  last  was  done  mostly  on  the  sidewalks  j 
for  though  the  highway  was  generally  smooth,  an  intolerable  dust  was  stirred 
op  by  the  vehicles  returning  from  a  military  display  in  the  village.    At  a  place 
called  Sandy  Hill  I  surprised  myself  by  riding  to  the  top  of  a  long  and  steep 
incline,  paved  with  cinders  or  some  black  substance  hammered  down  very 
hard  and  smooth.    This  was  probably  the  most  creditable  climb  I  ever  took, 
and  I  should  be  glad  to  have  some  of  the  Fort  Edward  riders  say  whether 
they  commonly  take  it.     A  hotel  lounger  assured  me  that  none  of  the  local 
wheelmen  dared  to  ride  dorum  that  hill. 

Starting  on  next  morning  at  5.30^  with  my  cyclometer  pointing  exactly  at 

trying  the  tow-path  to  Port  Jervis,  and  thence  wheeling  down  the  Delaware  to  the  Water  Gap/' 
The  wheels  ridden  were  Harvard  roadsters,  50  in.  and  5a  in.,  fitted  with  Arab  cradle-springs ; 
and  the  two  Excelsior  cyclometers  attached  to  them  did  not  vary  \  m.  in  the  268  ni.  registry. 
Ibe  report  adds  :  "  One  thing  that  struck  us  was  a  question  that  greeted  us  in  every  nook  and 
comer  throu|^hout  our  route,  and  that  was  '  If  our  machines  were  Columbiaa  ?'  "  I  quote  this 
{or  its  historic  intere^,  as  showing  how  the  persistent  advertising  of  the  Pope  Manufacturing 
Company,  in  those  earlier  days,  made  the  country-folks  more  familiar  with  "  Columbia  *'  than 
with  "bicycle,"  as  a  name  for  the  wheel.  The  himdreds  of  rival  dealers  who  are  now  reaping 
a  I»ofit  from  that  courageous  advertising,  should  try  to  recall  this  to  mind  when  next  they  are 
tempted  to  make  a  diq>lay  of  ignorance  by  indulging  in  any  cheap  talk  about  *'  monopoly." 


190 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


zero,  I  reached  the  hotel  in  Schuylerville,  13I  m.,  in  2  h.,  and  stop]>ed  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  contino- 
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  i^  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,  1 1  m.  from  Waterford,  and  went  along  the 
river  road  to  Castleton,  9  m.,  in  i|  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^  m.  as  the  reading  for  the  day.    Spite 
of  the  continued  dry  weather,  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  o£f  through 
the  heavy  fog  from  the  forlorn  little  tavern  in  Schodack ;  for  I  was  almost 
\  h.  in  getting  to  the  brickyard,  f  m.,  where,  in  desperation,  I  accepted  the 
chance  of  risking  my  life  on  the  railroad.    My  first  mount  lasted  I2  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  \n\  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 J  m.,  while  the  hilly  highway  would  presumably  have  taken  me 
tw^ice  as  long.    Probably,  however,  I  should  have  done  well  to  resume  it  at 
this  point,  or  else  at  Coxsackie,  7\  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 
*t  9- 1 5»  3i  **•  from  Schodack,  1 5  m.    The  sun  was  just  then  dissipating  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, 
1  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 !  Of  course,  I  wheeled 
off  at  once,  and  in  the  solitude  of  my  own  apartments  mused  with  contempt- 
Qoos  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  j  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  ou^ 
lined  in  this  wise  :  Take  4  P.  M.  boat  to  Hartford,  and  ride  next  day  to  Hol- 
yoke  (or the  night  maybe  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 
begin  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  tnistworthy  sort  appeared  in  the 
B.  IV.,  from  the  pen  of  a  Fort  Edward  cyder,  declaring  that  the  tow-paih  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,  froai 
Hudson  to  Lake  Geoige  and  thence  back  to  WiUiamstown,  taken  by  the  party  whose  course  froni 
Suffem  to  Hudson  coincided  with  mine  (see  pp.  169, 171) ;  and  I  have  given  another  extract  (p.  13  x) 
descriptive  of  their  route  from  WiUiamstown  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  and  walking  over  its  ruts  and  ridges  of  rough  cby,  we 
stopped  at  that  city  for  the  night  An  early  start  was  made  the  following  morning,  and  Stoy- 
vesant  Landing  (14  m.)  was  readied  at  8  o'dock,  over  roads  the  less  said  of  which  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  city,  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  followed  it  to  the  hill  above 
Cohoes,  although  a  shorter  route  lies  nearer  the  river.  Through  Coboes  and  Waterford  to  Me- 
chanicsville,  7  m.,  the  road  is  only  fair,  but  probably  half  the  distance  can  be  wheeled  on  the  side- 
paths,  which  are  of  slate  and  so  smooth  that  not  the  least  jar  is  felt  while  riding  them.  The  3 
m.  from  Mechanicsville  to  StUlwater  probably  form  the  best  strip  of  road  in  this  section  of  New 
York  State,  as  we  proved  by  wheelmg  it  inside  of  la  min.  The  Ensign  House  at  Stillwater  is 
to  be  recommended ;  and  better  headquarters  could  hardly  be  found  from  which  to  inspect  the 
numerous  points  of  interest  in  the  vidnity.  As  few  wheelmen  would  care  to  visit  this  part  ol 
the  State  without  going  to  Saratoga,  we  give  several  routes  from  which  to  choose  :  (i)  from  Me- 
chanicsville along  the  r.  r.  Ime ;  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  ro.  before  reachmg 
White  Sxilphur,  then  to  the  1.  at  the  termination  of  this  road,  which  brings  one  out  near  tha 
center  of  the  lake,  thereby  avoiding  several  m.  of  sand.  While  at  Saratoga,  wheelmen  should 
not  fail  to  visit  Mount  McGregor  by  train,  and,  if  possible,  take  dmner  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.  ix,  and  found  the  road  was  in  such  fine  condition  that  Schuylervflle 
(xi^  m.)  was  reached  in  r}  h.  A  thunder  shower  that  had  been  brewing  all  the  morning  overtook 
OS  herci  and  caused  a  delay  of  several  h.;  but  at  3  o'clock  the  sun  was  again  shining  brightly, 
and  we  started  on,  with  the  determination  to  '  reach  Lake  George  anyhow.'  Thanks  to  the  fine 
roads  and  the  splendid  condition  we  were  in,  we  succeeded  in  finishing  the  30  m.  jost  at  night- 
fall. Shortly  after  leaving  Schuylerville  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  x  h. 
SS  min.  Good  side-paths  extend  from  here  through  Sandy  Hill  to  Glens  Falls  (si  m.),  and  for 
nearly  x  m.  further,  to  the  point  where  the  '  corduroy '  begins.    This  is  the  old  st»ge  road  to  CkU* 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON,  193 

«eU,  and  »  niade  of  6-ui.  i^anks  laid  cromwiM  on  girders  sunk  in  the  sand.  Aa  the  planks  are 
of  diflEerent  thickness  and  more  or  less  warped,  the  result  while  riding  is  a  continuous  jolt.  The 
first  4  m.  of  this  peculiar  road  is  straightaway  up-hill,  but  the  ascent  is  so  gradual  as  to  be  easily 
ridden.  A  glimpse  was  caught  of  Lake  George,  while  still  several  m.  away,  and  with  renewed 
vifffx  we  pushed  on,  dismounting  at  6.45  p.  u.  in  front  of  the  Lake  House,  which  we  recommend. 
"  On  the  foUowii^  afternoon  at  4  o'clock,  having  successfully  made  the  tour  of  the  beauti- 
ful lake  by  steamer,  we  again  tackled  the  '  corduroy '  and,  assisted  by  the  down-grade,  suc- 
ceeded in  riding  the  9  m.  to  Glens  Falls  without  a  dismount  in  a  trifle  over  t  h.  llie  morn- 
ing of  Sept.  13  dawned  clear  and  cool,  a  delightful  contrast  to  the  preceding  ten  days,  which  had 
been  literally  '  scorchers.'  An  early  start  was  made,  and  the  side-path  retraced  to  Fort  Ed- 
wand,  5I  m.,  where  we  turned  nearly  e.  on  a  hard  pike  and  found  excellent  wheeling  to  Aigyle, 
7^  m.  At  the  watering  trough,  a^  m.  on,  we  turned  to  the  1.  over  a  rough  and  hilly  road,  which 
however  improved  rapidly,  and  after  turning  to  the  r.  and  then  to  the  1.  three  times,  we  again 
found  a  broad,  smooth  road  under  our  wheels,  which  soon  brought  us  to  Lakeville,  7  m.  After 
this,  at  a  point  2|  m.  beyond  East  Greenwich  the  road  divides,  the  1.  branch  continuing  on 
2  m.  to  Salem.  F(^owing  the  road  to  the  r.  past  a  yellow  school-house,  we  turned  fairly  to  the 
s.,  and  with  a  strong  wind  in  our  favor  made  a  spurt  for  Cambridge,  passing  several  teams  which 
tned  their  paces  with  us,  only  to  be  left  far  in  the  rear,  while  we  were  soon  spinning  along  the 
hanks  of  Lauderdale  Lake  (7  m.),  a  perfect  little  gem  set  among  the  hiDs,  which,  with  its  tiny 
steamboat  and  oosey  hotel,  might  well  have  been  taken  for  a  copy  of  Lake  George  in  miniature. 
After  a  few  minutes'  pause  to  enjoy  the  scenery,  a  brisk  run  of  \  h.  brought  us  to  Cambridge, 
5  m.,  where  we  stopped  for  dinner.  The  aiftemoon's  ride  will  long  be  remembered  as  the  most 
deli^tful  of  our  tour.  After  passing  through  North  Hoosick  (9}  m.),  and  Hoosick  Falls  (2}  m.), 
the  road  dividea,  one  branch  running  among  the  hifls  on  the  e.  side  of  the  valley,  the  other  cross- 
ing the  river  at  Hoosick  Falls  and  following  closely  its  w.  bank,  with  very  few  grades.  It  can 
be  said,  however,  in  favor  of  the  e.  road,  that  the  view  from  some  of  its  higher  points  is  very 
fine,  embracing  as  it  does  a  considerable  portion  of  the  famous  Hoosick  valley.  If  this  road  is 
taken,  a  turn  to  the  r.  must  be  made  at  Hoosick  Comers  (3I  m.),  and  after  crossing  the  river  on 
a  covered  bridge,  a  turn  to  the  1.  will  again  bring  the  rider  on  the  main  road.  Beyond  this  the 
scenery  is  beautiful,  and  in  some  places  truly  grand.  At  one  point  where  we  dismounted  to  drink 
from  one  of  the  many  springs  that  lined  the  road,  the  mountain  rose  above  our  heads  for  many 
hundred  feet,  and  with  its  sides  covered  vnth  evergreen,  dotted  here  and  there  with  the  brighter 
colors  of  a  maple,  made  a  picture  worthy  the  pencil  of  an  artist  At  North  Petersburg  (2^  m.), 
we  turned  to  the  1.,  and,  after  recrossing  the  river,  again  turned  s.  and  found  good  roads  through 
North  and  South  Pownal  (6|  m.),  to  Williamstown  (5  m.),  Mass.,  the  seat  of  Williams  College. 
A  fiance  at  our  log,  during  the  evening,  showed  that  the  67  m.  from  Glens  Falls  had  been 
^liieelied  in  7  h.  actual  riding  time,  which  will  give  some  idea  as  to  the  condition  of  the  roads." 

A  part  of  this  course  was  included  in  a  three  days'  tour  (Sept  15,-17.  '83),  from  Cohoes  to 
Springfield,  113  m.,  whose  report  was  supplied  for  me  by  A.  C.  Rich,  of  Saratoga  :  "  The  slow- 
ness of  our  first  day's  journey,  Cohoes  to  North  Adams  (41}  m.,  7.15  a.  m.  to  6.25  p.  m.),  should 
not  prejodice  you  s^ainst  the  roads,  for  they  are  usually  good  and  hard ;  but  I  was  not  in  tour- 
ing trim,  and  the  final  24  m.  were  traversed  in  rain  and  mud.  Crossing  canal  at  the  start,  we 
went  to  Lansingbuxg,  and  thence  by  oil-mill  hill  ^oxk.%  to  be  remembered)  to  Spiegeltown  (5  m.), 
vbose  hotel  afforded  a  fair  breakfast.  At  Raymertown,  6^  m.,  we  struck  the  stone  road  leading 
towards  Bennington,  and  kept  it  for  ir  m.,  or  to  the  school-house  on  r.  (which  is  8^  m.  beyond 
Pittstown,  and  6^  m.  beyond  the  half-way  house),  where  we  turned  r.  up  the  valley,  and  kept 
the  w.  shore  of  the  Hoosac  to  near  North  Pownal,  6  m.,  where  we  crossed  and  kept  along  the  r. 
bank  through  South  Pownal;  finally  taking  the  I.  bank  again,  a  little  before  reaching  North  Adams, 
Wfro.  The  grade  is  upward  from  Cohoes  to  Pittstown,  and  thence  downward  to  Petersburg 
Junction,  2  ni.  beyond  the  school-house.  The  second  day,  10.30  a.  m.  to  7  p.  m.,  took  us  to 
^^^^>  33i  m-  From  Adams  (6  m.),  through  Cheshire  (5  m.),  and  Berkshire  (4I  m.)  to  Dalton 
(si  n».),  we  found  the  roads  so  bad  that  we  there  began  wheeling  between  the  r.  r.  tracks ;  finding 
upi^ade  to  Washington,  and  good  riding  thence  down  the  slope  to  Becket  (i  ij^  m.).  Next  mom- 
13 


194  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

^  Just  a  month  after  returning  from  Lake  George,  I  took  steamer  up  the 
river  again  as  far  as  Poughkeepsie ;  and  indulged  in  a  day's  wheeling  thence 
to  Rhinebeck  and  back  (33  m.,  7^  h.)»  with  some  of  the  local  riders.  My  r^ 
turn  down  the  valley  was  begun  at  11  o'clock  of  the  following  forenooD 
(Sept.  27,  'Si),  and  I  halted  \  h.  for  dinner  at  a  restaurant  in  Wappinger's 
Falls,  ^\  m.,  at  noon.  The  next  hour's  ride  carried  me  only  4}  m.,  to  the 
Stony  Kill  school-house, — the  good  wheeling  having  ended  at  Hughsonville. 
Fishkill  Landing  (opposite  Newburg),  z\  m.,  was  reached  at  2.20,  and  poorer 
roads  thence  took  me  in  i^  h.  to  the  r.  r.  station  at  Cornwall,  8  m.  I  found 
an  excellent  surface  thence  to  Cold  Spring,  where  a  hard  shower  caused  an 
hour's  halt,  and  made  the  roads  so  muddy  that  I  walked  nearly  half  of  the 
last  4}-  m.,  ending  at  the  Highland  Hotel,  Garrison's  (opposite  West  Point, 
the  seat  of  the  United  States  Military  Academy),  at  6.30  o'clock;  but  I  con- 
soled myself,  after  supper,  by  \  m.  or  so  of  exercise  on  the  hotel  piazzas, 
raising  my  total  to  26  m.  Starting  at  6.20  next  morning,  I  rode  s.  and  then  L 
up-hill  to  a  small  bridge,  i  m.,  whence  I  walked  \  m.  to  the  top  (though  the 
descent  would  all  be  ridable),  and  then,  rode  down  7\  m.  to  a  stony  hill, 
whence  I  walked  most  of  the  way  to  the  creek  near  the  iron  works,  2}  iil, 
and  rode  to  the  Eagle  Hotel,  in  Peekskill,  i  m.  Resuming  the  journey  at  9, 
after  an  hour's  halt  for  breakfast,  I  turned  1.  through  Washington  st^  bnt 
went  \  m.  beyond  the  place  for  turning  r.  into  the  turnpike,  and  was  driven 
back  to  it  by  meeting  a  surface  too  stony  for  riding.  My  cyclometer  was  just 
at  zero  when  I  got  to  the  turnpike,  2  m.  after  leaving  the  hotel,  and  after  i 
m.  of  wheeling,  I  plodded  through  sand  for  i^  m.  to  the  old  m.-5tone,  "44  to 
N.  Y."  Soon  after  this  I  reached  the  r.  r.,  and,  as  people  told  me  that  the 
highway  continued  just  as  soft  all  the  way  to  Sing  Sing  and  Tarrytown,  I 
mounted  between  the  tracks  and  rode  f  m.  to  Cruger's,  and  i  m.  beyond  it 
Then  I  walked  i  m. ;  then  rode  and  walked,  about  half-and-half,  4  m.  in  i  h., 
to  Sing  Sing, — ^keeping  just  ahead  of  a  slowly-moving  freight  train  for  the  last 
\  m.  There  are  two  short  tunnels  near  Cruger's ;  many  culverts  at  Croton 
(I've  heard  of  a  pleasant  carriage-drive  taken  from  here  along  the  river  of  the 
same  name  to  Croton  Lake,  and  thence  s.  to  Tarrytown),  and  two  arched 
tunnels  below  Sing  Sing.  Another  h.  between  the  tracks,  mostly  in  the 
saddle,  brought  me  to  Tarrytown  at  2  o'clock,  though  I  probably  ought  to 
have  taken  the  highway  at  the  stone  arch,  perhaps  f  m.  above.  I  went  from 
the  Vincent  House  to  155th  st.,  18}  m.,  in  3  h.,  resting  \  h.  at  Yonkers  and 
making  three  other  stops,  though  Valentine's  Lane  was  the  only  place  where 


ing  we  tried  the  highway  again  as  far  as  Chester  (ix  m.)>  but  found  it  so  desperately  sandy  and 
hilly,  that  we  took  the  tracks  to  Huntington,  and  again  from  Russell  to  West  Springfield,  idaence 
we  reached  the  dty  by  main  road  at  6  p.  m.,  having  a  day's  record  of  only  38^  m.  to  lepment 
loi  h.  on  the  road.  This  two  days*  lesson  taught  us  that  the  best  route  for  a  wheelman  vbo 
wishes  to  reach  Springfield  from  North  Adams  is  to  take  train  there  through  the  Hoosac  tunnel, 
and  then  wheel  down  the  Connecticut  valley  from  Greenfield." 

^The  remainder  of  this  dupter  is  now  for  the  first  time  published. 


LAKE  GEORGE  AND  THE  HUDSON. 


195 


a  stop  was  forced.    This  made  a  record  of  44  m.  for  the  day,  and  1 18}  m.  for 
my  four  days'  absence  from  the  city. 

Nearly  two  years  more  went  by  before  I  completed  the  last  link  in  my 
trail  through  the  valley,  by  covering  the  unexplored  stretch  of  28  m.  between 
Rhinebeck  and  Hudson  (June  6,  '83).  On  the  2d  of  the  month,  I  wheeled  up 
to  Tarrytown  (20  m.  in  4  h.),  and  then  from  Fishkill  Landing  to  Pough- 
kcepsie,  is^m.,  as  a  device  for  shaking  off  "malaria,'* — for  I  had  been  in 
poor  condition,  physically,  for  several  weeks.  A  grimly  humorous  incident 
stamps  the  excursion  upon  my  mind;  for  though  I  have,  at  one  time  or 
another  in  my  checkered  career,  carried  through  a  vast  variety  of  under- 
takings, I  never  before  happened  to  get  so  far  under  the  shroud  of  circum- 
stances as  to  be  taken  for  an  undertaker.  The  train  which  took  me  to  Fish- 
kill  (54  m.)  was  a  long  one,  and  when  it  stopped  there  I  ran  from  the  rear  of 
it  along  the  platform  to  the  door  of  the  baggage^ar,  from  which  the  box  con- 
taining a  man's  body  had  just  been  handed  out  and  placed  in  a  hearse.  As  I 
stood  there  waiting  for  the  baggage-man  to  pass  out  my  wheel,  the  chairman 
of  the  local  committee  on  ceremonies  began  glibly  talking  to  me,  in  the 
decorous  undertone  customary  for  such  mournful  occasions,  saying :  "  Your 
carriage,  sir,  is  the  one  just  behind  the  bearers  there  on  the  left,  and  you  will 
please  fol " —  but  just  then  the  nickel-plate  of  "  my  carriage  "  flashed  into  the 
sunlight  from  the  depths  of  the  baggage  car,  and  convinced  the  speaker,  in 
advance  of  my  polite  circumlocution  of  the  statement,  that  this  was  really 
"none  of  my  funeral."  Considering  that  I  was  clad  in  green  velveteen  jacket 
and  corduroy  smalls,  the  mistake  seemed  an  odd  one;  but  perhaps  the  com- 
mittecjknan,  in  the  bewilderment  of  ideas  caused  by  the  recent  change  in 
nomenclature  (banishing  "  undertaker  "  by  "  funeral  director  and  furnisher," 
without  whose  aid  no  truly  fashionable  corpse  can  now  be  properly  planted), 
thought  this  costume  the  latest  metropolitan  style  adopted  for  that  sort  of 
directing  and  furnishing.  The  funeral  procession  was  a  long  one,  and  it  threw 
dust  upon  me  as  I  toiled  up-hill  to  the  village, — walking  part  of  the  distance^ 
though  I  think  I  should  have  ridden  it  all,  if  the  course  had  been  clear.  Later 
in  the  afternoon,  I  waited  by  the  roadside  to  let  the  returning  carriages  get 
out  of  the  way.  For  the  first  m.  beyond  the  village,  where  I  halted  i  h.  for 
dinner,  the  loam  and  turf  had  been  scraped  into  the  middle  of  the  road  and 
there  ground  to  a  fine  powder ;  while  the  slopes,  thus  scrap>ed  smooth,  were 
thereby  rendered  too  steep  for  riding.  Beyond  here  for  2  ro.  the  improve- 
ments were  of  a  less  dreadful  nature,  consisting  of  sand  carted  upon  the 
roadway,  and  I  then  rode  almost  continuously  for  3  m.  From  Hughsonville 
to  Wappinger's  Falls  and  Poughkeepsie,  the  surface  was  excellent, — ^and 
more  than  half  of  it  was  about  as  good  as  macadam, — the  approach  to  the 
city  being  between  well-kept  stone  walls,  shaded  by  fine  rows  of  maples.  I 
rested  at  a  friend's  house  over  Sunday,  and  again  through  Monday,  when  the 
rain  gave  excuse  for  further  delay,  and  even  when  I  mounted,  at  9  o'clock  of 
Tuesday  morning,  I  felt  so  weak  and  ill  that  I  feared  I  might  not  be  able  to 


196  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

stay  in  the  saddle.  Once  mounted,  my  vigor  returned  somewhat,  and  thoogfa 
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,  I  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 J  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,  2ii  m.  from  the  start.  The  weather  of  the  lat- 
ter half  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  1 6th,  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 
21s  had  the  previous  and  more  common  exhibhions  given  by  gangs  of  farmers, 
engaged  in  wreaking  destruction  upon  the  roads,  under  pretense  of ."  working 
oat  their  taxes." 


A  two-ooluiiui  sketch  of  a  two  days*  ride  "  down  the  Hudson,"  from  Albany  to  Pough* 
keepde,  was  printed  in  the  Wheel  (Oct.  10,  '84),  by  G.  P.  MacGowan,  a  student  of  Middlebury 
College,  who  (on  Aug.  $,  a  to  8  p.  m.)  "  rode  with  a  companion  from  Greenbuah  down  to  Hud- 
son, between  the  r.  r.  tracks,  30  m.,  at  a  gait  of  10  m.  an  hour,  easy," — a  preliminary  spin  of 
M  m.  having  been  made  in  the  forenoon.  The  tracks  were  followed,  the  second  day,  until  they 
became  onridable,  at  Gennantown ;  "  from  which  place  the  smoothness  of  the  highway  and  the 
***'l'gbt*  of  the  scenery  increased  as  we  proceeded  toward  Poughkeepsie,  finishing  there  (45  m. )  early 
in  the  afternoon."  Proceeding  by  boat  to  ComwaU,  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- 
minations  ever  known,  as  a  sign  of  the  peace."  On  Nov.  8,  '84,  "  three  residents  of  Newbuxg 
wheeled  homeward  along  Broadway,  from  the  s.  w.  comer  of  Central  Park,  to  the  ferry  landing 
at  Fishkill,  6ai  m.,  between  6  a.  m.  and  4.20  p.  m.,  taking  breakfast  at  Yonkers  and  dinner  at 
PeekskiU,  and  climbiotg  thence  over  the  mountain  to  Crarrisons  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  rasids  were  good  for  the  entire  distance"  The  names  and  birthdays  of  the  three  are  :  J.  T. 
JodiD,  July  aS.  1838;  M.  W.  Couser,  June  13,  1853;  R.  Ketcham,  Nov.  8,  1863;  though 
the  first  mentioned  took  the  trip  alone,  on  the  9th,  between  the  designated  hours.  He  is  my 
authority  also  for  recording  that  the  best  route  n.  from  Hudson  leads  (through  the  toll-gate 
which  I  name  on  p.  196)  to  Qaverack  and  Ghent,  say  14  m.,  and  thence  to  Valatia,  about  8  m., 
over  an  esccellent  gravel  track ;  followed  by  fairly  ridable  roads  to  Greenbush.  I  believe  this 
route  is  also  recommended  by  "  M.  D.  B.  '* ;  and  I  presume  it  is  the  one  which  was  used  by 
the  late  R.  Osbom,  of  Poughkeepsie,  in  his  day^s  ride  to  that  dty  from  Albany,  7a  m.  The 
25Hn.  route,  by  which  a  connection  has  been  made  without  dismount  between  Canaan,  on  the 
border  of  Connecticut,  and  Castleton  on  the  Hudson  (p.  148),  passes  through  Valatia.  From 
(3iatham,  too,  on  that  same  route,  I  am  told  that  a  good  gravel  road  reaches  through  Lebanon 
to  Shaker  Village,  whence  a  m.  ascent  of  Pittsfield  mounUin  must  be  walked ;  alter  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.  Joelin  as  hilly  and 
•oroewbat  sandy ;  but  he  traversed  it,  between  4  a.  m.  and  8  p.  m.,  with  only  a  little  walking, 
and  be  recollects  the  distance  as  about  31m.  He  likewise  tells  of  hilly  but  ridable  roads  from 
there  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  quickest  ride  which  I  have  seen  recorded 
between  New  York  and  Yonkers  was  that  of  R.  G.  Rood,  in  the  election^lay  road  race  of 
the  Ixion  Bicycle  Club  (Nov.  6,  ^83),  for  the  club  diampionship  and  a  $50  gold  medal.    The 


198  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

route  appean  to  have  been  from  the  s.  w.  comer  of  Central  Park  through  the  Boulevard,  ijad 
St.,  loth  av.,  Kiogsbridge  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-vnnd  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  ^ 
'85,  covered  the  route  from  Buffalo  to  Rochester,  described  on  p.  ais  ;  and  whose  last  three  days 
led  down  the  Hudson,  ending  at  New  York,  July  x7,-^he  intermediate  wheeling  havii«  been  in 
Canada,  between  Cobourg  and  Kingston,  July  9-10.  "  The  course  fnnn  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' 
ville,  where  wheels  were  mounted  for  Poughkeepsie,  35  m.  distant  (dinner  at  RhinebeckX  and  a 
steamer  taken  there  alter  supper  which  brought  us  to  West  Point  at  1.30  a.  m.  As  the  final  day 
proved  a  very  hot  one,  vre  sailed  to  Irviugton,  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  oat 
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  Wallkill 
from  Walden  to  New  Palta  is  hard  and  very  level.  Two  stretches  of  4  or  5  m.  each,  having  a 
hard  slate  surface,  are  almost  on  a  dead  level,  and  afford  an  even  finer  ride  than  that  along  the 
Delaware,  from  Port  Jervis  to  Mflford.  l*he  37  m.  from  here  to  New  Palu  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.  173),  and  another  continnes  n.  op 
the  Wallkill,  and  Rondout  creek  which  it  runs  into,  to  Kingston,  about  15  m.  (see  p.  i83X 
The  county  map  also  shows  direct  connection  between  Nyack  (p.  So),  on  the  Hudson  opposite 
Tarrytown,  and  Suffern  (p.  171),  in  the  Ramapo  valley,  about  14  m.,  with  a  half-docen  intenne- 
diate  villages.  Kirk  Munroe's  illustrated  article,  "  A  Canoe  Camp  'mid  Hudson  Htghlaads" 
{Outing,  Dec,  '84,  pp.  163-173),  gives  some  interesting  facts  about  the  wild,  west-shore  regioe 
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 
20  m.  through  the  wilderness  to  the  Hudson,  and  take  train  back  to  the  dty  in  time  for  a  late 
dinner."    1,  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  drawix^ 
by  J.  D.  Woodward  (N.  Y.  :  Appletons,  1875,  PP-  5'>  price  50  c),  is  a  well  printed  octavo, 
which  is  worth  recommending  to  those  who  want  a  picture-book  of  this  region.  A  sini* 
lar  remark  may  be  made  of  the  same  publishers'  "  New  York  City  Illustrated  "  (1883,  pp. 
144),  which  sells  for  75  c.  The  Catskill  Mountain  Brteae  and  the  Lakt  Gt^rge  Ri^t 
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  & 
Co.,  N.  Y.  ("  illustrated  with  maps  and  woodcuts,  and  mailed  for  25  c.  each  "),  which  have  been 
in  the  market  for  a  long  term  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  Riirer  and 
Newport  Route,"  "  Northern  Resorts"  (White  and  Green  mountains.  Lake  Memphremagog, 
etc.),  "  Seaside  Resorts  "  (from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  Misussi{^i),  "  Pennsylvania  Coal  Re- 
gions," "  New  York  to  Washington." 


XV. 

THE  ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE.* 

On  the  afternoon  of  Monday,  September  6,  1880,  I  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 
vehicltts  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  1  I'll  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  7%e  BieycUng  Worlds  May  17,  Jane  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  spread  upon  the  excellent  existing  basis  of  the  p>ath  at  comparatively 
slight  expense,  and  would  transform  it  into  the  finest  racing  track  on  the  hab- 
itable globe.  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  Hoffmanns 
Ferry,  and  went  to  Patterson's  hotel  for  the  night,  arriving  at  half  past  7 
o'clock, — 12J  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  Hunter,  5  m.  on,  connected 
by  a  bridge  with  Amsterdam,  the  first  large  town  w.  of  Schenectady.  I 
stopped  here  z  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-companions,  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  Canajoharie,  at  8 
o'clock,  30  m.  from  the  start  at  Hoffman's.  For  i  m.  or  so  through  Fulton- 
ville,  which  is  opposite  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. 

The  hotel  accommodations  were  satisfactory,  and  starting  at  8  o'clock 
Wednesday  morning,  I  spun  along  smoothly  for  more  than  4  m.,  to  a  point 
beyond  Fort  Plain.  Then  followed  \\  h.  in  which  I  did  considerable  walking 
up  and  down  hill,  and  accomplished  4J  m.  Resuming  the  tow-path  at  10  o'clock, 
at  the  bridge  opposite  St.  Johnsville,  I  rode  along  it  for  exactly  10  m.,  ending 
at  Little  Falls  at  12.20  p.  m.  This  section  of  the  path  averaged  the  best  of 
any  in  my  experience,  and  the  last  \  m.  or  so  really  admitted  of  rapid  riding. 
There  are  several  good  hotels  here,  up  on  the  hill.  The  one  I  happened  to 
enter  was  the  Givan  House,  where  the  dinner  was  satisfactory.  After  a  2  h. 
stop,  I  took  the  path  for  3i  m.  {\  h.),  and  then  went  in  swimming  for  i  h.,  or 
until  the  lock-keeper  (who  lent  me  a  towel  and  refused  to  take  any  pay  there- 
for) came  down  to  the  bushes  to  see  if  I  hadn't  been  drowned.  An  hour 
later,  6  m.  on,  I  took  the  turnpike,  and  went  through  Ilion  and  Frankfort, 
2j  m.  in  17  min.  Then  the  road  grew  gradually  poorer,  until  at  6  o'clock  I 
was  tempted  to  try  the  tow-path  again,  along  which  I  slowly  ground  my  way 
for  2\  m.,  until  darkness  stopped  me  about  7.    Then  I  got  aboard  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}  m.,  and  my  ride  thence  to  Oneida, ending 
about  half  past  5  o'clock  the  next  afternoon,  was  30  m.,  the  cyclometer  regis- 
tering I  io|  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.'8  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, 1  found 
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, 
13}  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 

*In  June,  1883,  S.  A.  Freer,  Captain  of  the  Rome  B.  C,  with  two  members,  E.  P.  Hovey 
and  W.  I.  Baxter,  wheeled  from  that  place  to  Aabom,  between  6  a.  m.  and  7.30  p.  m., — taking 
breakfast  at  Oneida,  13  m.,  and  dinner  at  Syracuae,  asm.  beyond.  Another  member  of  the  dnb, 
F.  H.  White,  drove  a  s6.in.  Expert  91  m.  in  8|  h.  (Aug.  11,  '84),— going  from  Rome  to  a  place 
called  Geddes,  beyond  Syracuse,  and  returoing  immediately  by  the  same  road,  which  is  a  very 
hlBy  one,  with  many  soft  and  sandy  places.  Later  in  the  same  month,  he  covered  the  distance 
bom  Watertown  (through  Martinsburg  and  Boonville)  to  Rome  in  9  h.  of  actual  riding.  "  In 
ndng,  be  holds  the  Championship  of  Oneida  and  Madison  counties,  though  he  is  scarcely  18 
yean  of  age,  and  has  never  had  any  regular  training  whatever. "—(J.  M.  Barton,  March  a,  '85.) 


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  whechnen, 
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,  I'm  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  fiag-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  diat 
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,  303 

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  flew  swiftly  across  it  a  good  many  times,  gazing 
ap  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  discour«^ingly  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 ;  ahd  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  ^tone 
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,  3J  ra.  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  1.,  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  22J  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  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  walking  was  often  difficult.  Just  a  little  before  reaching  the  Half  Way 
House,  I  mounted  again  and  went  4  m.,  by  excellent  road,  to  Bay  View 
House.  After  8  m.  more  of  good  riding,  darkness  overtook  me ;  also  an 
honest  farmer,  who  said  I  might  stay  overnight  at  his  stone  house,  i  m.  be- 
yond.   Thence,  therefore,  I  walked,  arriving  at  7.30  p.  m.,  38  m.  from  Niagara. 

The  next  day,  between  7  a.  m.  and  1145  p.  m.,  I  rode  along  Lake  Erie  a 
distance  which  the  cyclometer  registered  at  a  trifle  less  than  73  m.  I  started 
at  the  farmer's  stone  house,  some  17  m.  below  Buffalo,  and  finished  at  the  Reed 
House  in  Erie,  whither  I  had  despatched  my  bagg^^e  the  previous  morning, 
when  I  left  Niagara.  The  so-called  Ridge  Road,  which  I  have  mentioned  as 
beginning  to  be  ridable  4  m.  from  BufEalo,  continues  along  the  lake  side  for 
something  more  than  100  m.  In  a  few  cases  it  approaches  close  to  the 
water,  but  its  general  course  is  i  or  2  m.  removed  from  the  same.  Sometimes 
the  intervening  land  is  even  wider,  though  the  rider  cannot  go  many  m. 
without  finding  the  lake  on  his  horizon  at  the  n.  or  w.,  and  certain  of  the 
water  views  are  extremely  attractive.  Fine  sand,  whose  particles  have  the 
quality  of  packing  tightly  together,  is  the  material  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  road,  even  approximately  as  long,  whose  average  smooth- 
ness is  equal  to  this  one.  ^ 

My  first  dismount  of  Friday  was  caused  by  a  log  in  the  roadway,  just  11  m. 
from  the  start ;  time,  i  h.  20  min.,  during  which  I  had  climbed  several  stiff 
hills,  and  generally  faced  a  brisk  breeze.  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  previous  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,  up  which  I  walked.     Leaving 


^The  date  "  t88o  "  must  be  remembered  as  attaching  to  this  remark.  Three  yean  later,  in 
the  course  of  my  1,400  m.  straightaway  tour,  1  found  four  other  100  m.  stretches,  which  are  iairiy 
comparable  to  this  one,  —  the  first  three  of  them  being  in  Canada.  Between  Windsor,  which  is 
opposite  Detroit,  and  Clearfield,  I  traversed  100  m.  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,  '83),  1 
rode  nearly  73  m.,  or  almost  exactly  the  distance  ridden  on  this  first  day  of  mine  along  the  s.  of 
(he  lake,  — though  I  took  no  other  such  long  day's  ride  during  the  three  intermediate  years. 
Three  days  later  I  rode  from  L.ondon  n.  e.  to  Goderich  on  Lake  Huron,  and  then  s.  e.  to  Mitdi- 
eU,  100  ra.,  in  20  h.  The  third  Canadian  stretch  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  ra.  Its  hills  are  all  ridable  by  the  bicycle,  bat  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  loo-m.  race.  Thomas  Stevens  told  me  that  this  was  by  far  the 
smoothest  stretch  which  he  met  with  in  trailing  across  the  continent  from  San  Francisco  to  Bos- 
ton (3,700  m.)>  and  thore  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  the  best  e.  and  w.  road  in  the  Union.  No  one 
has  answered  my  challenge  of  four  year  ago,  by  trying  to  "  print  a  description  of  a  better  course 
for  long-distance  racing  "  ;  and  I  am  sure  that  no  such  course  exists  within  the  national  domain. 


ERTE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE,  205 

Silver  Creek  at  10.15  a.  m.,  I  arrived  at  the  hotel  in  Fredonia  2  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.  Westiield,  not  quite  15  m.  on,  was 
reached  at  4.30  P.  M.,  in  a  little  less  than  2  h.,  and  here  I  loafed  \  h.  on  the 
green,  amid  a  congenial  rabble  of  small  boys.  Not  long  afterwards  I  crossed 
into  the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  and  at  7.10  reached  the  Haynes  Hotel  in  North 
East,  15  m.  on  and  57 J  m.  from  the  start, — 12  h.  before.  This  was  7  m.  more 
than  my  previous  "  best  day*s  record,"  and  I  should  not  have  attempted  to 
better  it,  now  that  darkness  had  rushed  on,  were  it  not  that  the  vision  of  the 
dry  clothes  awaiting  me  in  Erie,  some  15  m.  beyond,  irresistibly  beckoned  me 
thither  where  I  could  wash  and  be  cleaned.  The  adverse  wind  of  the  day 
had  meanwhile  died  out ;  the  road  was  reported  to  me  to  be  smooth  and 
level,  and  the  moon  gave  promise  of  lighting  the  way.  Starting  at  8.15,  riding 
slowly,  when  the  moon  favored,  and  walking  when  the  clouds  obscured  its 
face,  I  reached  the  brick  sidewalks  of  Erie,  just  14  m.,  in  exactly  3  h.  Rather 
more  than  i  J  m.  beyond  was  the  hotel,  inside  of  which  I  found  my  valise,  in- 
side of  which  valise  I  found  my  night-shirt,  inside  of  which  night-shirt  sleep 
soon  found  me^  enjoying  the  repose  I  had  fairly  earned. 

I  did  not  enjoy  it  more  than  4  h.,  however,  for  the  rattling  of  breakfast 
dishes  aroused  me  early,  and  at  9.30  I  mounted  my  wheel  again  for  an  excur- 
sion to  Ashtabula.  At  10  o'clock,  when  the  cyclometer  registered  the  com- 
pletion of  the  i,oooth  m.  of  my  riding  of  1880, 1  made  my  second  mount  and 
went  6  m.,  or  until  a  horse  persuaded  me  to  stop.  The  green  in  Girard,  16J 
m.  from  Erie,  was  reached  at  12.30  P.  M.  Beyond  here,  5  m.,  40  min.  of  riding 
time,  I  found  the  hotel  in  East  Springfield,  where,  for  its  dear  name's  sake,  I 
stopped  I J  h.  for  dinner.  The  best  thing  I  could  do  to  "  celebrate  "  West 
Springfield,  which  is  4  m.  further  on,  and  which  occupies  the  extreme  n.  w. 
comer  of  Pennsylvania,  was  to  take  a  drink  at  the  public  pump  in  front  of 
the  post-office.  I  entered  Ohio  at  4.40  P.  M.  in  front  of  the  State  Line  House, 
so  called  because  standing  in  two  States, — the  distance  being  28  m.  from 
Erie;  thence  to  the  hotel  in  Ashtabula,  which  I  reached  at  8.10  P.  M.  (16  m.), 
the  roads  were  generally  sandy,  and  in  many  cases  quite  unridable,  and  about 
all  the  good  wheeling  I  found  was  on  the  sidewalks.  Darkness  forced  me  to 
walk  for  nearly  all  of  the  last  7  m.,  thohgh  the  moonlight  would  once  in  a 
while  be  bright  enough  to  encourage  a  mount.  A  midnight  ride  to  the  r. 
r.  station  brought  up  my  day's  record  to  45  m.,  and  so  made  the  length  of  my 
three  days*  tour  1 56  m. 

Sunday  I  observed  properly  as  a  day  of  rest,  though  it  was  3  a.  m.  when 
I  got  to  bed  again  at  the  Reed  House,  in  Erie.  On  this  second  occasion,  I 
secured  a  better  room,  where  the  rattle  of  the  breakfast  dishes  troubled  me 
not.  The  weather,  in  contrast  to  that  of  the  previous  days,  was  oppressively 
sultry,  so  that  the  reading  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield's  travels  was  as  vigorous 
athletic  exercise  as  I  cared  to  take ;  but  Monday's  air  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  dear 
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 J  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  ne  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  descrip- 
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.  towaids 


ERIE  CANAL  AND  LAKE  ERIE.  307 

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  clifiFs.  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,  4f  m.  beyond,  I  turned  to  the  1.,  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  *•  coaJsting"  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." 
T  reached  the  hotel  there  at  9  o'clock,  lo}  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,  I  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 
m  }  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  {}Vheelma$t^  Dec,  1^3,  pp. 
199-202)  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  Oleao,  N. 
Y.,  600  m.  across  two  States,  I  condense  the  following  sommary  :  "  Leaving  Boston,  July  3, 
on  a  53-in.  Invincible,  unencumbered  with  baggage,  I  breakfasted  at  Natick,  toiled  throng  the 
mud  by  Shrewsbury  route  to  Worcester  at  a.45  p.  m.,  and  took  train  to  Palmer,  as  I  was  loidthe 
intermediate  sand  was  well-nigh  impassable.  Reached  Springfield  at  3  p.  m.  next  day,  with  a 
record  of  22  m.  in  4  h.;  and  early  on  5th  covered  zo  m.  to  Westfield,  n<rt  much  the  worse  for 
mud,  and  spent  rest  of  day  in  dragging  myself  through  Russell,  to  the  Mountain  House  in  Bland- 
ford,  where  stayed  all  night.  The  view  to  be  had  at  this  point  pays  one  for  the  atmggle,  and 
the  picture  of  the  valley  beneath  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  can  never  be  forgotten.  The  foordi 
day  took  me  to  West  Stockbridge,  29  m.,  by  way  of  N.  Blandford,  W.  Becket  and  E.  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  hlUs  to  mount,  as  I  passed  through  £.  Chatham,  Maiden  Bridge,  W.  Nassau  and  E 
Schodack.  I  rested  there  for  the  day  on  account  of  intense  heat,  and  then  proceeded  to  Tror 
where  I  stayed  Sunday.  Starting  at  4.30  a.  m.  on  the  9th,  t  breakfasted  at  Riverside  Faric,  8 
m.,  and  then  |M-oceeded  to  Saratoga,  32  m.  in  3}  h.,  the  bard  clay  road  being  in  fine  oonditioiL 
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 '  had  plowed  up  the  road ;  then,  almost  fainting,  beneath  the  boiltng  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  beat, 
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.  JohnsviUe  and  Little  Falls  to  Herkimer, — making  57  m.  for 
the  day.  Spent  Friday  visiting  places  of  local  interest  (including  the  Spinner  farm,  whence  an 
excellent  view  of  the  valley  up  and  down,  for  25  m.,  is  to  be  had),  and  on  Saturday  made  loqg 
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  ih.  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  railvray  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  Senate  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  aider 
to  visit  the  State  fish-hatching  establishment,  and  rolled  through  Le  Roy  to  Batavia,  ^liience  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  i  h.,  continuing 
thence  through  E.  Aurora,  Yorkshire  and  Frankltnville  to  Olean  at  11.30  p.  m.  This  com- 
pleted my  tour  of  615  m.,  in  a  little  more  than  13  days  of  travel  (July  3-21),  which  included  <^ 
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,  lat  as  the  worst  in  a  2 


XVI. 

NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS.* 

It  can  hardly  be  called  the  part  of  wisdom  to  start  on  an  open-air  pleasure- 
trip  just  in  advance  of  the  time  when  the  equinoctial  storm  is  expected ;  but 
inasmuch  as  in  1880  I  rode  pretty  continuously  from  the  6th  to  the  24th  of 
September  without  being  much  interfered  with  by  rain,  I  made  bold,  in  1882, 
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  s.,but 
the  sun  shone  brilliantly,  so  that  the  heat  was  extreme,  spite  of  the  motion  of 
the  boat  As  Albany  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  that  city,  at 
half-past  X  in  the  morning,  and  hurried  across  to  the  shelter  of  Bagg's  Hotel. 
It  had  long  been  my  ambition  to  enroll  myself  among  the  guests  of  that  an- 
cient and  honorable  caravansary ;  but  fate  had  hitherto  frustrated  my  hopes. 
Now,  at  last,  I  was  on  the  point  of  being  gratified,  and  of  slumbering 
soundly  in  "  the  very  best  room  in  the  hotel,"  as  a  reward  for  my  previous 
week  of  hard  work  and  little  sleep.  But  no  1  This  dream  of  bliss  was  rudely 
dispelled,  and  my  family  pride  suffered  a  tremendous  shock  when  the  night 
clerk  told  me  that  the  house  was  jammed  full,  and  that  "  a  cot  in  the  parlor 
was  the  best  he  could  do  for  me."  As  I  couldn't  well  look  elsewhere  for 
lodgings,  in  a  rain-storm,  at  that  hour  of  the  morning,  I  had  no  optfon  but  to 
humbly  accept  the  "cot"  in  the  designated  "  parlor,"  though  I  found  it  already 
tenanted  by  four  other  occupants  of  **  cots,"  who  had  closed  all  the  windows, 
and  were  snoring,  in  placid  disregard  of  the  stifling  atmosphere.  Amid  these 
exasperating  surroundings  I  helplessly  gnashed  my  teeth  for  four  mortal 
hours,  then  cooled  my  rage  by  a  plunge  in  the  bath-tub,  and  went  down  to  the 
breakfast-table  to  meet  there  with  G.  C.  S.,  who  had  come  to  Utica  by  ap- 
pointment, in  order  that  we  might  ride  together  thence  to  Alexandria  Bay,  on 
the  St.  Lawrence  river,  130  m.  away.  The  breakfast  was  not  much  better 
than  the  cot,  but  both  had  to  be  paid  for  at  a  good,  stiff  price. 

S.  reported  that  the  severe  storm  of  the  previous  day  and  night  had  badly 
affected  the  roads  leading  in  that  direction,  and,  perhaps,  made  them  unrida- 
ble;  and  the  clouds,  with  an  occasional  drizzle  of  rain,  gave  threats  of  further 
trouble ;  but,  at  a  little  before  11  o'clock,  we  decided  to  take  the  chances,  and 
so  started  off,  under  the  pilotage  of  a  local  wheelman,  along  the  stone,  brick, 

»From  TJk^  tyfuelmam,  January,  1883,  pp.  248-253  ("Four  Hundred  Miles"). 
14 


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.  Aften  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  tham  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,  1  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  fint 
chance  which  comes  to  me  for  making  trial  of  it.  The  approximate  distances,  as  he  recaDed 
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,  3  n.. 
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 
gotge  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  jfirst  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  bind- 
mark  and  rendezvous.    About  1  m.  before  reaching  it,  the  traveler  must  climb  a  steep  and  long 


NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS.   211 

This  is  equivalent  to  high  praise  of  the  track,  for  I  rarely  ride  faster  than  6 
m.  an  hoar  on  a  good  road,  and  5  m.  an  hour  on  an  average  one.  Two  and  a 
half  miles  more,  mostly  of  sidewalk  riding,  brought  me  to  the  canal  bridge 
at  Rome,  where  I  spent  \  h.  in  conversation  with  the  local  wheelmen,  who 
urged  me  to  stay  over  for  the  afternoon  and  participate  in  the  parade  which 
they  had  agreed  to  make  in  connection  with  the  county  fair.  Resisting  their 
blandishments,  I  jogged  on,  at  a  slower  pace  than  before,— though  the  road 
was  almost  continuously  ridable,  which  was  not  the  case  when  I  first  tried  it, 
two  years  earlier, — until,  in  two  h.,  I  had  covered  8^  m.  Then  the  rain  over> 
took  me  again,  almost  in  the  identical  spot  where  it  overtook  me  in  1880. 

bill  (planked),  though  his  labors  will  be  rewarded  by  the  beauties  which  the  deep  goi^ge  and  the 
niahing  waters  here  present  to  him.  A  fine  road  then  stretches  for  4  m.  to  the  hotel  and  sum> 
mer  resort  kept  by  Griff  Evans  at  Noblesboro,  where  the  creek  must  be  crossed  and  a  steep, 
rMq^h  hill  ascended,  passing  '*  BethuneTille,"  the  relics  of  an  attempted  village,  and  finding  then 
4  m.  of  good  roods  to  Morehouseville.  Hoffmaster's  "  Hunter's  Home  "  is  3  m.  beyond,  au  the 
end  of  the  valley  and  surrounded  by  mountains,  and  the  approach  to  it  is  ridable  except  the  final 
hiHsw  It  is  the  last  place  where  food  and  lodging  may  be  obtained  before  entering  "  the 
woods** ;  and  Piseco  Lake,  a  resort  for  fishing  parties,  is  only  7  m.  beyond.  Mr.  Barton  assured 
me  that  the  lover  of  nature  will  find  this  section  of  the  wilderness  worthier  of  its  name  than  the 
more  frequented  parts  which  are  entered  from  Lake  Creorge  and  Lake  Champlain  ;  and  he  also 
ibCmhmI  to  *'  The  Adirondack  Surveys,"  by  Verplank  Colvin,  as  an  authority  for  the  topography 
of  the  region.  Stoddard's  map  of  the  Adirondacks  (see  description,  p.  186)  shows  that  the  lake 
just  named  is  connected  with  Lake  Pleasant  by  a  road  about  10  m.  long,  and  that  "  important 
roods "  extend  from  it  (at  the  post-offices  of  both  Sageville  and  Newton  Comers)  28  \  m.  to 
NonhviDe,  the  terminus  of  a  branch  railway  of  a6  m.  to  Fonda  on  the  main  line.  The  roads 
from  the  two  ends  of  Lake  Pleasant  make  a  junction  at  Wellstown  (6  m.),  and  follow  the  Sacon- 
daga  river  a.  from  that  point  to  Northville ;  but  another  "  important  road  "  stretches  n.  e.  from 
Wellstown,  along  the  east  branch  of  that  river,  25  m.  to  North  Creek,  which  is  the  terminus  of 
the  branch  railway  from  Saratoga,  57  m.  The  "  important  road  "  continues  on  to  Olmstead- 
ville  p.  o.,  5  m.;  Pottersville  p.  o.,  7  m. ;  thence  along  the  lake  to  Schroon  Lake  p.  o.,  8  m. ; 
thence  along  the  river  to  Schroon  River  p.  o.,  9  m. ;  continuing  n.  e.  to  Elizabethtown,  20  m., 
and  thence  to  Keeaville,  Ausable  Chasm  and  Port  Kent  (25-30  m.),  on  Lake  Champlain  about 
15  m.  8.  of  Piattsbuig.  From  Westport,  on  that  lake,  an  8  m.  "  important  road  "  to  Elizabeth- 
town  is  shown,  and  from  Port  Henry  there  are  two  such  roads,  each  about  17  m.  long,  which 
meet  the  before  described  ElizabetHtown-Schroon  Lake  road  at  points  called  Deadwater  and 
North  Hudson,  about  s  »•  apart.  From  Ticonderoga,  on  Lake  George,  there  is  an  "  im- 
portant road  "  of  13  m.  to  Paradox  p.  o.,  whence  one  branch  of  it  runs  s.  w.  f  or  5  m.  along  the 
lake  of  that  name  to  Schroon  Lake,  and  the  other  goes  n.  w.  a  similar  distance  through  Hamond- 
riUe  to  Schroon  River  p.  o.  From  Sabbath  Day  Point  p.  o.  on  Lake  George,  an  "  important 
road  "  extends  n.  15  m.  to  Ticonderoga,  and  one  extends  s.  along  the  lake  a  similar  distance  to 
Caldwell ;  whence  another  "  important  road  "  of  27  m.  extends  n.  w.  to  North  Creek  (through 
Warrensburg,  the  Glen  and  Riverside).  The  map-maker's  use  of  the  adjective  "  important " 
simidy  signifies  that  the  roads  are  traversed  by  regular  lines  of  stages  or  passei^er  wagons ;  but 
I  think  it  likely  that  many  of  them  are  fairly  practicable  for  bicycling.  At  all  events,  if  I  ever 
have  the  luck  to  reach  the  edge  of  the  wildness  at  Morehouseville,  by  the  route  given  in  the 
first  lines  of  this  paragraph,  I  shall  be  pretty  certain  to  push  on  as  far  as  Schroon  Lake,  and  I 
shall  hope  to  traverse  the  whole  130  m.  to  Ausable  Chasm.  "  Through  the  Adirondacks"  might 
make  a  taking  title  for  a  chapter  in  "  My  Second  Ten  Thousand."  Meanwhile,  I  shall  be  glad 
to  receive  exact  details  of  the  designated  roads,  from  wheelmen  or  others  who  may  have  taken 
caicfttl  notice  of  them. 


212  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

On  that  occasion  I  wisely  rushed  on,  over  a  smooth  road,  to  the  r.  r.  statioo 
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  2^0  p.  M.,  I  reached  the  Eagle  Hotel  in 
that  city,  31 J  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  35 
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  i^  h.  for  breakfast.  Mounting  again  at  9, 1 
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  la 
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  ci 


iVIAGAJ^A  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS.  213 

Geneva,  2}  m.  beyond.    The  road  for  most  of  that  distance  lay  close  beside 
the  beautifully  blue  waters  of  the  lake,  and  a  ^  m.  of  deep  sand  supplied  the 
only  really  unridable  section  encountered  during  the  entire  day.    Leaving 
Geneva  at  2.30  P.  M^  after  a  rest  of  2  h.,  I  made  my  first  halt  on  a  hill-top  at 
3  o'cl9ck,  about  4  m.  out.    Two  miles  beyond  this,  at  3.40, 1  encountered  the 
sign  **  10  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 
about  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  the  final  one 
in  September,  I  rode  from  Canandaigua  to  East  Bloomfield  in  i^h.,  the  dis- 
tance being  9  m.  by  actual  survey,  though  my  cyclometer  called  it  x^  m.  less. 
Resuming  my  ride  at  3.40, 1  reached  West  Bloomfield,  6  m.,  at  4.30;  Lima, 
2j  m.,  at  5.10;  West  Avon,  sJ  m.,  at  6.05;  and  Avon  Springs,  i  m.,  through 
the  deep  dust  and  in  the  gathering  dusk,  at  6.18.    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  24f  m.    The  road  seemed  generally 
to  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 
keeps  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  150  m.  of  road  thus  described  as  traversed  by  me  between  Utica  and 
Avon  Springs,  and  I  do  not  suppose  that  the  stretch  of  25  m.  which  I  took 
by  rail  forms  any  exception  to  it.    Long-continued  rain  would  make  most  of 
the  road  unfit  for  bicycling,  because  the  clay  is  very  sticky  when  wet,  and  very 
rough  when  dry,  until  a  good  deal  of  wagon  traffic  has  hammered  it  into 
smoothness.     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  up  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  troublesome,  and  there  are  not  many  stretches  of  sand.    The  stoniest 
and  sandiest  section  of  all  is  that  between  Whitestown  and  Holland  Patent. 

The  first  day  of  October  supplied  ideal  conditions  for  bicycling,  and  I 
was  encouraged  thereby  to  turn  my  46  in.  wheel  until  the  cyclometer  regis- 
tered upwards  of  46  m.  Starting  from  Avon  Springs  at  6.30, 1  reached  Gen- 
esee, 8  m.,  at  8 ;  and  as  breakfast  was  not  ready  at  the  hotels  there,  I  kept 
on  for  another  h.,  5  m.,  to  the  Scoville  House,  in  Mount  Morris.  To  reach 
this  town  one  crosses  to  the  w.  side  of  the  valley,  at  a  point  4  m.  below  Gen- 
esee, instead  of  keeping  straight  down  the  e.  side  on  the  direct  road  to  Dans- 
ville.    When  I  emerged  from  the  hotel,  at  10.30, 1  observed  a  bicycler  coming 


214  TEN  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  ▼ari- 
ous  people  whom  we  accosted  had  various  conflicting  opinions  as  to  its  being 
the  proper  road  to  Portage ;  and,  at  1 2.30,  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,  in 
1}  h.;  and  while  I  tarried  a  similar  period  to  indulge  in  an  elaborate  dinner,, 
my  companion  (A.  B.  F.),  without  stopping  for  any  food  at  all,  speeded  away 
on  his  return  trip,  saying  that  he  must  needs  ride  35  m.  more  to  reach  his 
home  in  Fowlerville.  I  hope  he  got  there  duly ;  but  I  myself  put  in  only 
16  m.  additional  that  afternoon,  ending  at  6.30  o'clock  at  Brushville.  This  b 
the  popular  title  of  the  hamlet  which  is  called  Tuscarora  on  the  maps,  and  I 
made  quite  a  sensation  among  the  loungers  in  front  of  the  "  Tuscarora  House,** 
when  my  ghostly  garments  suddenly  emerged  from  the  twilight  into  their  line 
of  vision.  From  Dansville  I  rode  up  the  e.  side  of  the  valley,  nearly  8^  m.  in  i^ 
h. ;  then  came  across  the  meadow  bottom,  3  m.,  over  a  black<lay  rosul  so  rough 
as  to  be  just  barely  ridable;  then  up  the  main  road  of  the  forenoon,  \  m.,  to 
the  ravine  where  the  old  canal  path  branches  off ;  and  thence,  by  a  rather 
sandy  and  hilly  road  of  4  m.,  to  Brushville.  Between  Mount  Morris  and 
Dansville  a  bicycler  may  make  a  circuit  of  about  30  m.,  up  one  side  the  valley 
and  down  the  other,  over  roads  of  almost  continual  smoothness  and  with  very 
few  difficult  grades,  —  his  eyes  all  the  while  sweeping  over  a  wide  stretch  <rf 
attractive  and  varying  scenery. 

The  Genesee  river  is  represented  in  the  region  just  named  only  by  one  of 
its  branches ;  and  the  longer  Genesee  valley,  through  which  that  river  runs,  I 
entered  first  at  Portage,  about  13^  m.  from  Brushville,  at  11  o'clock  the  ioV 
lowing  forenoon.  I  started  at  half-past  6  and  stopped  i  h.  in  Nunda,  for 
breakfast,  which  cost  me  50  c.,  though  it  was  certainly  no  better  than  my 
supper  of  the  night  before,  whose  cost  combined  with  that  of  my  **  best  parlor 
bed-room  *'  was  only  60  c.  A  vote  of  "  no  license  **  in  Nunda  had  resulted  in 
shutting  up  the  two  chief  hotels,  and  the  proprietor  of  this  wretched  little 
"  Eagle  "  tavern  was,  perhaps,  encouraged  thereby  to  charge  double  rates,  in 
compensation  for  his  temperance  principles.  At  the  Garrison  House,  in 
Caneadea,  where  I  spent  the  next  night,  I  was  also  given  the  best  bed-room, 
and  the  charge  for  supper  and  lodging  combined  was  only  half  a  dollar.  I 
remained  at  Portage  about  3  h.,  admiring  its  wonderful  waterfalls  and  gorges 
and  being  duly  impressed  by  the  high  r.  r.  bridge.*     The  descent  from  the  sta- 


'  Portage  was  the  last  of  the  "  lesser  waterfalls  "  visited  by  me  on  this  tour,  and  the  greater 
one  called  Niagara  was  not  visited  at  all.  Yet  I  have  not  taken  itt  noble  name  in  vain,  as  a  tide 
to  the  present  chapter,  for  it  serves  well  to  fix  in  the  reader's  mind  the  general  locality  to  1 
most  of  the  reported  roads  belong,  and  it  is  the  natural  objective  point  towards  which  the  t 
turns  from  either  of  the  lesser  waterfalls.  My  own  ride  without  dismount  from  Niagara  to  Buf- 
falo (Sept  16,  *8o)  has  been  described  on  p.  302  ;  and  its  recent  repobfication  in  BL  WoridtaxatA 


JV/AGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS. 


215 


correspondents  of  that  paper  (May  15,  29,  1885,  pp.  33,  Sa)  to  publi&h  other  rides  00  the  same 
oourse,  thus  :  "A  more  unridable,  humpy,  lumpy,  stony,  measly  road  than  the  one  to  the  FaUs, 
from  Buffalo,  *  along  the  banks  of  the  beautiful  Ni^ara,*  via  Tooawanda,  was  never  seen,  even 
m  the  troubled  nightmare  of  the  wheelman  whose  last  header  was  still  made  visible  to  all  by 
streaks  of  court  plaster.  Don't  you  ever  try  tltat  road  with  a  bicycle.  A  run  to  Aurora,  and  a 
visit  to  the  great  stock-fanns  would  be  far  preferable,  for  the  road  is  magnificent,  and  the 
scenery  along  the  Caaenovia  is  very  charming.  "  Such  is  testimony  of  W.  W.  Canfield,  Captain 
of  the  Randolph  B.  C,  who  was  one  of  eight  members  thereof  that  "  took  a  trip  of  350  m. 
throng  Western  New  York  in  the  summer  of  '84  " ;  and  hisstory  was  confirmed  by  "  Bi.  Son," 
a  BofiEalo  rider,  thus :  "  The  road  was  so  rough,  on  my  June  trials  of  it,  in  '83  and  '84,  that  at 
the  end  of  each  of  them  I  could  have  endorsed  what  Mr.  Canfield  says ;  but  in  Sept.,  '84, 1  found 
it  extremely  and  most  surprisingly  good.  Indeed,  the  distance  from  Niagara  to  Tonawanda  was 
made  without  dismount,  and  the  rest  of  it  also  without  a  forced  stop.  For  16  m.  from  Buffalo  the 
surface  is  clay,  and  it  requires  a  long  dry  spell  to  produce  smooth  wheeling."  Another  writer  of 
the  ssune  dty  adds :  "  Left  Buffalo  a  few  dayn  since,  at  5.15  a.  m.,  passed  Tonawanda  at  6.15^ 
La  Salle  at  7,  and  reached  Niagara  Falls  at  7.35,  having  done  the  whole  ai  m.  without  dismount, 
and  at  the  rate  of  9  m.  an  hour. " 

Portage  is  about  55  m.  from  Buffalo  and  35  m.  from  Batavia,  and  the  road  connecting  the 
two  latter  places  is  described  as  follows  in  the  prospectus  of  the  "  Big  Four  Tour  "  (fVJkee/, 
April  3,  '85)  :  "  To  Lancaster  is  10  m.  of  as  good  bicycling  as  one  could  wish ;  and  the  next 
10  m.,  to  the  <|uiet  little  village  of  Alden,  will  be  agood  breather  for  theaftemoon's run  of  ao  m., 
to  Batavia.  Buffalo  wheelmen  consider  5^  h.  of  riding,  for  the  whole  40  m. ,  a  fair  and  easy  pace. " 
The  ronte  thence  to  Rochester  is  given  by  the  prospectus,  on  the  authority  of  an  old  tourist, 
thus  :  "  From  Batavia  to  Byron  Center  is  10  m.  of  splendid  road,  which  can  be  made  in  i  h. 
with  ease.  The  country  is  undulating,  with  level  stretches.  To  Beigen,  6  m.  further,  the  road 
continues  uniformly  good.  For  a  short  distance  out  of  Bergen,  say  for  3  m.,  the  road  is  sandy, 
but  with  a  side-path  to  the  1.  of  the  carriage  road  which  is  superb  for  wheeling.  Beyond  this 
point  through  Churchville,  on  to  within  5  m.  of  Rochester,  it  gets  bard  and  smooth.  A  a  m. 
interim  of  sand  then  occurs,  with  side-path,  and  then  a  perfect  road  leads  into  Rochester.  I  have 
made  the  36  m.  from  Batavia  to  Rochester  numy  times  in  4  h.  of  actual  riding.  The  total  dis- 
tance from  Buffalo  to  Rochester  has  been  ridden  in  8  h.  From  Powers's  Hotel  we  shall  go 
wheeling  down  past  Genesee  Falls  and  along  the  Genesee  river  bank  to  Lake  Ontario.  This  is 
Rochester's  great  boulevard  and  driveway,  and  is  8  ro.  of  down-hill  perfection." 

Concerning  this  last  mentioned  waterfall  I  cannot  do  better  than  to  quote  from  Howells's 
"  Their  Wedding  Journey  "(pp.  106-112):  "The  only  definite  association  with  Rochester  in 
the  mind  of  Basil  was  the  tragically  romantic  thought  that  here  Sam  Patch  met  his  fate.  So  he 
answered :  '  Isabel,  your  ignorance  of  all  that  an  American  woman  should  be  proud  of  distresses 
me.  Have  you  really,  then,  never  heard  of  the  man  who  invented  the  saying,  "  Some  things  can 
be  done  as  well  as  others,"  and  proved  it  by  jumping  over  Niagara  Falls  twice  ?  Spurred  on  by 
this  belief,  he  attempted  the  leap  of  the  Genesee  Falls.  The  leap  was  easy  enough,  but  the 
coming  up  again  was  another  matter.  He  failed  in  that.  It  was  the  one  thing  that  could  not 
be  done  as  well  as  others.  We  are  within  ten  minutes*  walk  of  these  falls,  just  now.'  'Then 
let's  go  to  them  at  once !'  cried  Isabel.  Beyond  a  broad  planking  above  the  river,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  railway  station,  they  found,  by  dint  of  much  asking,  a  street  winding  up  the  hill^side 
to  the  left,  and  leading  to  the  German  bierhaus  that  g^ves  access  to  the  best  view  of  the  cataract. 
The  Americans  have  characteristically  bordered  the  river  with  manufactories,  making  every  drop 
irork  its  passage  to  the  brink ;  while  the  Germans  have  as  characteristically  made  use  of  the  beauty 
left  over,  and  built  a  bierhaus  where  they  may  regale  both  soul  and  sense  in  the  presence  of  the  cata- 
ract. Through  garden-ground  the  tourists  were  led  by  their  guide  to  a  small  pavilion  that  stood  on 
the  edge  of  thepredpitous  shore,  and  commanded  a  perfect  view  of  the  falls.  Something  of  defi- 
,»j^y«f«  was  to  be  desired  in  the  spectacle,  but  there  was  ample  compensation  in  the  mystery  with 
iHuch  the  broad  effulgence  and  the  dense,  unluminous shadows  of  the  moonshine  invested  it.  The 
l^t  touched  all  the  tops  of  the  rapids,  that  seemed  to  writhe  away  from  the  brink  of  the  cataract. 


2i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

and  then  desperately  breaking  and  perishing  to  fall,  the  white  disembodied  ghosts  of  rapids,  do«Ri 
to  the  bottom  of  the  vast  and  deep  ravine  through  which  the  river  rushed  away.  Now  the  waten 
seemed  to  maus  themselves  a  hundred  feet  high  on  a  wall  of  snowy  compactness,  now  to  (fis- 
perse  into  their  multitudinous  particles  and  hang  like  some  vaporous  doud  from  the  dxff.  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  milb 
that  supplied  their  feeble  little  needs  from  the  catar»:t*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.  '  1  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  as  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  oiu-  American  taste,  however, 
and  make  a  weak  line  at  the  end  of  the  first  stanza.  Where  the  German  bravely  said  :  S/ringt 
der  Sam  Paiseh  kAkn  und/rei,  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  flights  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  posm  dedicated  to  his  memory,  by  an  undergraduate  of  Columbia 
College,  "  McC,"  in  the  old  Knickerbocker  Magazine  (April,  1S43,  pp.  30S-310).  The  route 
through  the  Catskills,  presented  on  p.  r88,  leads  past  a  pair  of  noble  cascades,  Haines 
Falls  and  the  Kaaterskill,  whose  fame  is  not  connected  with  that  of  the  immortal  jumper,  bat 
rather  with  that  of  the  poet  Bryant,  who  wrote  : 

'Midst  jrreens  and  shades  the  Kaaterskill  leaps, 

From  cliffs  where  the  wood  flower  clings; 
All  Summer  he  moistens  his  verdant  steeps 

With  Uie  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. 

But  when  in  the  forest,  bare  and  old, 

The  blast  of  December  call»— 
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  Kaaterakill  to  Genesee  Falls  might  perhaps  prove 
worth  exploring,  through  Cooperstown  and  Sharon  Springs  to  Amsterdam  (see  p.  T97),  00  the 
Erie  Canal,  and  thence  by  roads  described  by  me  (pp.  200-202)  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  282  m.,  by 
F.  D.  Helmer,  M.  T.  Shafer,  and  R.  Thompson,  of  the  Genesee  B.  C,  beginning  Aug.  3, 18S4, 
was  thus  recorded  in  the  Rochester  Heraldoi  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  xo  m.  was  through  clayey  mud),  took  train  to  Coming  and  rode  theaoe 
to  Watkins  Glen ,  —  another  '  lesser  waterfall. *  Tuesday  morning,  they  went  to  Elmira,  doing  the 
final  6  m.  from  Horseheadsin  \  h. ;  and  they  returned  thence  to  Coming,  18  m.,  in  i]  h.,  with  but 
two  dismounts.  Taking  train  to  Horaellsville,  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  jncnic  until  4  r.  m., 
when  they  started  for  Attica,  32  m. ,  arriving  at  a  little  before  9.  Friday's  ride  was  the  longest 
of  all,  55  m.,  ending  at  Niagara  at  7.30  p.  m.,  4  h.  after  leaving  Buffalo,  where  a  halt  of  2  h.  was 


NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS.   217 

tion  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.,  eniling  at  6  o'clock.  This  made 
31  m.  for  the  day.  Next  morning  the  start  was  made  at  640,  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  £ast  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 
£rie  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 


Satiuday,  they  wheeled  to  Lockport  and  thence  took  train  for  home.  Their  cyclometer 
record  of  aSa  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  accident  was  the  breaking  of  a 
pedal-pin."  A  Buffalo  correspondent  of  the  Bi.  lVarld(Jxa.  9,  '85,  p.  155),  gives  this  account 
cf  the  last  day's  road  run  taken  by  four  members  of  the  local  club  to  Rochester,  Nov.  16 : 
"  Weather  fine  and  roads  in  excellent  shape.  Start  made  at  6.30  by  Messrs.  George  and  Ehrlicb, 
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, 
—  except  one  sandy  stretch  of  about  10  m., —  and  was  finished  at  6  p.  m.  by  the  last  named  pair, 
whoee  actual  riiSng  time  (6  h.  ao  min.  for  the  74  m.)  has  never  been  beaten  to  our  knowledge. 
Messrs.  Geoige  and  Ehrltch  finished  a  little  later.  "  Of  the  other  connection  between  the  two 
dties,a  correspondent  of  the  ff^Jkeel {Feb.  13,  '85)  thus  speaks  :  "  No  doubt  the  wheeling,  on 
the  average,  is  better  by  way  of  BaUvia ;  but  by  way  of  Lockport  there  are  some  patches  of 
roading  hard  to  beat.  The  best  route  is  to  Tonawanda,  thence  to  Martinsville,  thence  along 
n.  bank  of  Erie  canal  until  road  is  struck  leading  to  Bear  Ridge.  Surface  is  of  clay  and  very 
good  during  favorable  weather.  Bear  Ridge  road  is  part  clay  and  part  gravel,  usually  good. 
The  State  or  Canal  road  will  be  reached  at  White  Sulphur  Springs,  3^  m.  from  Lockport  The 
road  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,  bard  padced.  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. 
Near  AlbioD,  10  m.  from  Medina,  there  is  a  tough  hill  to  climb  and  a  difficult  stone  road. '' 


2i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

case ;  and  the  conditions  attaching  to  the  lo  m.  between  Almond  and  Canisteo 
were  not  dissimilar.  In  that  division  of  the  valley  included  between  Avoo 
Springs  and  Dansville,  the  material  of  the  roads  was  generally  a  sort  of  fine 
gravel,  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  11  h.  after  starting  from  Canisteo,  the  distance  being 
a  trifle  less  than  37  m.  My  only  two  stops  were  at  Cameron,  12)  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  tp 
change  to  the  highway  at  the  first  opportunity ;  and  then,  after  another  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  S  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  3J  m.,  ending  at  Waverly,*  the 

»The  captain  of  the  Binghamton  Bicycle  Qub,  C.  E.  Ttchener  (58  in.),  with  three  ol  hia 
men  —  E.  E.  Kattell  (60  in.)»  Fred  Lyon  (54  in.)  and  C.  H.  Rogers  (sa  in.)—  took  a  500.  run 
to  Waveriy,  May  18,  '83,  of  which  he  tends  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.  Croes- 
ing  here,  we  continued  along  through  the  villages  of  Vestal  and  Appalachin  to  the  ^  Isknd 


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 
lo  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  ais  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  jjros- 
pcct  may  be  had.  Further  on,  perhaps  6  or  8  m.,  comes  Rummerfield  mount- 
ain, whose  grades  must  be  walked  up  for  1  m.  or  more,  after  wl\ich  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 
Lace)rville  was  reached,  61  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-woman,  and  where  one  of  our  strongest 
riders  took  leave  of  the  excursion,  because  of  cramps  in  the  knees.  Stopping  at  Owego  about 
}  h.,  we  followed  the  bad  advice  of  a  local  rider  and  kept  to  the  n.  of  the  river,  though  we 
iiiq;ht  have  avoided  the  hills  and  secured  a  bener  surface  by  taking  the  s.  side.  We  not  only 
foood  a  big  hill  at  Tioga  Center,  but  there  was  a  succession  of  them,  all  the  way  from  Owego 
to  Waverty,  which  we  reached  at  3  p.  m.  (after  passing  Barton  and  Smithboro),  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  Bingbamton,  where  there  is  a  good  northward  connection  through  Cazenovia  to 
Syracose,  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- 
breakers,  and  in  much  of  it  a  real  "  cinder  path,"  with  gefttle  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  seasoa. 
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  took  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  18J  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  (su|>erseding  thus  a  Livingston  cyclometer  which  had 
for  a  few  weeks  displaced  it).  This  total  shows  an  average  of  28 J  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,^xcept  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 
(too  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  42  tabulated  "  routes," 
•which  embrace  more  than  1,200  m.  of  road.  A  quarter  of  the  routes  begin  at  Buffalo,  and  most 
of  the  jothers  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 
rood  surface,  by  the  initials  a.  for  asphalt,  c.  for  cby,  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 
bod ;  while  in  the  fifth  column  h.  signifies  hilly  and  I.  level ;  and  in  the  notes  t.  r.  means  '  turn 
right,*  1. 1.  '  turn  left ' ;  r.  f.,  ' right  fork '  and  1.  f.  '  left  fork.' "  The  weight  of  the  whole  is 
less  than  ^  ox.,  as  the  pages  measure  only  4  by  6  in.  and  the  paper  is  thin.  The  "routes" 
cover  seven  of  the  right-hand  inges  (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  cyding  joiumals,  mentioning  the  exact  price 
and  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  character ;  and  I  shall  devote 
some  space  in  my  final  chapter  to  enlaiging  upon  this  idea  which  the  Cunningham  Company 
thus  formulated  as  a  reason  for  *'  giving  away  to  wheel  literature  "  the  most  prominent  page  in 
their  laxge  prioe^atalogue  for  1884 :  "  By  whatever  means  the  dissemination  of  information 
upon  cycling  maners  may  be  accomplished,  it  cannot  fail  to  aid  our  purpoaes  and  benefit  our  bnsi 


222  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ness."  I  hope,  therefore,  that  the  firm  of  Bull  ft  Bowen  taxj  daiTe  a  busmeas  beDefit  fzom  the 
pains  taken  to  disseminate  a  knowledge  of  the  roads  in  the  r^<ni  around  them,  and  of  qrcfii^ 
literature ;  and  that  no  wheelman  living  in  or  visiting  that  region  will  fail  to  procure  their  excel- 
lent little  g^ide.     It  is  mailed  free  by  them  on  receipt  of  a  a  c.  stamp  at  587  Main  sL,  Bnfblo. 

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  neir 
L. ;  otherwise  level ;  clay  surface ;  first  half,  poor  \  last  half,  good."  From  Bufiblo  to  Roches- 
ter, by  way  of  the  Falls  (n.)  and  Lockport  (e.),  is  called  106  m. ;  by  direct  road,  throq^ 
Batavia  (n.  e.)i  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  difficolt  hill  be- 
tween Albion  and  Murray,  about  30  m.  before  reaching  Rochester."  In  the  direct  roote, 
"  start  out  Genesee  st. ;  from  Batavia  to  Rochester  follow  the  American  Rapid  tdegraph  "  (see 
p.  2x7).  "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.  Then  t.  1.,  and  after  x  m.  t.  r. 
to  Gainesville,  whence  the  road  is  straight  to  Portage  (64  m.  from  Buffalo).  There  go  throng 
viUage  and  up  hiU,  and  t.  r.  to  Cascade  House.  Straight  road  between  Hunt's  and  Dahon. 
The  r.  r.  is  crossed  twice  between  Swainsville  and  Garwood.  Within  x  m.  of  Arkport,  t.  L  and 
cross  the  valley.  When  i  m.  out  of  Arkport,  t.  1.,  and  after  ^  m.  t  r.  After  \  m.  more  1. 1.,  and 
in  aoo  yds.  t.  r. ;  then  3  m.  to  HomeUsville  (30  m.  from  Portage)."  My  own  longer  route  be- 
tween the  two  latter  places  is  given  on  pp.  214-2x7 ;  and  for  comparison  with  my  repent  of  ride 
from  Buffalo  to  Erie  (s.  w.),  on  pp.  203-205,  I  give  this  extract  from  the  guide :  "  From  die  cor- 
ner of  Main  st.  follow  Seneca  st  and  plank  road  to  old  covered  bridge  over  Buffalo  cre^ 
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  Westfietd.     No  other  variations  from  straight  road  for  the  whole  distance  to  Erie,  88|  ra." 

"  From  Batavia  to  Leroy,  xo  m.  e.,  with  Stafford  half-way  between,  the  level  sor&ce  of  ex- 
cellent gravel  can  be  ridden  easily  inside  of  an  hour  without  dismount.  A  similar  road  from 
Batavia  to  Attica,  i  x  m.  s.  (through  Alexander),  requires  only  one  or  two  dismounts.  From 
Medina  to  Batavia,  22  m.  (gravel,  day,  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.  s.  from  Wheatville ;  t.  1.  e.  from  Oakfield,  and  th^n  t.  r.  at  an  angle,  s.  e.  From  Leroy  vS 
Brockport,  x6  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,  X4  m.  s. 
e.,  is  a  good  arid  level  though  stony  road, — Caledonia  being  half-way.  From  Leroy  to  Perry,  so 
m.  s.  the  surface'isa  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 ;  axKl,  in 
going  from  W.  to  Silver  I^ke,  xo  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  ran 
In  this  section.  At  Saltville  cross  R.  &  P.  track ;  at  Peari  Creek  civms  bridge ;  at  Pavilion  and  at 
Pavilion  Cent  keep  straight  n.  From  Warsaw  to  Castile,  11  m.  s.  e.,  is  called  excellent,  fair  and 
good.  At  Rock  Glen  take  r.  f. ;  at  East  Gainesville  cross  Erie  track,  then  t  1.  then  t  r. 
straight  into  Castile.    Thence  n.  straight  for  5  m.,  1. 1.  to  Silver  Lake,  or  t  r.  to  Perry,  1  ra." 

Olean,  on  the  edge  of  Pennsylvania,  is  76^  m.  s.  of  Buffalo,  and  the  last  58  m.  are  said  to 
have  a  gravel  surface,  nnd  to  supply  good  or  fair  riding.  The  road  ckAely  follows  trade  of  R, 
N.  Y.  &  P.  R.  R.  The  first  r8  m.,  out  Seneca  st,  are  called  excellent  though  hilly,  with  a  dht 
or  plank  surface.  "  Then,  at  E.  Aurora,  1 1.,  and  after  |  m.  t.  r. ;  *  m.  out  of  Holland  t.  r..  and 
then  t.  L  all  the  way  to  Sardinia.    From  S.  t  r.  a  m.,  then  t  1.  1  m.    From  Olean  to  Homdls- 


NIAGARA  AND  SOME  LESSER  WATERFALLS,  223 

ville,  65  m.,  the  road  is  direct  to  Belmont^  30  m.  of  good  day;  there  1. 1.  up  the  river  to  Sdo, 
5  m.,  and  again  1. 1.  up  the  river  to  WellsviUe,  4  m.  (see  p.  317),  and  at  Andover,  9  m.  on,  t.  I. 
up  Dyke^s  creek.  After  Yorkshire  Center  take  I.  f.  to  Andover,  9  m.,  and  Almond,  4  m.  From 
Olean  to  Salamanca,  30  m.  n.  w.,  sand  prevails,  but  there  are  good  nde-paths ;  after  going 
straight  3  nL  to  Allegany,  t  r.  and  go  ix  m.  to  Carrollton,  where  t.  1.  From  Friendship  to  Olean, 
a  rouadaboot  road  of  38  m.  throogh  the  Allegany  County  oil  field,  leads  up  the  valley  3^  m.  to 
NOe,  where  t.  L  direct  down  the  valley  to  Portville,  so  m. ;  surface  of  day  and  sand  is  described 
as  fair  to  good."  (Friendship  is  xa  m.  s.  w.  of  Belfast,  mentioned  on  p.  317,  and  is  connected 
whh  it  by  a  good  level  road  of  clay.) 

Randolph,  which  is  on  the  Erie  r.  r.  about  so  m.  w.  of  Salamanca,  lies  due  s.  of  BufiEalo  by 
a  route  of  53  m.,  described  thus  :  ^'  Road  rises  gradually  to  Hamburgh,  xo  m.  Between  Water 
Valley  and  £den  Valley  take  r.  f .  On  leaving  Eden  Center  take  r.  f .  at  foot  of  hill.  From 
North  Collins  1. 1.  on  smooth  road  till  near  Versailles,  then  t.  r.  and  cross  bridge.  After  leav- 
ing Versailles  t.  1.  where  road  runs  into  that  you  are  on  without  crossing  it.  At  Perrysbuig 
walk  I  m.  up  steep  hill  and  ride  \  m.  down  other  side ;  then  t.  1.  and  after  \  m.  more  1. 1.  again 
into  Dayton ;  \  m.  from  Dayton  t.  r. ;  then  ^  m.  1. 1.  Take  1.  f.  at  MarkharaV  T.  r.  at  saw- 
mill and  L  1.  at  next  comer.  Keep  same  road  to  I.eon.  From  Conewango  (or  Rutledge)  t.  r., 
and  next  t.  r.  and  follow  same  road  to  Randolph."  Penysburg  is  38  ro.  from  Buffalo,  and  Day- 
ton 4  m.  beyond.  The  whole  route  is  called  good  or  excellent,  with  gravel  surface,  and  the  lat- 
ter half  is  hilly.  Hilly  also  is  the  good  gravel  road  leading  s.  e.  from  Dayton  to  Little  Valley, 
19  m. ;  '*  1 1.  I  m.  from  start ;  also  i^  m.  from  E.  Leon ;  walk  hill  beyond  Wesley  and  also  be- 
yoivl  New  Albion."  Cattaraugus,  5^  m.  from  Wesley,  may  be  reached  by  a  fair  gravel  road. 
Dunkirk  (see  p.  306)  may  be  reached  by  going  36  m.  w.  from  Dayton,  thus  :  '*  At  ^  m.  out,  t.  r. ; 
and  \  m.  beyond  1. 1.  At  Markham's  take  r.  f.  for  \  m.,  then  r.  f.  again  3  m.,  then  t.  1.  30  rods, 
then  t.  r.  on  outskirts  of  village.  On  reaching  Edward's  Corner  from  Cottage  t.  1.  for  |  m.,  then 
t.  r.  and  keep  straight  road  till  level  near  Sheridan  is  reached.  At  Sheridan  1.  r.  at  first  '  four 
comers,'  and  after  ^  m.  t.  ).  on  main  road.  After  crossing  railroad  take  ucond  t.  r.,  and  follow 
CO  Dunkirk.  By  keeping  same  road  straight  from  Sheridan,  Fredonia  is  reached  at  a  distance  of 
5  m.  No  village  at  Edward's  Corner.  In  going  from  Dayton  to  Dunkirk,  you  go  devm  i,3oo 
feeL  Worst  grade  is  between  Edward's  Corner  and  Smith's  Mills."  From  Edward's  Corner, 
one  may  go  10  m.  to  N.  Collins  thus :  "  T.  r.  and  keep  main  road  to  *  four  comers,*  where  there 
is  a  guide-board.  T.  1.  at  Perrysburg  and  keep  on  straight  to  end  of  road.  T.  r.  to  Versailles, 
there  cross  bridge  and  t.  1. ;  keep  straight  on  till  smooth  road  is  reached,  then  take  first  t  r.  to 
N.  Collins.  This  is  a  roundabout  way  to  Perrysburg,  but  is  much  more  level  than  the  direct 
road,  which  b  4  m.  in  length  and  hilly.  By  taking  it  in  reverse,  the  tourist  may  go  to  Dayton 
from  N.  Collins  by  an  easier  route,  though  longer  than  that  given  before.  Directions  for  the 
direct  road  are  as  follows  :  \  m.  out  of  Dayton  t.  r.,  ^  m.  further  t.  r.,  then  walk  \  m.  up  hill  and 
yod  have  a  steep  coast,  requiring  a  strong  brake,  to  Perrysburg.  This  is  a  good  gravel  road, 
and  should  be  taken  if  the  tourist  is  in  a  hurry." 

From  Dayton  to  Jamestown,  34  m.,  there  is  a  gravel  road,  good  or  excellent ;  "the  direc- 
tion is  nearly  s.  until  the  N.  Y.,  P.  &  O.  r.  r.  is  reached,  then  t.  r.  and  continue  on  main  road 
to  J."  From  J.  to  Randolph,  17  m.  e.,  "keep  the  side-path  to  Kennedy,  and  x  m.  beyond 
there  t.  r."  From  J.  to  Sinclairville,  15  m.,  "  at  Dextcrville  t.  1.  to  'four  corners,'  then  L  r. 
At  Gerry  t.  1.  and  keep  straight  on.  Road  very  pleasant  here."  To  reach  S.  from  Randolph 
leave  by  n.  road,  t.  1.  at  Randell  Bridge  Coraet,  going  w.,  keep  due  w.  Leave  Ellington  by 
n.  w.  road ;  t.  1.  at  school  house  and  keep  due  w.  There  is  also  another  good  road,  a  little 
longer  but  more  level,  from  Ellington  to  Sinclairville,  via  *  No  Good  Hollow '  road,  a  very  firm 
and  hard  road  in  dry  weather."  Dunkirk,  17  m.  beyond,  may  be  reached  thus  :  "  At  Sindair- 
ville  t.  L,  then  t.  r.  up  a  hill,  then  in  4  m.  Uke  r.  f.  At  Laona  take  1.  f.,  then  t.  1.  straight  on." 
From  Jamestown  to  Mayville,  34  m.,  there  is  a  straight  road  along  the  S.  side  of  Chautauqua 
Lake ;  good  dirt  surface  for  first  6  m.  to  Lakewood,  and  for  last  a  m.  from  Chautauqua ;  and 
fairiy  ridable  stony  road  for  the  16  m.  intermediate.  A  return  to  J.,  also  34  m. ,  may  be  made  by 
an  excellent  road  near  the  n.  side  of  the  lake,  through  Griffith  and  Chautauqua  points. 


XVII. 

KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CAVE.^ 

The  Blue-Grass  region  of  Kentucky,  so  celebrated  for  its  beauty,  never 
had  a  better  reason  for  feeling  proud  of  its.  good-looks  than  on  the  opening 
week  of  summer  in  1882,  when  I  for  the  first  time  cast  my  eyes  upon  the 
same.  May  had  been  almost  continuously  damp  and  rainy  until  its  very  dose, 
so  that  every  sort  of  vegetation  seemed  as  fresh  and  luxuriant  as  possible. 
The  foliage  of  the  trees — which  do  not  often  form  thickly-interladng  "  woods," 
but  stand  out  alone  in  their  individual  majesty,  as  if  some  magnificent  land- 
scape-gardener had  designedly  stationed  them  there  to  form  the  symmetrical 
landmarks  and  ornaments  of  an  immense  park — was  brilliantly  verdant ;  and 
the  tall  grass,  which  gives  its  peculiar  name  to  that  section  of  the  State,  shone, 
if  I  may  say  so,  with  the  bluest  green  imaginable.  Great  fields  of  grain,  also, 
waved  beneath  the  breeze,  in  graceful  emerald  undulations,  up  and  down  the 
soft  slopes  of  the  hills ;  and  whitewashed  fences  "  far  along  them  shone  "  in  the 
summer  sunlight.  Outside  the  towns  and  villages  the  houses  were  numerous 
enough  to  keep  the  tourist  assured  that  he  was  traveling  in  a  settled  country ; 
but  they  were  so  neat  and  trim,  and  withal  so  scattered,  as  readily  to  har- 
monize with  the  fancy  that  their  inhabitants  must  be  salaried  *'  keepers  of  the 
Blue-Grass  Park,"  instead  of  ordinary  farmers,  who  tilled  the  soil  simply  for 
the  sake  of  securing  such  profit  as  they  could  wrest  from  its  reluctant  grasp. 
The  time  for  sowing  had  gone  by,  and  the  time  for  reaping  had  not  come. 
There  was  no  bustle  or  activity  in  the  fields, — not  "  a  shadow  of  man*s  ravage  " 
anywhere.  Nature  was  doing  all  the  work ;  and  a  blessed  atmosphere  of 
peace,  prosperity,  and  contentment  seemed  to  pervade  the  landscape.  For 
purposes  of  spectacular  display  the  Blue-Grass  Region  was  at  its  best ;  and 
not  again  in  a  dozen  years  would  a  bic}xler  who  sought  to  explore  it  in  sum- 
mer-time be  likely  to  be  favored  with  as  cool  and  comfortable  temperature 
as  generally  favored  me  during  the  eight  days  while  I  pushed  my  wheel 
340  m.  among  the  Kentucky  hills. 

A  dutiful  desire  to  "  help  represent  the  East  "  in  the  third  annual  parade 
of  the  League  had  caused  me  to  sojourn  in  Chicago  for  the  last  three  days  of 
spring,  during  which  I  made  trial  of  its  streets  and  park-roads  to  the  extent  of 
75m.;  and  then  I  took  train  for  Cincinnati,  in  company  with  the  club-men  of 
that  city  returning  from  the  parade,  in  which  their  new  uniforms  of  green  vel- 
veteen had  played  so  picturesque  a  part.  None  of  the  numerous  bicyclers 
from  various  localities  whom  I  talked  with  in  Chicago  had  planned  to  prolong 

'From  The  Wfutlman^  October,  1883,  pp.  30-37  (*'  The  Hills  of  Kentucky  "). 


KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CA  VE.         225 

their  vacations  so  as  to  inclade  a  little  touring  after  the  meet  was  over;  but 
the  representatives  of  Cincinnati  and  Louisville  all  agreed  in  assuring  me  that, 
if  I  were  individually  bent  on  taking  a  tour,  I  should  act  wisely  in  choosing 
Kentucky  for  the  ^cene  of  it.  Some  letters  which  a  Frankfort  rider  had  re- 
cently contributed  to  one  of  the  cycling  weeklies,  in  praise  ol  the  roads  of  that 
State,  had  first  awakened  my  interest  therein ;  and  on  finding  these  praises 
justified  by  the  verbal  reports  of  several  others,  whose  explorations,  though 
individually  short,  covered  in  the  aggregate  a  good  many  miles  of  road,  I  de- 
terroined  to  make  the  Mammoth  Cave  the  objective  point  of  my  spring  tour. 
The  alternative  plan  which  I  had  in  mind  when  I  went  to  Chicago  was  that 
of  riding  from  Detroit  to  Niagara  along  the  Canadian  side  of  Lake  Erie ;  and 
I  am  expecting  to  try  the  track  during  the  approaching  October  ('83),  now 
that  its  practicability  has  been  demonstrated  by  the  July  expedition  of  the 
Chicago  Bicycle  Club. 

It  was  9  o'clock  of  a  Thursday  forenoon,  the  first  forenoon  of  June,  when 

I  first  got  astride  my  bicycle,  at  the  head  of  the  so-called  Lexington  turnpike, 
in  the  outskirts  of  Covington,  about  2  m.  from  the  r.  r.  station  in  Cincinnati, 
whence  I  had  trundled  it  along  the  sidewalks  and  over  the  big  bridge.  After 
riding  I  m.  I  stopped  midway  on  a  long  hill,  which  would  have  been  ridable 
to  the  summit  except  for  the  recent  rain,  and  took  a  look  backward  at  the 
smoky  city  below  me.    Erlanger,  a  railroad  station  6  m.  on,  was  reached  at 

I I  o'clock ;  and  it  is  enshrined  in  my  memory  as  the  spot  where  a  German 
servant-girl,  observing  me  oiling  the  wheel,  came  out  to  inquire  if  I  would 
grind  a  pair  of  scissors  for  her  mistress.  For  2  m.  beyond  this  point,  or  to 
the  village  of  Florence,  the  mud  continued  to  give  occasional  trouble;  but 
dryness  thenceforth  prevailed,  and  the  road  averaged  better  as  to  both  smooth- 
ness and  hardness,  so  that  in  the  next  x}  h.  I  covered  the  9  m.,  ending  at  a 
wretched  little  inn  at  Walton,  where  I  stopped  for  lunch.  Beyond  was  Will- 
iamstown,  the  county-seat,  18  m.,  and  there  I  rested  for  the  night,  at  the  Camp- 
bell House,  whose  accommodations,  though  very  inferior,  were  said  to  be  by 
no  means  as  bad  as  those  offered  by  its  rival,  the  Sherman.  I  arrived  at  6^ 
o'clock,  having  been  7\  h.  in  doing  the  last  13  m.  from  Chittenden;  and  the 
cyclometer's  record  for  the  whole  distance  from  the  r.  r.  station  in  Cincinnati 
was  39  m.  '*  Pike  "  is  the  only  word  used  in  Kentucky  to  designate  a  mac- 
adamized highway  or  turnpike;  and  the  Lexington  pike, on  which  I  began  my 
ride  through  the  State,  I  should  have  found  to  be  a  very  good  one  had  not  some 
sections  of  it  been  spoiled  by  the  railroad  men.  These  people  agreed  that 
sach  parts  of  the  pike  as  were  needed  for  their  new  line  should  be  replaced: 
by  a  parallel  roadway,  just  as  solidly  and  smoothly  paved  as  the  original ;  but 
they  failed  to  keep  their  agreement,  and  the  parts  of  the  pike  that  had  been 
made  by  them  supplied  the  poorest  riding  of  the  day.  During  the  whole  of 
it  I  probably  found  not  a  single  m.  of  continuously  level  surface ;  but  none  of 
the  grades  were  too  steep  for  riding  when  well  paved.  The  most  striking 
sign  of  a  changed  civilization,  which  challenged  my  attention  as  soon  as  I  en- 

15 


226  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tered  the  State,  was  the  number  of  people  on  horseback,  going  about  then- 
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-sfeeker  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  agamst  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  Wiliiamstown 
assured  me  that,  as  the  next  25  m.  of  pike  southward  would  be  foond  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  \\  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,  6^  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  rain.  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  quarter  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  I.  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  ont  and  I  resumed  my  riding. 

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  think  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  of  the  gloom  produced  by  the  threatening 
clouds,  which  soon  brought  a  gentle  shower  of  rain,  wherefrom  I  took  shelter 
in  a  roadside  shed.  A  little  later,  I  was  overtaken  by  a  still  heavier  shower, 
and  could  find  no  better  protection  than  a  big  tree.    The  rain  did  not  last 


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 
Perryville,  in  whose  wooden  walls  are  still  embedded  some  of  the  cannon-shot 
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  BuelFs  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  dear  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,  i  J  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. 


229 


lightened  a  little  by  encountering  some  goodish  bits  of  road ;  and»  spite  of  the 
darkness,  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 
I  had  turned  my  back  on  Perryville.  It  was  while  riding  slowly  up-hill  in  the 
dark,  over  some  rough  macadam,  that  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  415 
m.  together.  The  clock  struck  9  when  I  entered  the  Norris  House,  in  Leba- 
non, and  though  this  was  a  newer  and  larger  and  better-equipped  establish- 
ment than  any  of  the  other  hotels  as  yet  encountered  by  me  in  Kentucky,  I 
was  told  that  the  time  was  too  late  for  the  supplying  of  anything  whatever  to 
eat.  A  half-hour  later,  therefore,  having  made  sure  of  the  refreshment  sup- 
plied by  a  bath  and  a  dry  suit  of  clothes,  I  sallied  out  on  the  street  in  pursuit 
of  eatables.  The  most  nourishing  substances  I  could  secure  were  crackers 
and  cookies  and  ginger-snaps,  which  I  found  at  the  chief  "grocery  and  dry- 
goods  store ''  in  the  place,  and  which  I  managed  to  wash  down  by  deep  pota- 
tions of  soda-water.  Supplementing  this  luxurious  repast  by  a  dessert  of  con- 
fectionery, I  felt  sufficiently  invigorated  to  clean  off  from  my  wheel  all  traces 
of  its  21  m.s'  hard  traveling  from  Periyville;  though  I  cannot  pretend  that 
wheelmen  in  general  would  accept  as  a  satisfactory  sequel  to  so  hard  a  jaunt 
as  that,  so  slim  a  supper  as  that,  even  though  it  was  the  very  best  which 
money  could  buy  in  "the  court-house  town  of  Marion  county  **  at  9  o'clock  of 
a  Saturday  night  in  June. 

The  pike  came  to  its  end  at  Greensburg,  another  county  town,  25  m.  s.  w. ; 
and  from  that  point  the  tourist  must  resort  to  a  "  dirt  road,"  leading  in  a  sim- 
ilar direction  for  a  similar  distance,  in  order  to  reach  the  Mammoth  Cave. 
Putting  together  the  rather  meager  testimony  and  decidedly  contradictory  be- 
liefs of  various  i>eople  of  the  hotel  concerning  this  route,  I  decided  that  the 
first  half  would  supply  quite  as  toilsome  wheeling  as  the  20  m.  just  gone  over, 
and  that  the  last  half  would  be  quite  impassable  except  on  foot.  I,  there- 
fore, turned  my  course  directly  away  from  the  Cave,  and  rode  northward  9  m. 
to  Springfield,  thence  northwestward  19  m.  to  Bardstown  (both  of  these  being 
county  seats),  thence  southward  15  m.  to  New  Haven,  where  I  arrived  just 
before  8  o'clock,  having  been  a  little  less  than  11  h.  on  the  road.  I  was  now 
about  15  m.  w.  of  Lebanon,  whence  I  started  in  the  morning,  and  was  no 
nearer  the  Cave  than  then ;  for  my  day's  course  of  43  m.  may  be  roughly  de- 
scribed as  bounding  three  sides  of  a  square.  For  the  first  h.  out  of  Lebanon 
my  riding  was  continuous,  over  a  good  gravel  pike,  somewhat  hilly  and  wind- 
mg ;  and  then,  at  the  end  of  the  5 J  m.,  a  few  rods  of  loose  stone  had  to  be 
walked  over.  Another  h.  brought  me  to  the  court-house  in  Springfield,  about 
4  m.;  whence  I  rode  up  a  very  long  hill,  and  at  the  top  of  it  had  a  very  long 
talk  with  "an  Irish  gentleman  on  horseback,"  returning  from  church.  By  this 
time  the  heaviness  produced  by  yesterday's  rain  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|  m.  of  continuous  up-hill  work.  The  delay  of  ^L, 
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,  1 5  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  dirty ;  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-fiannel  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,  }  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  cotirse  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  rut)  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  ajr  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  railroad  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  I3  fare,  which  the  owner  of  the  stage-line  charged  for  the 
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. 


▼iUe,  and  other  intermediate  cities.  Of  the  transient  visitors  it  seems  not 
unlikely  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  general  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  regret  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  op-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. jo,  and  made 
our  first  stop,  for  lemonade,  at  a  wayside  inn,  6  m.  oat,  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,  11  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,  ^\  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<art  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  ver)'  fine,  and 
during  the  next  2  h.  I  had  my  swiftest  spin  of  the  day,  and  covered  almost  14 
ro.    After  a  brief  stop  for  water  and  oil,  I  rode  in  the  gathering  dusk  till  8 


KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CA  VE. 


233 


o'clock,  and  then  walked  for  i  h.  pretty  continuously,  including  a  2  m.  descent 
hi  to  Frankfort,  until  I  reached  my  journey's  end  at  Buhr's  Hotel,  52^  m.  from 
the  start.  The  whole  distance  is  composed  of  long  up-grades  or  down-grades, 
btit  almost  all  of  them  are  ridable,  and  there  are  few  steep  pitches.  Some  of 
the  Louisville  men  rode  to  Frankfort  and  back  on  a  single  day  of  the  previ* 
ous  winter,  though  they  finished  in  a  snow-storm,  quite  late  in  the  evening. 

Leaving  the  capital  city  of  Kentucky  at  8.30  on  Thursday  morning,  I 
reaiched  Georgetown,  17  m.,  just  at  noon,  and  tarried  for  i)  h.  at  the  same 
restaurant  which  I  had  patronized  the  previous  Friday.    I  was  now  again  in 
the  Blue-Grass  Region,  and  my  first  2  m.  from  the  State  House  had  led  up- 
hill to  a  fork  in  the  pike,  where  the  r.-hand  road  would  have  led  me  to  Ver- 
sa.illes  and  Lexington,  and  so  to  Paris, — a  somewhat  less  direct  route  to  that 
place,  of  perhaps  37  m.    The  distance  from  Georgetown  to  Paris  is  16  m., 
and  I  reached  there  at  a  quarter  before  5,  having  made  one  short  stop  at 
Ccntcrville,  7  m.  back.     My  route  from  Louisville  to  Paris  had  been  almost 
due  e. ;  but  I  now  tunied  to  the  n.  e.,  and  kept  in  that  direction  to  the  end,  at 
Maysville.     The  Pumell  House,  in  Millersburg,  where  I  stopped  for  the 
night  (which,  spite  of  its  age,  was  the  most  comfortable  country  inn  I  found 
in  the  State),  was  reached  at  6.20  o'clock,  and  was  8}  m.  from  my  stopping- 
place  in  Paris.    I  was  i  h.  10  min.  in  doing  the  distance,  which  comprised  the 
only  level  stretches  I  found  in  Kentucky.    Otherwise  the  roads  of  the  day 
were  continuously  hilly,  but  generally  smooth;  and  the  entire  distance  re- 
corded was  41 1  m.    The 'commencement  exercises  of  Georgetown  College 
seemed  to  have  attracted  thereto  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  region  roundabout, 
giving  the  place  an  unwonted  bustle  and  activity ;  but  I  was  told  that  the 
•*  graduating  class  "  consisted  of  only  two.    Millersburg  also  boasts  of  an  in- 
stitution of  similar  importance, — ^the  Kentucky  Wesleyan  University, — ^but  I 
neither  saw  nor  heard  anything  of  its  graduation  exercises. 

On  the  last  day  of  my  tour  I  made  the  earliest  start  of  the  entire  year, 
getting  into  the  saddle  at  5.10,  and  riding  rapidly  till  7,  when  I  reached  the 
Larue  House,  at  Blue  Lick  Spring,  13  m.,  and  stopped  1 J  h.  for  breakfast. 
Then  I  rode  up-grade  pretty  continuously  for  \  h.,  3J  m.,  and  rested  at  a  toll- 
gate  to  quench  my  thirst  and  transfer  my  baggage  from  the  handle-bar  to  my 
back«  This  change  was  needed  to  allow  my  coasting  down-hill  for  the  fol- 
lowing mile ;  and  I  had  also  indulged  in  considerable  coasting  before  break- 
fast, and  during  that  interval  had  emerged  once  more  from  the  well-defined 
limits  of  the  Blue-Grass  Region.  Being  very  hot  when  I  reached  the  Oak 
Hall  store,  9!  m.  from  Blue  Lick,  I  bathed  my  face  and  drank  profusely  be- 
fore mounting  again  at  10.20  o'clock.  I  reached  the  water-trough  and  toll- 
gate  at  North  Fork,  a  distance  of  7  m.  by  the  cyclometer,  26  min.  later,  and 
this  was  by  far  the  fastest  spin  of  the  day,  or  of  any  day  yet  known  to  my  ex- 
perience. I  was  going  down  grade  much  of  the  time,  and  I  ended  by  coasting 
at  speed  for  more  than  i  m.  along  an  open  winding  road,  whose  downward 
curves  could  be  seen  for  a  long  distance  ahead.    The  grade  was  generally 


234  ^^^  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  pai'ts  were  kept  in  place  only  by  pressure.  I  therefore 
trudged  along  carefully  to  MaysviUe,  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  jS  m. ;  and,  except  for  the  accident,  which  upset 
my  plan  of  crossing  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  record 
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  o£Eer  a  few  words  of  caution.  Bicyclers  who«eek  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,  1 5  m.,  whence  the 
return  may  be  made  directly  w.,  through  Georgetown,  Frankfort,  and  Shelbys 
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  Brumiield,  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  xi  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. 

De6nite  confinaation  of  my  final  remark  is  afforded  in  the  following  valiiable  report,  pre- 
pared forme  by  John  M.  Verhoeff  (b.  Feb.  i8,  1866),  a  student  in  the  Louisville  High  School : 
*'  Indiana,  rather  than  Kentucky,  was  the  scene  of  my  longest  straightaway  ride  without  dis- 
mount, and  Oct  11,  '84,  was  the  di^te  of  it.  Starting  at  the  top  of  the  hill  in  New  Albany,  at 
9.18  A.  M.,  I  made  my  fint  stop  at  the  31st  m.-poet,  at  1.33  p.  m.,  a  diatanoe  of  33  m.  This  was 
on  the  okl  road  leading  n.  w.  to  Vincennes,  104  m.  from  the  ferry  at  New  Albany,  and  only  half 
the  distanoe  can  be  described  by  me.  Stones  have  been  put  on  only  as  far  as  PaoU,  43  m.  from 
the  £erry.  From  the  center  of  Louisville,  one  should  ride  either  through  High  av.,  Bank  st.  or 
Portland  av.  about  4^  m.  to  the  ferry  at  Portland,  and  then,  after  leaving  the  boat,  climb  the 
hill,  ride  one  square  1.,  and  follow  State  st.  stiai^^ht  into  the  PaoU  pike.  The  mile-posts  are 
wooden,  like  those  on  the  railroads,  and  the  first  of  them  (which  will  be  met  in  10  or  13  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 
2  m.  from  the  first  post  and  toll-gate,  so  that  the  whole  distance  from  the  river  is  41  m.  Green- 
ville hill  is  met  about  3  m.  along  the  pike,  and  is  the  longest  one  on  it,  beings  steady  rise  for 
i\[  m.,  virith  Mooresville  at  the  summit.  Then  follow  Galena,  at  the  7th  m.-post,  Greenville  at 
the  loth.  Palmyra,  at  the  17th,  Fredericksburg  between  the  23d  and  34th  (I  think),  and  Hardins- 
buig  between  the  27th  and  a&h.  At  the  31st  is  a  stony  hill,  not  easy  to  climb.  It  was  this  tliat 
forced  my  dismount  on  the  long  lide.  The  achod  house  of  Paoli  is  at  the  39th,  and  the  court 
house  i  m.  beyond.  The  dirt  road  continues  ridable  so  far  as  1  have  any  knowledge  of  it,  which 
is  to  Prospect  (10  m.),  and  there  are  good  bridges  over  the  creeks.  West  Baden  and  French 
Lidt  springs  lie  about  2  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  fol- 
krw  Main  St.,  the  second  one  from  the  river,  to  which  it  is  parallel ;  and  you  will  soon  come  in 
sight  of  a  large  hill,— one  of  the  Knobs.  About  4  m.  below  is  Corydon  hill,  which  is  considered 
the  hardest  climlnng  in  thb  region,  for,  though  not  steep,  it  has  a  steady  rise  for  nearly  two  m., 
ending  at  Edwardville,  whidi  is  just  over  the  tunnel  and  is  the  highest  spot  for  miles  around, 
Laneaville  is  6  m.  on,  and  the  pike  ends  at  Corydon,  ai  m.  from  the  start.  The  dirt  road  to 
Wyandot  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  t  m.  before  reaching  Corydon.  The  e.  and  n. 
route  from  New  Albany  is  throi^h  Spring  st.  to  the  Charlestown  pike.  After  7  m.  ride  you 
will  strike  the  pike  leading  from  Jeffersonville  to  C,  at  a  point  $1  m.  from  J.  About  i^  m. 
before  this,  you  will  cross  the  pike  leading  from  J.  to  Hamburg,  8  m.  All  these  are  rather 
rough.  A  dirt  road  continues  on  from  Hamburg  to  Salem,  said  to  be  about  35  m. ;  and  a  rood 
from  New  Albany  joins  this  at  Bennettville  (r.  r.),  where  a  sign  says  10  m.  to  New  Albany  and 
II  m.  to  Jeffersonville.  I  have  found  this  road  fairly  good  as  far  as  Providence,  or  rather  to  a 
point  ao  m.  from  Jeffersonville  and  within  i  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.  ixota  J.,  on  the  way  to  Hambuig,  a  pike  branches  off  r.  to  Charlestown,  14  m.,  but 
it  is  very  rough  in  places.  Another  road,  called  the  Utica  pike,  runs  along  the  river  7  ro.  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,  Barnett's  is  said  to  make  the  most  attractive  show- 
ing of  stalactites.     It  is  x  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  ^5  m.*«tone 


236         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

at  Gofihen  (18  m.  from  any  home).  Old  Hambui^  bam.  beyond,  on  a  dirt  road,  and  it  also  lies 
2  m.  from  Hall's  Landing,  on  the  river.  This  pike  is  good  and  smooth  as  (ar  as  Hanod's 
Creek,  at  7  nu-stone ;  and  becomes  even  smoother,  after  crossing  the  r.  r.  there.  The  hills  axe 
steep  but  all  ridable,  and  I  like  this  section  the  best  because  of  its  smoothness.  Near  the  9  m.- 
stone,  a  good  pike  branches  off  to  Brownsboro,  6  or  7  m. ;  and  this  route  is  preferable  to  tike 
direct  pike  which  runs  from  Louisville  (end  of  Story  a  v.)  to  Brownsboro  (r.  r.X  ai  m.  At  Worth- 
ington,  IX  m.  from  the  start,  after  good  riding  up  and  down  short  hills,  you  see  a  toll-gate  in  tbe 
middle,  where  the  road  forks.  The  1.  leads  to  Brownsboro,  over  smoother  surface  than  the  firs^ 
though  there  is  a  very  long  hill,  a  m.  before  reaching  that  village.  A  good  dirt  road  leads  tbeoce 
6  m.  to  Anita  Springs,  which  is  \  m.  from  Lagrange.  The  r.  fork  at  Worthington  leads  to 
Beard  station  on  r.  r.  8  m.,  and  thence  the  pike  continues  good  (though  hilly)  to  Ballardsvine,  10 
m.  e.,  and  fairly  good  also,  though  not  all  paved,  to  Smithfie^  (r.  r.),  a  m.,  whence  pikes  are  said 
to  extend  e.  to  New  Castle  and  then  n.  to  Campbellsburg.  A  good  inke  extends  from  Smithfidd 
to  Simpsonville  (13  m.  was  given  as  the  distance  by  a  resident,  though  my  cyclometer  recoded 
15^  m.),  which  is  23  m.  from  Louisville,  on  the  regular  Shelbyville  pike,  the  one  most  frequented 
by  bicyclers,  and  the  one  you  traversed  in  going  from  L.  to  Frankfort,  53  m.  The  best  way  Ip 
reach  it  from  the  center  of  the  dty  is  to  follow  Main  st  to  the  end  where  it  strikes  Story  av., 
and  follow  this  to  the  turn-table  of  the  street  cars,  where  the  pike  (Frankfort  av.)  begins.  An- 
other route  is  to  follow  Broadway,  turn  I.  at  Cave  Hill,  foUow  New  Broadway  to  a  dirt  road 
(connecting  the  Bardstown  and  Shelbyville  branch  pikes),  on  which  ride  1.  for  ^  m.  to  (he  Wock 
House  road,  on  which  ride  r.  (e.)  for  %\  m.  till  you  reach  the  pike  at  Oilman's  (a  r.  r.  station,  aho 
called  St.  Matthews  P.  0.)i  6  m.  out,  but  only  3  m.  from  the  dty  limits.  The  Eight  Mile  House 
is  at  the  second  tftll-gate,  3  m.  beyond ;  and  Middletown,  the  objective  point  of  many  dub  nma, 
is  13  m.  from  the  start.  At  Simpsonville,  33  m.  from  home,  a  pike  (good  though  hilly)  runs  s.  5 
m.  and  strikes  the  FinchviUe  pike  z  m.  from  the  r.  r.  at  F.  At  a  point  a  m.  w.  df  S.,  another 
pike  branches  s.  5  m.  to  F.  and  keeps  on  for  5  m.  more  (last  m.  is  dirt)  to  Elk  Creek,  where  h 
strikes  the  Taylorsville  pike,  6  m.  from  T.  Thus  the  distance  from  S.  to  T.  is  18  m.,  though  in 
a  direct  road  it  would  not  be  nearly  so  far.  A  rough,  stony  and  hilly  pike  runs  s.  from  S.  to  Mt 
Eden,  exactly  la  m.,  and  a  man  there  told  me  it  continued  to  Lawrenoeburg  (whence  the  nup 
shows  that  main  roads,  probably  pikes,  extend  n.  to  Frankfort,  s.  to  Harrodsburg  and  e.  to  Ver- 
sailles). A  dirt  road  goes  from  Mt.  Eden  to  Little,  8|  m.  (the  first  m.  or  two  so  cohered  with 
stones  as  to  be  unridable),  and  will  probably  be  some  day  completed  as  a  pike  to  Nonnandy. 

"  Louisville  ladies  often  drive  out  to  the  old  reservoir,  5  m.  n.  e. ;  and  Reservoir  av.,  the 
smooth  pike  leading  thither,  is  a  continuation  of  Southall  st.  The  s.  e.  pike  to  Bardstown  (40 
m.),  however,  ranks  next  in  wheelmen's  favor  to  the  e.  or  Shelbyville  pike ;  and  frequent  dob 
runs  are  had  to  the  half-way  point,  Mt.  Washington,  30  m.,  where  dinner  may  be  got  at  a  hotd. 
An  ascent  of  i  ra.  must  be  made  to  reach  this,  and  the  following  m.  is  down  grade.  This  Bards- 
town pike  begins  at  the  head  of  Baxter  av.,  and  some  of  the  first  post  oflfices  along  it  are  Doop's 
Point,  4}  m. ;  Fern  Creek,  7  m.  beyond,  and  Fairmount,  14^  m.  from  the  start.  At  the  17  m.- 
stone,  is  Hayes  Spring,  whose  water  is  always  cool  enough  to  be  refreshing,  though  ice  may  be 
procured,  if  wished  for,  at  the  adjoining  public  house.  At  Docq>'s  Point,  the  Taylorsville  pil» 
branches  off  1.  (n.  e.),  and  is  good  straight  along  for  30  m.  to  its  terminus  at  the  little  vilhqp 
called  Little  Mount,  which  is  6  m.  beyond  the  court-house  town  that  gives  the  pike  its  name.  I 
consider  the  best  stretch  on  this  pike  the  7  m.  from  Jeffersontown  (also  called  Bruneratown) 
to  Fisherville,  entrance  into  which  is  by  a  long  descent.  Tliis  is  15  m.  from  Taylorsville;  and 
at  the  first  toll-gate  just  beyond  the  creek  another  good  pike  branches  1.  to  FinchviUe,  about  9in. 
Both  roads  at  the  fork,  which  is  reached  in  about  5  m.,  lead  to  F.,  but  the  I.  road  is  i  no.  shorter, 
as  the  r.  road  strikes  the  Shelbyville  and  Taylorsville  pike,  about  i  ra.  from  F.,  and  you  most 
ride  n.  on  this  to  where  the  other  one  strikes.  The  fact  that  I  once  went  to  F.  and  part  ol  the 
way  back  without  dismount,  mostly  at  a  lo-m.  pace,  shows  the  goodness  of  the  road.  From 
Little  Mount  a  pike  runs  w.  through  Nonnandy  (r.  r.),  striking  the  Taylorsville  pike  somewhere 
near  Wilsonville,  about  8^  m.  It  seemed  rough  on  the  dark  night  when  I  tramped  it  with  ray 
bicycle,  but  might  perhaps  be  ridable  by  daylight.     From  N.  to  the  T.  pike  are  a  m.  of  good 


KENTUCKY  AND  ITS  MAMMOTH  CA  VE. 


237 


riding.  A  second  branch  1.  £rom  the  Bardstown  pike  is  the  Waterford,  8  m.  long  and  all  ridable. 
bat  having  too  many  rough  places  to  be  called  excellent.  It  begins  at  the  foot  of  Mt.  Washing- 
loo  hill,  about  18  m.  from  home.  In  the  only  trip  I  ever  took  from  Waterford  directly  to  Taylors- 
ville,  6  m.,  I  found  muddy  roads  and  two  or  three  creeks  to  be  crossed.  Indeed,  the  road  itself  is 
in  Phim  creek,  some  of  the  way ;  and  I  went  over  the  meadows  in  my  final  m.  to  T.  The  diird 
and  last  branch  I.  from  the  Bardstown  pike  is  the  one  to  Bloomfield  (r.  r.),  13  m.  It  turns  off  e. 
at  Steve  Lord's  house  (which  is  i^  m.  beyond  the  village  of  Smithville  and  15  m.  from  Bards- 
town) and  it  has  a  good  surface,  with  few  hills, — the  village  of  Fairfield  being  about  half-way. 
A  Bloomfield  bicycler  told  me  he  wheeled  thence  to  Louisville  (38  m.)  in  3  h.,  beating  the  train, 
whose  schedule  time  for  the  57  m.,  with  stops  at  every  station,  is  also  3  h.  I  was  told,  too,  that 
a  splendid  pike  extended  from  B.  to  Chaplin. 

'*  The  direct  pike  to  Newberg^  8  m.  s.  e.  from  Louisville,  starting  from  Barrett  av.,  is  hilly 
and  usually  rough.  A  better  route  to  the  same  place  b  the  Poplar  Level  pike,  which  starts  at 
Campbell  st.  The  pike  to  Shepherdsville  (r.  r.),  ao  m.,  runs  s.  from  Shelby  St.  (Preston  st.  joins 
this  at  the  first  toll-gate),  and  is  for  the  most  part  good  and  level.  S.  is  connected  with  Bards- 
town Junction  (3}  m.)  by  a  dirt  road  which,  when  I  went  over  it,  was  as  good  as  a  pike.  Salt 
river  must  be  crossed  at  S.;  but  there  is  not  much  difiiculty  about  this,  as  in  some  places  one  can 
ride  most  of  the  way  over,  if  careful  for  the  ridges.  Passage  may  be  made  also  on  the  trestle- 
work  of  the  r.  r.,  though  the  train-tiroes  are  uncertain.  The  Elizabethtown  pike  (s.  w.)  starts 
from  ETghteenth  st.  in  Louisville,  but  a  good  way  to  reach  it  is  to  follow  Seventh  st.  to  the 
Alms  House  (r.  r.),  5  m.  The  next  village  is  Pleasure  Ridge  Park  (r.  r.) ;  Valley  Station  (r.  r.)  is 
about  IS  m.  from  the  start;  and  Salt  river  is  exactly  21  m.  from  home,  and  exactly  \  m.  beyond 
the  18  m.-«tone.  The  last  2  m.  of  this  is  dirt  road,  where  sand  forces  considerable  walking,  as  you 
are  right  by  the  river  all  the  time.  A  baige  is  generally  here  in  summer,  to  ferry  people  across 
to  West  Point  (r.  r.);  but,  on  my  last  visit,  I  resorted  to  the  trestle-work.  Beyond  W.  P.  the 
pike  has  a  bad  name,  on  account  of  the  big  stones  embedded  in  its  surface,  but  I  had  no  trouble 
in  steering  between  them.  A  man  there  said  that  the  distance  from  the  river  to  Elizabethtown 
was  34  m.,  and  other  people  agreed  with  him ;  but  I  only  went  about  half-way,  for  the  snow  be- 
gan falling  at  Red  Hill  (33  m.  from  home),  and  so  I  pushed  along  a  dirt  road  on  the  r.  to  the 
station  i^  m.  and  took  the  train  back.  The  last  of  the  Louisville  pikes  is  the  Cane  Run  road, 
startii^  near  Eighteenth  st,  in  the  s.  w.  part  of  the  city,  and  extending  to  the  river,  at  the 
7  m.-sCO(ne,  where  a  ferry  makes  connection  with  Bridgeport,  Indiana. 

"  The  roads  which  I  have  thus  described  for  you  are  in  5  counties  of  Ind.  and  9  of  Ky.,  but 
I  have  never  ridden  a  bicycle  to  a  point  more  than  50  or  60  m.  from  home.  As  I  do  not  get  out 
of  adiool  until  1.30  p.  m.,  it  is  only  on  Saturdays  that  I  can  take  all-day  runs  of  from  50  to  80 
m.,  and  expkyre  new  roads  beyond  the, familiar  20-m.  radius  to  which  afternoon  riding  is  re- 
stricted. I  have  now  (Nov.  za,  '84)  covered  about  360  m.  of  pike  and  from  joo  to  200  m.  of  dirt 
road.  Since  Sept  a,  '83,  my  48-in.  Expert  has  carried  me  about  3,300  m.  I  have  a  McDonnell 
cyclometer  and  Duryea  saddle,  but  carry  no  bell.  In  meastuing  short  distances,  or  to  relieve 
the  lonesomeness  of  night  riding,  I  count  the  revolutions  of  the  wheel,  420  to  the  m.  I  rarely  dis- 
moont  for  a  skittish  horse,  even  in  regions  where  bicycles  are  seldom  seen  ;  for,  by  riding  slowly, 
and  talking  to  the  owner,  I  help  accustom  his  animal  to  the  machine.  My  height  is  5  ft.  4  in., 
in  my  shoes,  and  I  could  easily  ride  a  50-in.  wheel,  if  I  wished.  Aside  from  my  straightaway  of 
31  n.  on  the  Paoli  pike,  I  may  mention  that  I  once  rode  from  home  to  the  17  m.-8tone  on  the 
SbeJbyville  pike  and  back  again,  43  m.,  without  dismount  By  far  the  longest  stay  I  ever  made 
in  the  saddle,  however,  was  the  12  h.  ending  at  7.36  a.  m.  on  Aug.  8,  '84,  during  which  my 
cydometer  recorded  114^  m.  The  scene  of  this  was  Third  st.,  which  had  recently  been  paved 
with  Trinidad  asphalt,  for  a  distance  of  2  m. ,  laddng  an  eighth.  The  eariy  part  of  the  night  was 
dondy,  but  the  moon  shone  afterwards.  Mounting  at  7.31  p.  m.  of  Aug.  7, 1  took  a  header 
about  20  min.  later,  when  I  assume  I  had  ridden  about  3}  m.,  judging  from  the  relation  of  the 
pbce  where  I  fell  to  my  starting-point.  I  jumped  on  quickly  again,  without  looking  at  the  cy- 
clometer, and  continued  riding  without  another  dismount  or  stop  until  7.36  a.  m.  Hence,  I  don't 
know  the  exact  distance  of  this  longest  '  stay '  <^  mine,  but  it  certainly  exceeded  110  m." 


XVIII. 

ALONG  THE   POTOMAC* 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  October  23,  188 1,  that  I  reached  the  famous 
river  at  Williamsport,  though  I  took  train  from  New  York  just  a  week  befcve 
that,  and  stopped  in  Philadelphia  for  an  afternoon's  indulgence  in  an  exploia- 
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  21st  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  26I  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  dovm  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  B.  W,y  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  $1  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  Th*  Bieycling  Worlds  June  23,  July  14,  i88a,  pp.  403-404,  441-442. 


ALONG  THE  POTOMAC.  239 

Hagcrstown, — 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  }  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, 
either  in  respect  to  food  or  clean  table  service  or  neatly  dressed  table-com- 
panions. Seven  miles  from  Williamsport  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  60 
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  designatjed  point,  $4  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 
80  picturesque  a  fresco  of  it  as  to  cause  **  Captain  Costentenus,  the  tattooed 
Greek,"  to  turn  pale  with  envy. 

The  tow-path  was  unridable  that  morning  because  of  a  hard  rain  during 


240  TEiW  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  x  1.30  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  dl  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  hea¥y 
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.  12J  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  fiinty  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  ofl 
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  it  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  ia3o  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  traia  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.  241 

my  baggage  from  Baltimore.  But  the  room  in  the  chief  hotel  where  dinner 
was  served  me  was  so  intolerably  dirty  that  I  feared  the  bed-rooms  might  be 
as  bad  as  the  one  at  the  **  brick  house "  of  bitter  memory.  Leaning,  there- 
fore, that  '*  hotels  "  of  some  sort  existed  at  a  place  called  "  Point  of  Rocks,*' 
1 2  miles  further  down,  and  hoping  that  they  might  be  better  than  the  one  at 
Harper's  Ferry,  inasmuch  as  they  could  not  possibly  be  worse,  I  jogged  down 
there  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  the  tow-path  being  rocky  and  sandy  by 
tarns,  and  requiring  frequent  dismounts.  I  was  rewarded  by  finding  a  hotel 
less  vile  than  the  one  I  fled  from,  and  I  was  not  troubled  by  bugs.  During 
my  two  hours'  stay  at  Harper's  Ferry,  I  climbed  the  hill,  whence  one  may  enjoy 
a  magnificent  view  of  the  Shenandoah  and  Potomac  valleys,  which  come  to- 
gether at  that  point. 

My  fourth  and  final  day  on  the  tow-path  was  not  a  happy  one.  An  abun- 
dance of  stones,  both  loose  and  fixed,  spots  of  soft  sand,  ridges  of  hard  clay, 
paddles  of  mud,  numerous  "  waste-weirs  "  (three  of  which  had  to  be  waded 
through  on  account  of  the  entire  absence  of  planks,  and  from  the  plank  of  a 
fourth  one  of  which  I  let  my  wheel  slip  into  the  water,  soaking  my  roll  of 
clothes  on  the  handle-bar) —  all  these  things  enforced  slow  riding  and  frequent 
ctismounts.  Never  during  the  day  did  I  ride  i  m.  without  stop,  and  rarely 
\  m.  Soon  after  the  start,  I  sprained  my  ankle  on  a  stone,  and  for  4  or  5  h. 
each  one  of  my  innumerable  mounts  and  dismounts  was  attended  with  definite 
pain.  Towards  the  close  of  the  day  the  soreness,  which  at  noon  I  feared 
might  increase  to  the  point  of  disabling  me,  disappeared  entirely.  Leaving 
Point  of  Rocks  in  the  dusk  of  daybreak  at  6,  I  breakfasted  on  bread  and 
milk  1}  h.  later,  at  lock  27.  At  1.45  p.  m.,  I  stopped  at  lock  24,  which  was 
23  m.  from  the  start;  to  lunch  on  the  same  simple  fare.  Six  m.  on,  at  lock 
21,  near  the  Great  Falls,  the  time  being  4  o'clock,  I  left  the  tow-path  and  took 
the  Conduit  road  for  Washington.  Recent  rain  had  made  this  rather  heavy, 
and  at  5.45  o'clock,  when  I  definitely  stopped  riding,  after  narrowly  escaping 
several  falls  in  the  darkness,  I  had  covered  only  7  m.  more.  I  was  upwards 
of  z\  h.  in  plodding  over  the  next  9  m.  to  Georgetown  bridge,  though  the 
road  was  smoothly  macadamized,  and  by  daylight  would  have  supplied  excel- 
lent riding.  This  final  tramp  was  not  so  dismal,  however,  as  that  of  two 
nights  before,  which  ended  at  Cumberland;  for  lights  of  some  sort  were  gen- 
erally visible,  and  an  occasional  team  would  be  met  with  on  the  road.  As 
soon  as  I  struck  the  gas-lighted  asphalt,  I  was  not  long  in  whirling  myself  to 
Wormley's  Hotel,  where  a  rather  stupid  clerk  seemed  inclined  to  doubt  my 
ability  to  pay  for  any  accommodation,  even  after  I  had  made  myself  known 
as  the  owner  of  the  baggage  which  had  been  expressed  from  Baltimore.  I 
cut  the  discussion  short  by  planking  down  '*  ^  for  a  day's  board  in  advance," 
and  was  shown  to  a  very  plainly  furnished  bed-room.  My  curiosity  to  see 
with  my  own  eyes  what  sort  of  thing  "  a  first-class  Washington  hotel  "  might 
be  was  more  than  satisfied.  The  next  time  I  shall  at  least  know  which  one 
not  to  go  to.  My  cyclometer  marked  51  m.  that  day,  making  180  m.  for  the 
16 


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  yixrf- 
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  Hagen- 
town ;  and,  in  the  words  of  Eli  Mobley,  an  old  coach-maker  of  the  latter  place,  *'  it  nuide  the 
finest  road  in  America.  I  have  seen  the  mail  coaches  travel  from  Hagerstown  to  Frederick,  a6 
m. ,  in  2  h.  That  was  not  an  unusual  thing  either ;  and  there  were  through  freight  wagoos  from 
Baltimore  to  Wheeling  wUich  carried  ten  ton  and  made  nearly  as  good  time  as  the  coadbcs. 
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,**  which 
formed  an  illustrated  leading  article  in  Harper's  Mageuing  (Nov.  1879,  pp.  8oi-«i6),  and  which 
deserves  the  attentive  perusal  of  every  prospective  tourist  on  this  main  thoroug^ilaK  over  the 


ALONG  THE  POTOMAC.  243 

ASegfaanies.  "  The  nationa]  road  proper/*  hesays,  "  was  built  from  Cumberland  to  Wheeling, 
fay  the  United  States  government,  the  intention  being  to  establish  it  as  far  as  St.  Louis.  It  was 
exoenently  macadamized,  the  rivers  and  creeks  were  spanned  by  stone  bridges  ;  the  distances 
were  indexed  by  iron  mile-posts,  and  the  tolUiouses  supplied  with  strong  iron  gates.  Its  pro- 
iector  and  chief  supporter  was  Henry  Clay,  whose  services  in  its  behalf  are  commemorated  by  a 
monument  near  Wheeling.  From  Cumberland  to  Baltimore,  the  road,  or  a  large  part  of  it,  was 
bmh  by  certain  banks  of  Maryland,  which  were  rechartered  in  1816  on  condition  that  they 
diould  oomplete  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  ao  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 
Cnnberland,  the  road  partly  follows  the  route  of  General  Braddock,  who  has  left  an  interesting 
old  mile-stone  at  Frostburg.  The  old  iron  gates  have  been  despoiled,  but  the  uniform  toll- 
houses, the  splendid  bridges,  and  the  iron  distance-posts  show  how  ample  the  equipment  was. 
The  ooadies  ceased  running  in  1853,  when  the  railway  was  completed  to  Wheeling.  Four  years 
before  that,  a  local  paper  had  said :  '  The  passenger  travel  over  the  national  road  during  1S49 
was  immense,  and  the  agents'  repiorts  show  that  from  the  ist  to  the  aoth  of  March  the  number 
of  persons  oirried  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  wa^ns  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 
lage  town.  Some  of  the  passes  were  as  precipitous  as  any  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  the 
mountaiitt  were  as  wild.  West  of  Cumberiand  the  road  was  bordered  by  an  extraordinary  growth 
ol  pines,  the  branches  of  which  were  so  intermeshed  that  they  admitted  very  litde  daylight,  and 
from  its  prevailing  daiicness  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  doud  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  \rith  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  fertDe  and 
beautiful  a  reach  of  country  as  the  world  contains.  Beyond  Hagerstown  the  road  is  level  and 
oninteresting,  save  for  the  capacious  taverns,  mostly  in  disuse,  the  stables  and  smithies  whidi 
time  has  left  standii^.  One  of  the  old  forges  near  Fairview  was  notably  picturesque.  Late  in 
the  afternoon  we  reached  Gear  Spring,  an  old  fashioned  village  at  the  foot  of  another  range  of 
raoontainsw  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, 
singukuly  even  along  their  crests.  At  the  summit  of  Sidling  Hill  there  is  an  immense  prospect  of 
rii%es  beyond  ridges,  visible  along  their  whole  length,  which  look  like  the  vast  waves  of  a  petri- 
fied ocean.  Between  Hancodc  and  Cumberland  the  road  is  almost  deserted,  and  there  is  no 
tavern  in  trmr  40  m. 

The  writer  mentions  diat  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  ray  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  irfiose  money  helped  to  build  it.    John  Quincy  Adams,  President  of  the  United  States, 


244  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

broke  ground  for  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  Canal,  amid  imposing  cerenxNuals,  on  the  Foarth  of 
July,  182S ;  but  it  is  said  never  to  have  had  even  an  approximately  prosperous  year  (unless,  per- 
haps, 1875,  when  A.  P.  Gorman  was  its  president),  and  its  fortunes  have  now  readied  a  reiylow 
ebb.  Representing  an  expenditure  of  $17,000,000,  it  could  not  be  sold  for  a  tenth  port  of  its 
cost.  Only  about  300  boats  now  operate  upon  it,  and  though  repairs  will  probably  be  kept  op 
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  ofiEer  the  only  chance  by  which  its  owners  may  get  bock 
any  share  of  their  money.  A  few  individual  citizens  of  Cumbeiiand  and  other  American  towns 
hold  stock  in  it,  but  the  chief  parties-in4nterest  are  the  State  of  Maryland,  and  the  onlot^T 
British  bondholders,  in  whose  behalf  Daniel  H.  Stewart,  of  England,  now  has  a  suit  pendo^ 
(June  15,  '85)  in  the  United  States  Circuit  Court,  at  Baltimore,  praying  for  the  appointment  o( 
a  receiver.  The  present  president  of  the  company  is  Col.  L.  V.  Baughman ;  and  amoqg  (be 
other  well-known  men  who  have  officially  served  it  in  past  years  are  ex-Gov.  P.  F.  Thomas, 
Judge  J.  H.  Gordon,  and  Gen.  J.  C  Qarke,  now  at  the  head  of  the  Illinob  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  sane 
path.  May  30,  '84,  and  suggested  the  preparation  of  a  record  of  his  journey  (printed  in  the 
Wheels  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.  £.  Miller,  of  Shepherdstown,  riding  a  484n. 
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  i a.  A  week  later,  we  proceeded  down  the  path 
to  Williamsport,  and  then  went  to  Hagerstown,  an  afternoon  ride  of  33  m.  (93).  On  aoth, 
through  Funkstown,  and  Martinsburg  to  Darksville,  by  good  pike,  3a  m.  (135);  onaist,  toa 
country  house  in  Clarke  county,  46  m.  (171),  good  pike  all  the  way ;  on  33d,  through  Winchester 
and  Strasbuig  to  Woodstock,  46  m.  (217) ;  on  a4th,  through  New  Market  to  Luray,  34  m.  (25 1\ 
finishing  just  in  time  to  escape  a  severe  storm ;  on  a6th,  retraced  our  course  to  Woodstock, 
34  m.  (385) ;  on  37th,  through  Winchester  and  Berryville  to  Hamilton,  60  m.  (345),  crossing  Uk 
mountains  by  Snicker's  gap,  where  sand  and  loose  stones  made  the  course  very  rough,  though 
good  dirt  road  was  found  for  final  10  m.  ;  on  a8th,  continued  along  a  fair  dirt  road  to  White's 
ferry  on  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  Augiut  1,  which  was  the  wannest  day 
of  all,  we  rode  36  m.  to  Baltimore,  by  the  old  post  road  through  Bladensbuis*  which  offered* 
terrible  depth  of  sand ;  and  we  added  only  5  m.  to  our  record  (445)  during  our  four  days' 
stay  in  the  city.  On  the  6th,  through  Bel  Air  and  Havre  de  Grace  to  Elkton,  54  m.  (499),  findii^ 
the  worst  roads,  with  much  sand,  near  the  finish ;  on  7lh  through  Wilmington  and  diester,  to 
Philadelphia,  57  m.  (556), — crossing  the  ship  canal  to  League  Island,  4  m.  beyond  Chester,  and 
having  a  splendid  road  thence  to  the  finish.  After  our  five  days'  visit  in  Philadelphia,  the 
record  was  as  follows  :  13th,  by  Lancaster  pike  to  Greenland,  68  m.  (634),  all  but  the  first  16  m. 
being  very  rough,— the  dirt  road  by  way  of  West  Chester  would  have  been  better ;  14th,  througfa 
Lancaster  and  Marietta  to  Steelton,  35  m.  (659),  fair  dirt  roads ;  15th,  through  Harrisbuzg  and 
Clarke's  Ferry  to  Mexico,  50  m.  (709),  by  poor  and  hilly  roads,  with  a  delay  of  several  hours  for 
rain ;  i6th,  through  Mifflin  and  Lewiston  to  McVeightown,  37  m.  (736),  in  qnte  of  deep  mud,  and 
13  m.  of  the  roughest  road  I  ever  crawled  over  with  a  bicycle  (tow-path  through  the '  Lewistoa 
narrows ') ;  17th,  to  Coffee  Run,  40  m.  (776),  by  stony  and  sandy  road  to  Huntington,  and  thence 
by  tow-path,  which  was  better  ;  i8th,  to  Trough  Creek  Valley,  6  m.,  and  19th  across  some  stooy 
mountains,  9  m.  beyond  (791) ;  aoth,  through  Everett  to  Bedford  Springs,  38  m.  (819),  rough  and 
sandy  except  for  the  last  8  m. ;  33d,  to  Somerset,  in  the  Alleghanies,  40  m.  (859),  a  rough  dimb, 
much  sand,  with  some  good  bits  of  riding ;  33d,  after  a  hard  forenoon's  rain,  went  to  Meyer»- 
dale,  19  m.  (878)  by  sandy  and  muddy  roads ;  34th,  across  Little  Savage  mountain,  by  rough 
roads,  badly  washed  by  the  rain,  to  Cumberland,  my  starting  point,  38  m.  (906).  The  fine 
weather  of  the  ssth,  tempted  me  to  wheel  down  the  tow-path  to  Dam  No.  6.,  and  back,  loa  m., 
and  my  report  of  the  ride  appeared  in  Haslett's  '  Summary '  {Outings  Feb.,  1884,  p.  373)." 


ALONG  THE  POTOMAC.  245 

A  ride  of  350  m.,  much  of  it  on  the  national  pike,  between  Springfield,  O.,  and  Hagerstown, 
M«L,  was  taken  May  »-i6,  '84,  by  E.  G.  Barnett  (54  in.),  C.  E.  Maxwell  (52  in.)  and  Stanley 
Myers  (5a  in.),  of  the  Champion  City  B.  C,  of  which  the  first-named  is  secretary.  He  prepared 
a  brief  summary  for  me,  three  months  later ;  and  a  longer  report  (written  by  one  of  the  others) 
was  printed  in  Cycling,  April,  '85.  I  combine  both  these  in  the  following  story  :  '*  Starting 
from  the  dub  room  on  Market  st.  at  7  a.  h.,  we  reached  Jeffersonville,  35  m.,  at  <x,  and,  after 
dinner,  pushed  on  to  Columbus,  so  ra.,  where  \  h.  was  spent  at  the  club ;  thence  to  Reynolds- 
burg,  II  m.,  for  the  night, — riding  time,  8  h.,  or  an  average  speed  of  7  m.  per  h.  Surface  of 
first  hadf ,  very  smooth ;  of  last,  cut  up  with  ruts.  Considerable  mud,  on  account  of  three  or 
four  days'  rain.  Indeed,  a  slight  rain  fell  when  we  started,  but  gave  no  trouble  after  10  o'clock. 
Next  day,  the  9th,  we  were  9  h.  in  the  saddle,  and  covered  64  m.,  ending  at  New  Concord, — 
dinner  having  been  taken  at  Brownsville,  a8  m.  from  the  start,  and  supper  at  Norwich,  3  m. 
from  the  finish.  We  halted  |  h.  at  Zanesville,  that  afternoon,  and  we  found  the  roads  grew 
better  as  we  advanced  e.  The  third  day  was  even  more  enjoyable,  though  the  riding  was  contin- 
uously iq>  and  down  hill  tmtil  we  were  within  10  m.  of  the  Ohio  river.  We  had  a  coast  of  i  i  m. 
at  6  p.  M.,  and,  after  supper  at  St.  Clairsville,  rode  x  1  m.  ini  h.  to  Wheeling,  W.  Va., — shaving  made 
60  m.  in  9  h.  of  riding,  since  the  start  at  6.30  a.  m.  This  last  stretch  was  almost  perfectly  level, 
and  the  whole  road  of  the  day  was  very  good,  except  a  horrible  8  m.  stretch  between  Cambridge 
and  Washington,  O.  Having  thus  done  180  m.  in  the  three  days,  we  rested  over  Sunday  at 
Wheeling,  and  on  Monday  rode  only  5)  h.,  ending  at  Washington,  Pa.  (3a  m.),  early  in  the  after- 
noon,— the  roads  being  very  good  in  spite  of  the  numerous  hills.  On  the  13th,  starting  at  7  a.  m., 
we  took  dinner  at  Baraesville,  as  m.  ;  passed  through  Uniontown,  ix  m.,  at  3  p.  m.,  and  finally 
arrived  at  Summit  (5  m.,  of  which  the  last  3  had  to  be  walked),  in  the  midst  of  a  thunder  storm, 
|ttst  12  h.  from  the  start.  This  is  the  highest  point  in  the  national  road,  being  3,400  ft.  above 
•ea-Ievel ;  and  our  climb  up  the  Alleghanies  was  a  rough  one.  The  next  morning,  we  started 
down  a  hill  i  m.  long,  full  of  stones,  rocks  and  holes ;  and  as  we  were  told  we  might  expect  the 
same  all  the  way  to  Cumberland,  we  struck  off  across  the  mountain  to  Falls  City,  the  nearest 
Station  on  B  &  O.  r.  r. ,  and  from  there  reached  C.  by  train  at  4  p.  m.  ,  with  a  record  for  our  wheels 
of  only  13  m.  On  the  15th,  between  $  a.  m.  and  4  p.  m.  (6|  h.  of  riding,  with  occasional  spurts 
at  a  rate  of  15  m.  i)er  h.)  we  rode  down  the  C.  &  O.  tow-path  to  Hancock,  60  m.  The  greater 
part  of  it  seemed  almost  as  smooth  as  a  racing  path.  The  mountains  on  the  extreme  r.,  and  the 
diffs  towering  above  the  canal  on  the  1.,  supplied  grand  scenery  for  the  entire  day.  That  was 
about  the  only  sustenance  we  found  indeed ;  for  thc*re  is  not  a  hotel  in  that  region.  So,  though 
very  hungry,  we  had  nothing  to  do  but  go  on.  Our  final  day's  ride  was  from  Hancock  to  Hagers- 
town, 26  m.  on  the  national  pike  (6.30  to  it  a.  m.,  3^  h.  of  riding),  the  first  15  m.  being  very 
stony  and  sandy  and  leading  over  a  mountain,  and  the  rest  very  good.  Indeed,  the  final  10  m. 
were  the  best  of  the  entire  trip ;  and  on  this  same  sand-papered  section  I  took  such  a  severe 
header,  that,  though  able  to  ride  to  Hagerstown,  we  there  abandoned  the  idea  of  wheeling  to 
Washington  and  went  by  train  instead.  Our  total  riding  time  in  the  8  days  was  53  h.,  and  total 
^stance  was  352  m." 

My  own  experience  shows  that  the  above  riders  made  a  mistake  in  not  continuing  along  the 
tow-path  below  Hancock  ;  though  the  magnificence  of  some  of  the  mountain  views  may  have 
helped  repay  them  for  the  rough  climbing  demanded  on  the  pike.  Their  wisdom  in  taking  the 
train  to  Comberiand,  on  the  other  hand,  seems  confirmed  by  this  report,  printed  in  the  Philadth 
pkia  Cycling-  Record^  by  W.  T.  Fleming,  of  that  city,  concerning  a  recent  tour  taken  by  him  in 
cooipaxiy  with  a  Mr.  Matheys :  "  Leaving  P.  July  i,  '85,  we  reached  Smithville,  O.,  on  the 
loth  (400  m.),  but  we  had  to  walk  50  out  of  the  63  m.  between  Ciunberland  and  Uniontown." 

"  Picturesque  B.  andO.,  Historical  and  Descriptive,"  by  J.  G.  Pangbom  (Chicago  :  Knight 
ft  Leonard,  1882,  pp.  152),  is  perhaps  the  most  artistic  and  expensive  book  ever  issued  to  adver- 
tise a  railway.  Its  pictures  make  it  of  interest  to  any  prospective  traveler  along  the  Potomac. 
*'  The  single  fact  that  so  eminent  a  painter  as  Thomas  Moran  has  furnished  upwards  of  70  en^- 
tirely  new  drawings  for  it,  made  directly  from  nature,  is  enough  of  itself  to  establish  its  surpass- 
ingly b^  artistic  character."    It  contains  an  index  but  no  advertisements. 


XIX. 
WINTER  WHEELING.* 

Only  in  spring  the  treacherous  fruit  is  green ; 

Only  in  winter  on  our  heads  the  icicle 
Drops,  when  quick  thaws  have  warmed  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  tiro 
or  three  years  ago  by  the  polychromatic  Ptuk^  I  bravely  began  my  first  ei- 
periment  at  winter  touring  on  the  21st  of  November,  1882.  It  proved  an 
entirely  successful  experiment,  for,  in  the  course  of  four  dajrs,  I  had  pushtd 
myself  pleasantly  across  1 50  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  m)rself  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 
tuni  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  ro.,  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 J  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  The  IVheelmoHt  May,  1883,  PP-  "4-1 19. 


WINTER  WHEELING.  247 

on  my  tour  I  covered  the  entire  9  m.  in  1}  h.,  reaching  Pelham  bridge  at  9 
o'clock.  Fifteen  minutes  before  this,  when  I  was  ij  m.  from  the  bridge,  I 
w^as  brought  to  my  first  stop,  by  making  wrong  choice  of  a  path  around  a 
ditch,  when  a  right  choice  would  easily  have  led  me  around  it;  so  that, 
practically,  I  did  the  whole  distance  without  dismount.  I  certainly  could  n*t 
have  done  it  thus  without  the  previous  exploration,  which  enabled  me  to 
properly  pick  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  hand,  it  stiffened  up  many  soft  and  sandy  spots 
which  in  summer-time  would  almost  inevitably  have  commanded  a  halt. 
Considering  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  I  regard  this  first  hour's  stay 
in  the  saddle  as  among  the  most  creditable  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  the  traveler  may  refresh  himself,  though  I  did  not 
patronize  it  upon  that  particular  morning ;  and  beyond  this  is  a  stretch  of  ^\ 
m.  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  tax-payers. 
I  have  since  been  told,  though,  that  there  is  a  chance  that  macadam  may  be 
applied  within  a  year  or  two.  [Applied  in  Aprih,  1884;  see  p.  Tt^\  The  road 
for  a  distance  of  3  m.  beyond  this  bad  spot  had  been  treated  to  a  fresh  coat 
of  mac:adam,  which  extended  i  m.  beyond  the  town-hall  of  New  Rochelle, 
where  I  stopped  at  10  o'clock.  Some  parts  of  this  3  m.  had  been  hammered 
into  smoothness,  and  all  of  it  was  ridable;  and  even  in  accomplishing  the  two 
previous  miles  I  took  no  long  walks,  though  the  stones  and  frozen  ruts  con- 
tinually threatened  a  dismount,  and  it  was  plain  that  a  very  little  moisture 
would  suffice  to  create  a  depth  of  mud  prohibitory  for  bicycling.  At  a  point 
just  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  to  climb. 
My  stop  was  caused  on  the  smooth  dirt  sidewalk,  just  below  the  village  of 
Mamaroneck,  by  the  uneasiness  of  a  milkman's  horse,  who  whisked  one  or 
two  empty  cans  out  upon  the  ground,  in  suddenly  whirling  about,  but  was 
quickly  caught  and  quieted.  I  was  riding  very  slowly  when  the  beast  pricked 
up  his  ears,  and  I  gave  a  warning  cry  to  his  owner,  who  stood  behind  the 
wagon,  but  who  failed  to  comprehend  me  in  season  to  seize  him  by  the  head, 
as  he  should  have  done.  At  the  church  corner  in  Rye  Neck,  3^  m.  beyond, 
I  was  stopped  again,  by  making  a  wrong  choice  of  path,  on  a  smooth  road, 
the  time  being  11  o'clock.  So  far  as  natural  obstacles  were  concerned,  how- 
ever, I  might  well  have  gone  without  dismount  from  New  Rochelle  to  the 
hill  at  Rye,  where  the  flagpole  stands, — about  7 J  m.  Port  Chester,  2  m.  fur- 
ther, was  reached  in  just  4  h.  from  the  start  at  Harlem  Bridge,  23  m.  away. 


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  10  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,  Und  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  froV  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  L,  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  Fairfield,  however,  where  I  should  have 
stopped  for  the  night  if  I  had  seen  any  hotel,  I  managed  to  go  astray,  and 
so  added  a  ddtour  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  i\y  to  J  the  true  distance,  fairly  outdid  itself  on  this 
occasion  by  registering  only  30  m.  I)  On  only  half-a-dozen  occasions  have  1 
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  1 


WINTER  WHEELING. 


249 


was  engaged  from  2  to  6  P.  M.,  of  November  lo,  and  from  8  A.  M.  to  5  P.  M.,  of  the 
nth,  in  covering  the  43  m.  from  Bridgeport  to  the  r.  r.  station,  near  Pelham 
bridge.  The  Bi,  World,  of  April  17,  1880,  printed  my  report  of  this  trip ; 
and  the  same  journal,  of  Nov.  I2,  i88o»  gave  an  account  of  James  Revell's 
ride,  from  New  York  to  Bostun,  showing  that  "  on  November  3d  he  rode  from 
59th  St.  to  Westport,  51-^  m.,  over  very  sandy  roads,  starting  at  7  A.  m.,**  and 
probably  finishing  about  nightfall.  He  reported  reaching  Stamford  at  2 
o'clock,  which  was  the  time  I  passed  through  there ;  and  though  he  started 
}  h.  earlier  than  I  did,  his  starting-point  was  4  m.  below  the  Harlem  boule- 
vard, where  I  started. 

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  to  the  flagpole  in  Stratford,  4^  m.,  but  it  was  almost  z  h. 
later  when  I  reached  the  green  in  Milford,  only  3^  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  five 
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.  I  was  i  h.  in 
getting  over  it;  and  I  presume  that  in  the  summer-time  nearly  the  whole 
distance  would  have  to  be  done  on  foot.  Summit  av.,  on  the  hill  which  over- 
looks New  Haven  from  the  s.,was  reached  in  3  h.  from  the  start,  the  distance 
being  15!  m.  There  I  tarried  long,  admiring  the  dear,  delightful  scenes  of 
the  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  the  19th  m.,  I  stabled  my 
steed  at  the  house  of  the  friend  with  whom,  by  previous  appointment,  I 
spent  the  afternoon  and  night.  I  may  say  here  that  the  "  shore  road  "  from 
West  Haven  to  Milford,  which  I  made  trial  of  in  1879,  was  so  sandy  and 
hilly  for  5  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  next  day,  November  23,  I  rode  43 J  m.  to  Hartford,  between  8.35 
A.  M.  and  5.25  p.  M.  My  course  was  along  Congress  av..  Church  St.,  and  the 
sidewalk  of  Whitney  av.  to  the  hill  at  Lake  Whitney,  3  m.  in  24  min. ;  thence, 
without  Stop  for  almost  4  m.,  to  the  6-m.  plank  beyond  Centerville,  at  9.35 
o'clock.  An  ideally  smooth  track  of  red  clay  extended  thence  on  a  level  to 
the  8-m.  plank,  followed  by  40  rods  or  so  of  black  sidewalk  to  the  foot  of 
Mount  Carmel,  and  then  another  stretch  of  clay,  along  which  I  rode  until  I 
passed  the  lo-m.  plank,  and  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  where  a  sandy  rut 
caused  the  third  dismount  of  the  day  at  10.20.    During  twenty  minutes'  halt 


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- 
robes  ;  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  oiT  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,  s\  ra.  Here  I  stopped  nearly  \  h.,  and  in  another  J  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  ofllice  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.  Th«  sun  shone  brightly,  and  again  I  rode  in  my  shirt- 
sleeves, with  a  stiif  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  Locks,  where  I  stopped 
f  h.  for  lunch,  and  then  gave  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  1.  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  15  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,  i88o,  Aug.  25  and 
Oct.  7,  1881.  (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  series  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  off  the  last  23  m.  needed  to 
complete  the  record  of  6,000,  I  had  best  make  a  prompt  beginning.  I  finished 
my  task  in  Springfield  at  10.30  o'clock,  and  then  sought  breakfast  with  an 
appetite  well  sharpened  by  a  four-hours*  struggle  through  the  blinding  snow. 
The  air  was  cold  enough  to  freeze  my  mustache  into  a  solid  lump,  and  hence 
gave  the  snow  no  chance  to  grow  damp  and  slippery.    Thanks  to  the  tight 


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  \\  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  x  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,  iSJ, 
35ii  3^1  31  ^"d  4^'  I  ^^^^  ^^<^^  25  "^*  on  ^^c  2<^  o^  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  ^<t  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  1}  h.  up  the  long  State^ 
St.  hill  and  across  the  wide  sand-plain  to  Indian  Orchard,  a  distance  of  8  m. 
I  jogged  on  i^  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  (4J  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  Bu  Worlds  May  15,  May  29, 
Jane  12,  1880  (pp.  219,  234,  256);  Aug.  26,  Oct.  7,  1881  (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,  an^  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  5 J  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  2\  h.    Below  here  I  had  always 


254 


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  1  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  m.  to 
I  in.,  Aug.  '85,  mailed  for  25 c  by  the  Milton  Bradley  Co.)  exhibits  all  the  roads  within  a  10  in. 
radius  of  Court  Square,  daaaified  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  ooonty 
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  t  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  whidi  are  printed  on 
the  third  page  of  cover,—*,  g.  *  E.  Longmeadow,  Shakers,  Longmcadow,  18  m.  A-a3-38-39- 
27-J.'  The  mention  of  approximate  mileage  of  each  drive  allows  a  selection  to  be  made  corre- 
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  is  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  every  wheelman  whom  a  perusal  of  my  tenth  chapter  tempu 
to  explore  "  the  environs  of  Springfield.'*  Mr.  Bradley  writes  to  me  thus :  "  This  unique 
nanner  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,  allows  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  e.  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  b  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  badi  into  its 
covers  is  very  difficult,  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  regioq  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  omission 
in  this  respect  will  be  remedied  if  a  new  edition  is  called  for  next  year." 


XX. 

IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.* 

"  To  curve  on  the  outer  edge  "  is  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  any  such  vain  longing,  and  I 
certainly  have  no  desire  in  these  later  days  to  undertake  any  difficult  or  showy 
feats  while  in  the  saddle ;  but  when  the  challenge  came  to  me,  that  I  attempt 
the  outer  curve  on  the  very  easternmost  edge  of  these  United  States,  —  that 
I  try  driving  my  bicycle  along  the  brink  of  the  historic  "  jumping-off  place  " 
of  our  national  domain,  without  letting  the  same  topple  over  into  the  dread- 
ful depths  beyond, — ^my  pride  was  so  strongly  appealed  to  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  that  bicycle  touring  was,' for  a 
man  of  my  quiet  tastes,  pleasantest  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  to  his  feet,"  to  do  exactly  as  he  pleases ;  to  fly 
swiftly  or  to  fly  slowly,  to  cover  many  miles  continuously  or  to  make  many 
stops  by  the  wayside,  just  as  his  own  untrammeled  fancy  may  dictate, — and 
this  freedom  is  of  course  impaired  by  the  presence  of  even  a  single  com- 
panion, since  his  whims  and  freaks  and  desires  cannot  be  presumed  to  be 
identical  with  one's  own  for  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  about  the  same  riding  capacity  as  myself — to  enjoy  wheeling 
the  same  number  of  miles  a  day  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  making  it  alone.  The  gain  of  his  companionship 
might  more  than  offset  the  loss  of  individual  freedom ;  but  at  best  there 
would  be  some  such  loss,  and,  however  agreeable  the  tour  might  be  as  a 
social  experience,  it  would  necessarily  fall  short  of  the  highest  ideal  of  bi- 
cycling. To  ride  faster  than  your  wont,  in  order  to  keep  up  with  the  other 
man ;  to  ride  slower  than  you  wish,  in  order  that  he  may  keep  up  with  you ; 
to  start  and  to  stop,  to  eat  and  to  sleep,  at  the  times  and  j>laces  which  suit 
his  impulse  or  convenience  rather  than  your  own — these  are  the  things  which 
spoil  the  supreme  sense  of  liberty  such  as  suffuses  the  soul  of  the  solitary 

'The  last  put  of  thit  is  from  Tfu  SprmgfUld  Wfutlmen^s  GautUf  July,  1885. 


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  always 
to  dislike  Harvard,  with  the  enthusiasm  proper  to  a  loyal  son  of  Yale,  but  he 
wanted  to  have  it  in  his  power  to  intelligently  defy  all  Harvard  men  who 
might  venture  to  say  that  his  prejudice  was  an  ignorant  one  I  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 !  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 
of  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.  257 

good  time  anyhow,"  spite  of  the  fogs  and  spite  of  their  failure  to  indulge  in 
many  miles  of  bicycling. 

The  tour  was  planned  and  carried  through  by  one  of  the  younger  proprietors 
of  the  Portland  Transcript^  whose  patriotic  desire  to  remove  the  prevalent  im- 
pression that  **•  there  are  no  good  roads  in  Maine  "  led  him  to  prepare  an 
article  for  the  Wheelman  (February,  1883),  "sketching  a  route  in  the  extreme 
eastern  part  of  the  Pine  Tree  State,  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?" 
asked  he.  "  Will  not  those  wheelmen  who  would  like  to  organize  a  summer 
party  to  open  up  this  region,  as  yet  unexplored  by  bicycles,  correspond  with 
me  and  agree  upon  a  date  and  other  details  .>  Come  East  I  good  friends ;  come 
East !  '*  The  responses  to  this  appeal  were  soon  numerous  enough  t.o  show 
that  a  party  could  be  formed ;  and  a  six  days*  route  was  therefore  planned 
for  it,  beginning  at  Eastport  on  Tuesday  morning,  June  19,  and  ending  at 
Machiasport  on  Sunday  evening.  Between  those  objective  points  and  Port- 
land the  party  were  to  be  carried  by  steamer,  so  that  the  entire  excursion  was 
to  occupy  exactly  a  week,  beginning  and  ending  on  a  Monday  evening.  A 
formal  circular  was  issued  on  the  20th  of  April,  announcing  these  facts, 
giving  full  details  of  each  day's  riding,  and  naming  ^20  and  ^25  as  the  possi- 
ble limits  of  expense ;  and,  at  the  conclusion  of  negotiations  with  the  steam- 
ship agents  and  local  hotel-keepers,  a  second  circular  definitely  informed 
each  participant  that  he  would  be  expected,  on  starting  from  Portland,  to  pay 
$22  to  the  treasurer  of  the  expedition,  which  sum  would  cover  all  expenses 
until  the  return  to  that  city,  a  week  later.  A  final  assessment  of  ^3  each, 
however,  had  to  be  made  to  satisfy  the  extra  costs  of  the  rains  and  fogs,  for 
these  compelled  the  whole  party  to  be  dragged  a  dozen  miles  by  horse-power 
on  the  first  day,  to  ride  twice  that  distance  in  a  steam-tug  on  the  second  day 
and  again  on  the  third,  and  to  solace  themselves  by  music  and  dancing  during 
the  intermediate  night 

There  were  thirty-six  men  in  the  cavalcade  which  astonished  the  natives 
of  Eastport,  that  cloudy  Tuesday  morning,  and  silently  sped  along  the  main 
street  and  up  the  hill  and  so  out  into  the  country,  beyond  the  gaze  of  the 
admiring  multitude  which  had  crowded  the  sidewalks  and  filled  the  windows 
and  doorways.  Three  only  were  from  Portland :  the  organizer  and  com- 
mander of  the  expedition,  the  treasurer,  and  the  inventor  of  many  ingenious 
devices  dear  to  bicyclers — who  now  appeared  in  the  role  of  an  amateur  pho- 
tographer. Maine,  however,  had  one  other  representative,  in  the  person  of  a 
student  from  the  State  Agricultural  College,  the  son  of  an  ex-Governor,  and 
the  youngest  member  of  the  party,  yet  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  tallest,  and 
one  of  our  most  persistent  and  reckless  riders.  New  Hampshire  sent  a  pair 
of  "American  Star'*  men  who  drove  their  peculiar  machines  (the  "Star'' 
has  its  little  wheel  in  front)  into  Portland,  a  distance  of  45  m.  from  home, 
over  a  rather  inferior  roadway,  in  less  than  7  h.  of  the  forenoon  of  the  start 
17 


258  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Nova  Scotia  also  had  two  representatives,  who  joined  the  party  at  Eastport  ; 
while  Wisconsin,  Connecticut,  New  York  and  Pennsylvania  each  had  one,— 
the  latter  being  a  Philadelphia  lawyer  and  the  heaviest  rider  of  all.  I  myself 
was  the  only  New  Yorker.  The  remaining  twenty-four  were  Massachusetts 
men,  residing  within  a  radius  of  40  m.  from  Boston,  and  a  haif-dozen  of  them 
residing  in  that  city.  Among  these  men  from  the  Hub  was  the  literary  edltor 
of  the  Wheelman^  a  graduate  the  previous  summer  from  an  Illinois  college, 
whose  report  in  that  magazine  (Jan.  and  Feb.,  1884,  pp.  243-254,  338-347) 
may  be  considered  the  "  official  history "  of  the  expedition ;  and  also  the 
special  artist — an  Englishman  of  twice  his  age — whose  spirited  sketches  help 
enliven  the  aforesaid  history.  The  artist  rode  in  a  carriage,  which  he  usually 
kept  in  the  wake  of  the  rear-guard;  for,  though  a  good  comrade  when  the  pro- 
cession.was  not  in  motion,  he  was  not  a  bicycler  except  in  sympathy.  The 
character  of  representative  Bostonian,  however,  should  probably  be  attributed 
to  the  President  of  the  Massachusetts  Bicycle  Club,  a  middle-aged  lawyer, 
who  took  to  the  wheel  quite  disconsolately  in  1880,  as  a  rather  doubtful  pro- 
tector against  slowly-declining  health,  "when  ph)rsicians  were  in  vain";  and 
who  distinguished  himself  on  the  28th  of  September,  1882,  by  riding  118 
m.,  between  4.52  A.  M.  and  10.30  P.  M., — a  period  whereof  12  h.  41  min.  were 
spent  in  the  saddle  and  the  other  5  h.  in  resting, — the  final  20  m.  being  ridden 
in  the  dark  and  10  of  them  in  a  rain-storm.  The  **  champion  "  roadster  of 
our  party,  however,  was  a  sturdily-built  Worcester  man,  only  a  little  past  his 
majority,  who  in  November,  18S2,  took  a  ride  of  179  m.,  beginning  and  ending 
at  South  Framingham  at  5  P.  M. ;  and  who  also  took  another  ride  straight 
across  the  country  from  Worcester  to  Boston  without  leaving  his  saddle, 
though  the  distance  considerably  exceeded  40  m.,  and  the  first  half  of  the 
course  was  by  no  means  a  level  or  smooth  one.  (See  p.  in.)  In  October, 
1883,  a  road-race  of  100  m.,  in  the  region  around  Boston,  was  won  by  him  in 
9I  h. ;  and  a  track-race  of  too  m.,  in  a  park  at  Washington,  in  less  than  7)  h. 
We  also  boasted  of  a  Methodist  clergyman  who  had  recently  ridden  50  m. 
in  5^  h.,  in  making  a  round  trip  bet\veen  his  home  and  Boston,  and  who  on  a 
previous  occasion  had  done  80  m.  in  a  day.  Our  party,  furthermore,  com- 
prised two  or  three  editors  or  newspaper-men,  a  physician,  a  mechanical 
engineer,  a  manufacturing  jeweler,  a  hotel-keeper,  a  shoemaker,  a  traveling 
agent  for  gravestones,  a  bank-teller,  a  private  secretary,  a  book-keeper  and 
tradesmen,  salesmen  and  clerks  of  various  sorts.  As  regards  age,  all  save 
three  had  passed  their  majority,  and  those  were  in  their  twentieth  year; 
fifteen  had  entered  their  third  decade,  and  the  average  of  the  entire 
party  exceeded  29  years.  Our  oldest  member,  who  was  in  his  42d  year,  was 
also  our  lightest  one,  weighing  but  115  lbs.,  while  our  heaviest  man  tipped 
the  scales  at  182  lbs.  A  dozen  of  the  party  were  married,  and  there  were 
eight  who  used  eye-glasses,  though  only  half  that  number  wore  their  specta- 
cles continuously  while  riding.  The  "average  diameter"  of  the  wheels  was 
53  in., — the   largest  actual  diameter  being  58  and  the  smallest  being  46- 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  259 

Just  half  the  party  rode  sizes  between  50  and  52  ;  there  was  only  a  single  48, 
and  only  a  pair  of  58's.  The  "  big  Injuns"  who  drove  the  latter  respectively 
represented  Milwaukee,  Wis.,  and  Windsor,  N.  S.  My  own  venerable  bicy- 
cle was  the  littlest  of  all ;  but  I  must  be  allowed  here  to  boast  in  its  behalf 
that  it  had  seen  far  more  service  than  any  of  the  awe-inspiring  giants  which 
towered  magnificent  inches  above  it,  and  had  probably  traversed  more  distinct 
miles  of  American  roadway  than  could  be  described  by  combining  the  road- 
records  of  the  whole  thirty-four  of  them  I 

The  matter  of  introductions  and  acquaintance-making  was  facilitated  by 
distributing  a  printed  list  of  the  names  and  residences  of  the  "  participants," 
who  were  otherwise  described  as  the  "  Portland  Bicycle  Club  and  Invited 
Guests  " ;  and  the  same  card  also  contained  an  outline-map  of  the  section  of 
country  to  be  traversed  and  a  brief  description  of  each  day's  route.  Most  of 
the  "  guests  "  had  gone  to  Portland  by  train  or  boat,  in  advance  of  June  18, 
in  accordance  with  the  wish  of  the  local  riders,  who  devoted  that  day  to 
showing  them  the  honors  of  their  city.  I  have  already  said  that  the  two  New 
Hampshire  men  rode  thither  on  their  wheels;  and  several  of  those  from 
Massachusetts  also  engaged  in  some  touring  on  the  way,  though  they 
finished  by  train,  as  the  roads  for  50  or  60  m.  southwestwardly  from  Portland 
are  too  soft  and  rough  for  pleasant  riding.  I  myself,  in  leaving  New  York, 
wheeled  up  the  e.  bank  of  the  river  as  far  as  Hudson  (taking  train  over  the 
bad  intermediate  stretch  from  Tarry  town  to  Fishkill ;  see  p.  195),  and,  sev- 
eral days  later,  on  the  i6th  and  I7tb,  from  Springfield  to  Boston  (see  p.  no). 
I  rode  upwards  of  58  m.  on  the  latter  day,  and  though  the  first-half  of  the 
course  was  rather  difficult,  I  felt  in  excellent  trim  next  morning  when  I  em- 
barked at  8  o'clock  on  the  International  Line  steamer,  where  I  found  five  other 
of  the  "  invited  guests  "  ready  to  sail  with  me  for  Portland.  We  reached  there 
at  4  p.  M.,  and  as  the  boat  was  to  make  a  two  hours*  delay,  some  of  us  strolled 
ashore,  to  inspect  the  city  a  little  and  introduce  ourselves  to  the  main  body 
of  the  excursionists.  These  straggled  down  to  the  dock  as  6  o'clock  ap- 
proached, with  bags  and  baggage  dangling  from  their  hands  or  handle-bars, 
and  duly  bestowed  their  wheels  and  persons  in  the  appointed  places  about 
the  boat.  No  vain  attempt  was  made  to  impress  the  'longshoremen  and 
wharf-hands  with  the  splendor  of  the  occasion,  by  "  riding  down  to  the 
steamer  in  a  body";  but  the  Portland  Bicycle  Club  kept  up  their  escort 
duties  till  the  last,  finishing  with  many  cheers  and  congratulatory  outcries  as 
the  boat  finally  moved  off,  with  three  of  their  number  and  thirty  of  their 
**  invited  guests  "  responding  gayly  from  the  upper  deck.  The  gayety  was 
not  very  long  continued,  however,  for  at  the  conclusion  of  a  very  lively  sup- 
per, some  of  the  bold  bicyclers  began  to  grow  seasick ;  and  those  who  con- 
gregated on  the  upper  deck,  to  smoke  and  chat,  could  not  help  having  their 
spirits  somewhat  dampened  by  the  overcast  sky,  which  plainly  threatened 
bad  weather  for  the  morrow.  Then,  too,  the  captain  appeared,  with  solemn 
face,  to  warn  us  that  we  had  Death  for  a  fellow-passenger, — a  lady  who  em- 


26o         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

barked  at  Portland  in  apparent  health  and  vigor  having  suddenly  expired 
when  she  reached  her  state-room.  We  were  quite  quiet  after  that,  and  socm 
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  o£ 
Maine,  and  lying  opposite  the  much  larger  island  of  Campobello,  which 
belongs  to  New  Brunswick.  When  we  disembarked  there,  at  a  little  after  3 
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  early  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  time  that  they  gratified  their  curiosity  concerning  them ;  and 
their  only  regret  seemed  to  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  s|>ectacle  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  "first  shot"  at  the  intelligent  visages  of  his  fellow-cyders.  His 
seemingly  undue  haste,  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  photographic  per- 
petuation 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  doubted  its 
identit}'),  and  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  was  a  little  "  corduroy  bridge,"  or  water- 
course rudely  made  of  logs,  the  sides  of  which  were  not  well  banked  with 
earth.  I  remember  that  .1  sat  well  back  and  took  a  tremendous  jolt  as  I 
bounded  across  it ;  so  I  was  not  surprised  to  soon  hear  the  whistle  again  call 
a  halt  and  the  word  pass  along  to  the  front :  "  Man  off ;  badly  hurt."  It 
proved  to  be  one  of  the  oldest  of  our  married  men,  and  an  experienced  and 
careful  rider,  who  had  been  fated  thus  to  take  the  first  flight  over  the  handle- 
bar and  plunge  his  head  against  the  "  sterile  and  unyielding  soil  of  Maine." 
His  nose  showed  the  worst  effects  of  the  shock,  for  it  bled  profusely  and  was 
pretty  thoroughly  "skinned";  but,  as  no  bones  were  broken,  he  decided  not 
to  abandon  the  tour,  though  for  the  rest  of  the  forenoon  he  was  obliged  to 
ride  with  a  handkerchief  about  his  face  as  a  bandage ;  and  I  believe  he  did 
not  shed  the  last  scraps  of  courtplaster  until  the  very  morning,  eight  days 
later,  when  he  wheeled  homeward  to  the  bosom  of  his  family.    This  initial 


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, 
bat  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  than  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  o&  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  \  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  sopie  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  dr}'ing  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  hastenecf  to  congratulate  me  on  my 
angelic  appearance  in  a  clean  suit  of  white,  and  then  hurried  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,  and 


IN  THE  DOWN'EAST  FOGS.  263 

thus  increased  my  confidence  in  the  superiority  of  this  particular  sort  of  fabric 
for  such  uses.  I  had  no  falls  during  those  dozen  miles ;  I  did  no  extensive 
walking  except  on  the  up-grades ;  and  I  stuck  to  my  saddle  on  all  the  down- 
ward slopes  but  two. 

So  long  as  one  manages  to  keep  in  motion,  and  so  long  as  there  is  a  hard 
bottom  beneath  the  surface  mud  and  the  puddles  of  water  which  he  plows 
through,  "  riding  in  the  rain  "  is  not  specially  difficult,  and  it  has,  like  night- 
riding,  a  sort  of  grim  fascination  of  its  own.  The  worst  part  of  it  is  the  need 
of  occasional  dismounts,  for,  when  breeches  and  saddle  are  both  wet  and 
when  soles  and  pedals  are  both  muddy,  there  is  considerable  trouble  about 
getting  smoothly  settled  into  one's  seat  again  and  resuming  the  proper  sort  of 
push  on  the  cranks.  Hill-climbing  of  course  becomes  much  harder,  as  the 
rubber  tire  partly  loses  its  grip ;  and  the  same  increase  of  slipperiness  also 
increases  the  danger  of  side-falls,  especially  on  curves  or  ruts.  The  direction 
and  force  of  the  wind,  which  is  always  an  important  matter  in  bicycling,  be- 
comes of  supreme  consequence  when  a  man  attempts  riding  in  a  storm  of  rain 
or  snow,  or  on  a  steep  upward  gi:ade ;  for,  if  it  be  strongly  adverse,  it  is  apt  to 
be  prohibitory.  Had  the  storm  been  at  my  face  instead  of  at  my  back,  on  the 
afternoon  in  question,  I  should  doubtless  have  been  4  h.  rather  than  2  in  doing 
the  12  m.  to  Calais  and  should  have  reached  there  in  decidedly  jaded  con- 
dition. As  a  matter  of  fact  the  ride  left  me  in  excellent  trim,  physically ;  and 
when  once  more  I  was  drily  clothed  and  in  my  right  mind  to  spend  the  even- 
ing at  letter-writing,  I  could  afford  to  laugh  at  the  "  freshness  **  of  those  of  my 
companions  who  had  started  off  for  a  week's  touring  amid  the  Down-East 
.  fogs  without  anticipating  the  possibility  of  getting  rained  on,  and  without 
profiting  by  the  convenience  of  the  promised  baggage-wagon  for  the  convey- 
ance of  extra  jackets  and  shoes  and  breeches. 

I  could  afford  to  laugh  still  more  heartily  when  the  Ca/ats  Advertiser  in- 
formed an  interested  public  that  **  the  gentleman  who  came  to  town  on  his  • 
bicycle,  through  rain  and  mud,  on  his  arrival  at  the  American  House,  was 
taken  with  severe  cramps  in  his  limbs  and  suffered  much  pain  for  a  while,  but 
he  has  got  over  it  and  is  doing  nicely.  The  rest  of  the  party  were  brought  up 
from  Robbinston  by  the  hotel  conveyances,  and  arrived  a  little  after  ten 
o'clock,  apparently  considerably  fagged  out."  It  appears  from  this  that  even 
on  the  remote  border-line  of  Maine,  "  at  the  head  of  navigation  on  the  St. 
Croix  river,"  there  may  be  found  newspaper-men  who  have  perfectly  caught 
the  trick  of  our  most  advanced  and  enterprising  metropolitan  journalists, — 
who  can,  having  conceived  a  theory  of  a  current  event  or  fact  (for  example, 
that  a  man  who  propels  a  bicycle  in  a  rainstorm  over  a  dozen  miles  of 
muddy  road  must  be  thereby  disabled  as  to  his  legs ;  or  that  a  party  who  have 
indulged  in  bicycling  for  a  few  hours,  even  under  quite  favorable  conditions, 
must  necessarily  "  appear  fagged  out "),  can  describe  that  event  or  fact,  from 
the  rich  imaginative  resources  of  his  own  inner  consciousness,  with  such  a 
wealth  of  circumstantial  details  as  to  make  the  description  seem  true  and 


264         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

authoritative — to  all  save  the  insignificant  few  who  know  it  is  a  lie  I  The 
editor  of  the  Advertiser  ought  not  to  hide  such  gifts  behind  the  lumber-mills 
of  Calais.  Let  him  come  down  here  to  New  York  City,  if  he  wishes  them 
to  be  appreciated  I  More  than  one  leading  journal  would  be  glad  to  give  him 
the  desk  where  its  *'  special  despatches  "  from  remote  capitals  are  regular]? 
written ;  and  during  the  great  strike  of  the  telegraphers  his  services  woold 
anywhere  have  commanded  the  highest  conceivable  price  I  I  have  very  little 
doubt  that  the  condition  of  my  legs  at  6.30  p.  M.  on  the  19th  of  June,  18S3, 
was  for  several  days  thereafter  the  leading  topic  of  conversation  throughout 
the  city  of  Calais ;  and  that  among  the  more  disputatious  and  argumentative 
classes  of  citizens,  it  formed  a  bone  of  contention  for  many  months  there- 
after. To  be  sure,  the  Adoertiser^s  hated  rival  quickly  contradicted  the  stor^r 
of  my  exhausted  condition,  and  went  rather  to  the  other  extreme  in  saying 
that  my  "  trip  through  the  rain,  though  not  a  pleasant,  was  an  easy  one ;  and 
the  weakest  wheelman  in  the  party  could  have  made  twice  the  distance  on 
muddier  roads.**  Nevertheless,  as  the  story  of  the  ''cramps*'  was  really 
"  put  in  print,"  those  intelligent  lumbermen  whose  reflections  upon  bicyding 
are  conceived  in  a  sceptical  and  hostile  spirit,  will  undoubtedly  insist,  to  the 
end  of  their  lives,  that  there  must  have  been  *'  something  in  it,"  even  though 
they  gradually  abandon  their  first  shrewd  I-told-you-so,  as  illustrated  by  the 
sad  case  of  "  that  New  York  feller,  who  tried  to  show  us  what  he  could  do, 
and  came  near  being  lamed  for  life.**  It  seems  probable  enough,  indeed, 
that  no  bicycler,  traveling  a  dozen  miles,  alone,  on  a  rainy  and  foggy  after- 
ternoon,  through  such  a  thinly-settled  country,  ever  before  had  so  good  a 
chance  to  "  show  off  "  in  the  sight  of  so  many  people.  A  watch  for  the  ex- 
pected cavalcade  had  apparently  been  kept  for  hours  from  the  front  windows 
of  every  house  on  the  road ;  and  when  I  told  the  people  (who  rushed  oat 
through  the  storm  to  look  at  me,  and  question  me  as  to  "  when  the  others 
•  were  coming  *')  that  there  were  no  "  others  coming  "  except  in  covered  car- 
riages,— that  I  myself  personally  comprised  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  the 
circus  to  be  exhibited  that  afternoon, — ^the  gaze  which  had  been  originally 
designed  for  distribution  among  three  dozen  riders  was  concentrated  upon 
the  single  one  with  such  intensity  that  it  cut  me  through  and  through  1  If 
only  my  unknown  calumniator  of  the  Advertiser  could  have  imagined  how 
this  prolonged  **  ovation  **  caused  my  heart  to  beat ;  how  this  consciousness 
of  being  eagerly  watched  from  many  windows  as  an  important  and  interest- 
ing personage  inflated  my  vanity  to  the  bursting  point ;  how  this  knowledge 
that  I  was  for  that  twelve  miles  "  the  whole  expedition,**  suffused  my  soul 
with  a  truly  Jack-Homer-esque  complacency, — ^he  would  not  have  resorted  to 
*'  cramps  **  as  an  explanation  of  my  theoretically  dangerous  phjrsical  condition ; 
he  would  have  laid  it  to  heart  disease  1 

The  route  planned  for  the  second  day  of  the  tour  led  in  the  forenoon 
from  Calais  to  Dennysville,  16  m.,  and  in  the  afternoon  to  Lubec,  a  similar 
distance  beyond.      Dennysville  was  described  as  "a  veritable  gem  of  a 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  265 

country  village,  whose  noble  elms  form  archways  over  the  smooth  streets, 
and  whose  large,  square  houses,  set  somewhat  back  from  the  road,  tell  of 
peace  and  plenty " ;  and  Lubec  as  "  picturesquely  situated  on  a  high  bluff, 
opposite  the  island  of  Campobello,  and  2  or  3  m.  s.  of  Eastport,  and  having 
the  preparation  of  herring  and  sardines  for  its  chief  industry."  The  steady 
downpour  of  rain  during  the  night,  however,  had  rendered  the  roads  im- 
practicable for  touring  in  any  direction  on  that  second  day ;  and  the  best  that 
coald  be  hoped  for  was  that  Wednesday's  route  might  be  comfortably  taken 
on  Thursday.  Meanwhile  the  party  chartered  a  steam-tug  and  made  an  ex- 
cursion  down  the  river,  through  dense  fogs  and  occasional  sharp  showers,  to 
Robbinston,  in  order  to  bring  thence  the  bicycles  and  two  or  three  of  the 
tourists  that  had  been  left  at  the  Brewer  House  during  the  night.  I  m3rself 
spent  the  day  agreeably  inside  the  hotel,  engaged  in  reading  and  writing, 
until,  at  5  o'clock,  the  clouds  gave  promise  of  a  brief  "  cessation  of  hostilities," 
and  I  made  sure  of  "  a  visit  to  New  Brunswick "  by  driving'  my  wheel  along 
the  wooden  sidewalks  and  across  the  little  bridge  into  the  village  of  St 
Stephens,  where  the  similar  sidewalks  admitted  of  considerable  additional 
riding.  "  Larrigan  Manufactory  "  (inscribed  over  a  doorway  in  letters  of  such 
offensive  size  that  not  even  a  flying  wheelman  could  pretend  to  ignore  the 
crying  appeal  which  they  made  to  him)  was  the  first  foreign  notion  that 
affronted  me;  and  I  at  once  sprang  from  the  saddle,  overwhelmed  with 
curiosity  to  discover  what  **  Larrigan"  might  be,  and  prepared,  if  necessary, 
to  assert  a  long  repressed  desire  to  eat  or  drink  my  fill  of  it.  Of  the  two,  I 
rather  a^umed  the  probability  of  its  being  something  to  drink ;  for  it  is  well 
understood  that  any  purveyor  of  potables  whose  bar  is  just  beyond  the  pro- 
hibitory influences  of  the  "  Maine  liquor  law "  has  an  excellent  chance  for 
"international"  patronage.  "'Larrigan  Manufactory,'"  I  meditated,  "is 
probably  the  New  Brunswickian's  humorous  equivalent  for  *  Sample  Room,* 
'Senate,'  'Club  House'  and  similar  familiar  euphemisms,  dear  to  the  heart 
of  the  American  '  bar-keep ' ; "  and  none  of  the  numerous  persons  whom  I 
have  since  privately  questioned  on  the  subject  have  succeeded  in  making  a 
more  accurate  guess.  "  Is  that  name  slang  ? "  asked  I  of  a  storekeeper, 
pointing  across  to  the  sign,  "or  is  it  a  word  in  general  use, — a  good,  dictionary 
word  ?  And  what  does  it  mean  ?  "  "  Ha  I  ha  I "  laughed  he ;  "  it 's  common 
enough,  and  I  s'pose  you'll  find  it  in  all  the  dictionaries.  Why,  man  I 
larrigans  is  boots,— coarse,  stout  boots  for  the  lumbermen  to  wade  in, — ^boots 
made  of  hide  with  the  hair  on.    That 's  what  larrigans  is  I " 

Elated  by  this  unexpected  addition  to  my  linguistic  knowledge,  I  took  a 
circuit  of  3  m.  on  the  St.  Stephen  sidewalks,  and  then  wheeled  back  to  the 
hotel  for  supper,  just  in  season  to  escape  wetting  by  the  shower  which  began 
at  7  o'clock  and  raged  till  after  midnight.  With  the  friendly  cooperation  of 
the  young  men  of  the  city,  who  shared  the  expense,  the  evening  was  enlivened 
by  an  entertainment,  whereof  the  Calais  Times  remarked :  "  The  wheelmen 
gave  a  ball,  Wednesday  night,  in  St.  Croix  Hall,  which  was  largely  attended 


266  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

by  the  leaders  of  society  in  Calais,  St.  Stephen  and  Milltown.  Excellent 
music  was  provided,  and  the  affair  was  brilliant  and  successful — the  floor 
being  crowded  with  dancers  until  2.30  a.  m.  Previous  to  the  dancing,  a  fine 
exhibition  of  bicycling  was  given  by  several  of  the  wheelmen,  some  of  whose 
fancy  feats  were  marvelous  and  received  great  applause."  Those  of  the  party 
who  attended,  either  as  participants  or  as  spectators,  gave  unanimous  tes- 
timony that  the  girls  were  pretty  and  well-dressed  and  that  the  fun  was  the 
finest  possible ;  and  they  unanimously  reprobated  the  churlishness  of  the  few 
who  preferred  to  "  stay  in  out  of  the  wet  *'  and  discuss  bicycling  exp>erienoes 
around  the  hotel  stove.  This  wretched  minority  in  turn  ultimately  exchanged 
a  few  mild  grumbles  with  one  another  because  the  treasurer  of  the  expedition 
assessed  them  a  dollar  apiece  for  the  sport  which  they  had  had  no  share  in: 
and  it  is,  indeed,  not  quite  easy  to  see  on  what  pretext  the  venerable  rule, 
"  Those  who  dance  must  pay  the  piper,**  was  upset.  Perhaps  it  was  the  fog  I 
The  fogs  and  mists  were  as  dense  as  ever  on  Thursday  morning;  and 
the  postponed  overland  tour  to  Lubec,  by  way  of  Dennysville,  was  now 
abandoned  altogether,  in  favor  of  the  plan  of  reaching  the  first-named  port 
by  steam-tug,  starting  at  10.30.  The  interval  was  improved  by  most  of  the 
men  in  paying  a  pilgrimage  to  St.  Stephen,  and  many  of  them  thus  enjoyed 
the  sensation  of  being  for  the  first  time  beyond  the  limits  of  their  native 
land, — veritable  tourists  in  a  foreign  dominion.  I,  too,  yielded  to  the  tempta- 
tion to  slide  across  the  bridge  again  and  assure  myself  that  the  *'  Larrigan 
Manufactory "  was  still  standing.  Then  for  a  while  I  tried  the  sidewalks  of 
Calais, — whose  shaded  main  street  would  have  allowed  us  to  enter  the  town 
in  fine  style  on  Tuesday  afternoon,  had  the  weather  been  pleasant, — and  at 
last  boarded  the  tug,  with  a  morning's  record  of  5  m.  Two  lumber-schooners 
had  to  be  towed  to  the  breakwater  before  our  tug  settled  down  to  the  sole 
business  of  carrying  us  to  Robbinston  (for  it  had  been  arranged  that  we 
should  stop  there  at  i  o'clock,  in  order  to  test  another  good  dinner  at  the 
Brewer  House),  and  whil©  the  towing  was  in  progress  the  more  agile  and  ad- 
venturous of  our  ball-room  cavaliers  climbed  high  up  on  the  schooners'  masts 
and  waved  their  final  adieux  to  some  of  their  last  night's  charmers,  whose 
responsive  handkerchiefs  could  be  seen  faintly  fluttering  through  the  fog, 
and  who  made  a  pantomime  of  flinging  themselves  from  the  dock  in  despair- 
ing pursuit  of  us,  when,  "  with  the  full  strength  of  the  company,"  we  chanted 
the  farewell  chorus : 

"  Good  bye,  ladies  I    Good  bye,  ladies  I    Good  bye,  ladies  I    We  *re  going  to  leave  you  now  I " 

Indistinct  glimpses  of  attractive  scenery  were  to  be  had  in  the  rare  and 
brief  intervals  when  there  was  a  partial  lifting  of  the  fog ;  but  this  seemed  in 
general  to  grow  denser  as  we  advanced,  and  by  the  time  the  dock  at  Robbins- 
ton was  reached,  it  had  assumed  the  character  of  a  heavy  mist  or  thin  rain. 
The  hotel  was  known  to  be  exactly  i  m.  away,  and  the  road  thither  a  good 
one ;  but  the  crowd  all  scrambled  ashore  and  started  off  on  foot,  as  if  they 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  267 

unanimously  assumed  the  existence  of  mud  prohibitory  for  bicycling.   I,  how- 
ever, saw  fit  to  disembark  my  wheel,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  that 
the  track  was  quite  dry  enough  for  riding.    So  I  soon  sped  past  the  straggling 
footmen  and  reached  the  hotel  from  the  s.  at  a  quarter  past  i  o'clock.    Ex- 
actly ten  minutes  afterwards  there  arrived  another  wheelman  from  the  north- 
ward,— ^the  first  of  the  three  bold  spirits  who,  just  before  the  tug  cast  off,  at 
a  quarter  of  ix  o'clock,  suddenly  decided  that  they  would  push  their  wheels 
from  Calais  to  Robbinston,  at  whatever  cost.    They  fodnd,  of  course,  that 
the  roads  were  in  much  worse  condition,  after  a  rain  of  two  days  than  I  had 
found  them  after  a  rain  of  3  or  4  h.;  and  during  the  first  half  of  the  journey 
their  progress  was  slow  and  difficult.     As  the  hotel  was  approached  the  riding 
became  fairly  good ;  and  I  have  just  reported  finding  it  so  for  i  m.  beyond 
the  hotel.    These  facts  were  considered  at  the  council  of  war  which  was  held 
after  dinner  to  act  upon  the  lugubrious  report  of  the  captain  of  the  tug,  which 
was  to  the  effect  that  the  wind  and  fog  and  rough  water  might  perhaps  pre- 
vent   his  reaching  Lubec  till  late  at  night ;  and  that,  as  a  majority  of  t^e 
thirty-six  passengers  would  be  forced  to  stay  on  the  deck,  both  they  and  their 
wheels  would  probably  get  a  thorough  drenching.    Our  knowledge  of  the 
road  to  Eastport,  which  we  had  traversed  two  days  before,  led  many  of  us  to 
believe  that  not  much  of  it  would  be  found  too  muddy  for  riding,  provided  the 
mist  did  not  change  again  into  rain ;  and  the  crisis  was  therefore  met  by  a  de- 
cision that  those  who  pleased  should  wheel  themselves  to  Eastport,  where 
they  could  rejoin  their  companions  on  the  tug  and  ride  across  the  bay  to 
Lubec;  or,  in  case  the  tug  should  be  delayed  or  wrecked,  could  proceed  thither 
by  the  r^ular  ferry-boat    Those  who  made  the  choice  of  a  land  trip  were  re- 
quested to  at  once  leave  the  dining-room  and  disembark  their  wheels  ;  and 
when  they  had  set  forth  on.  that  errand,  the  number  of  "tug-boat  tourists  " 
who  lagged  ingloriously  behind  was  just  sixteen.     Before  the  crisis  had  been 
discussed  at  all,  however,  the  two  "  Star  men  "  had  individually  decided  not 
to  indulge  in  any  further  "  marine  bicycling,"  and  had  quietly  taken  their 
wheels  from  the  boat  and  started  for  Eastport.     I  suspected  that  they  might 
be  the  pair  of  ghostly  shapes  which  I  saw  vanishing  into  the  fog  of  a  hill-top, 
when  I  emerged  from  the  hotel  enclosure,  at  2.30  P.  M.,  and  I  started  in  pur- 
suit.   A  man  whom  I  soon  met  assured  me  in  apparent  good-faith  that  the 
two  unknown  pioneers  rode  machines  exactly  like  my  own, — machines  which 
did  not  •*  have  the  little  wheel  in  front," — but  when  I  overhauled  them,  about 
2  m.  out,  I  found  that  he  had  lied.     Having  satisfied  my  curiosity  and  given 
word  that  the  majority  of  the  party  were  also  on  the  road,  I  halted  a  while  to  let 
the  same  overtake  me.    When  waiting  grew  monotonous  and  inaction  made 
me  chilly,  I  jogged  on  again,  until  at  the  top  of  a  long  hill,  4  m.  from  the  start, 
where  I  could  have  an  excellent  view  of  the  approaching  troop,  I  again  incor- 
porated myself  with  it,  at  about  4  o'clock.    I  had  been  forced  to  walk  up  two 
or  three  long  slopes  before  getting  to  this  point,  but  thenceforth  nearly  all  the 
track  was  ridable,  and  some  of  it  in  even  better  condition  than  before  the 


268  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

rain.  A  brisk  pace  was  maintained  thenceforth,  and  the  remaining  13  tn.  were 
completed  in  2\  h.  As  we  swept  down  the  hill  and  through  the  main  street 
to  the  docic  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  o< 
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  pleasantcst  oppor- 
tunities of  the  entire  tour.  Our  afternoon's  ride  through  the  fog  was  certainJy 
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  Wheelmarfs  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  one  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-liatured  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  bam,  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  Man  an,  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  DOWN-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  otders  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  was  due  to  a  variation  in  his  compass  caused  by  the  in- 
fluence of  our  bicyclic  steel  upon  the  magnetic  nee'dle.  If  this  were  really 
tme,  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  afifording  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  Wheelman)y  where  the  cavalcade  of 
June  22  decided  to  turn  about.  I  myself,  however,  went  ij  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  i^ 
m.,  as  progress  became  too  rough  for  comfort  soon  after  passing  the  church. 
Campobello  offered  for  our  inspection  several  bam-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  onJy 
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  DOWN-EAST  FOGS. 


271 


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  ( Wheelman's  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  pleasurers.    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  to  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  in 
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  x  h.,  and  left  the  air  very  hot  and  sultn'. 
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  enjojdng  an  afternoon's  ride  of  30 
m.  more,  and  I  finished  the  day's  trip  in  excellent  spii^its.  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  of 
amazement  and  delight  at  witnessing  my  success  in  riding  up  and  down  a  bill. 
I^ter  in  the  day  I  was  also  amazed  by  my  success  in  climbing  up  the  steepest 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  273 

of  the  approaches  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 
a  half-dozen  of  us  enjoyed  there,  behind  the  logging  dam.  As  the  Portland 
steamer,  on  which  out  return  passage  had  been  engaged,  was  to  start  from 
Kachiasport  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  photographer,  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  his 
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 
party  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, 
to  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 
exchange  of  my  customary  riding  boots  for  a  pair  of  loose  house-shoes^ 
which  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- 
tion fashion ;  but  in  the  effort  of  making  a  swift  rush  up  the  first  steep  slope 
of  a  certain  hill,  1  forgot  all  about  the  loose  shoes,  till  one  of  them  suddenly 
slipped  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  grazed  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  mishsq).  The  bicycle  keeled  over  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 
mounted  and  in  motion  before  any  one  else  had  observed  the  disaster.  This 
was  the  first  and  only  fall  that  my  wheel  had  during  the  trip ;  and  it  curiously 
illustrates  the  **  periodicity  "  of  accidents  that  the  only  other  fall  experienced 
by  me  in  the  course  of  400  m.  traversed  during  the  month,  in  four  different 
States,  was  caused  only  ten  days  before  by  a  sand-rut  which  I  heedlessly 
attempted  to  cross  in  the  dark,  and  which  likewise  pitched  me  forward  evenly 
apon  my  hands,  and  caused  my  face  to  touch  the  dust  without  solidly  striking 
it.  The  curiousness  of  the  case  consists  in  this :  that  in  all  my  experience  I 
never  have  had  any  .perfectly  square  "  headers  **  except  these  two  which 
came  so  near  together.  My  "  involuntary  dismounts  "  have  rarely  been  so 
18 


274  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

sudden  as  to  forbid  my  scrambling  of!  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  dbmount  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,  1x5  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  fijring  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  smalt 
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  we  would  stop  over  for  a  day  or  two 
and  help  "  open  the  season  **  of  his  as  yet  unpeopled  establishment ;  and  it 
may  be  added  that  several  of  the  lesser  hotels  previously  patronized  had  im- 
mortalized our  visit  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  regular  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  find  to  join  me  in  rebellion  against  him.  His 
decision  was,  after  a  brief  inspection  of  the  map,  that  we  must  attempt  what 
is  known  as  "  the  22-m.  drive  *•;  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  macadamized  track,  like  the  one  overlooking  the  Hudson  from  New 
York  to  Tarrytown.  So,  at  a  quarter  before  2  o'clock,  the  devoted  ten 
wheeled  out  from  the  seclusion  of  the  Grand  Central  Hotel,  and  started  south- 
wardy  with  gay  and  hopeful  hearts, — ^the  carriage  of  the  artist  bringing  up  the 
rear.  Six  hours  and  ten  minutes  later,  the  specified  circuit  of  22  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.  Yet  these  men  were  the  flite  of  the 
thirty-five,  so  far  as  touring  was  concerned,  for  a  similar  number  of  equally 
good  riders  could  not  have  been  selected  from  the  remaining  twenty-five,  nor 
a  similar  number  of  better  riders  from  among  ten  times  as  many  average  bi- 
cyclers. Not  one  of  them  was  weak  or  inexperienced  or  ill-mounted  on  the 
wheel ;  and  not  one  of  them  failed  to  get  tremendously  tired  before  half  the 
distance  was  gone  over.  It  was  by  all  odds  the  most  memorable  trip  of  the 
entire  tour.  Its  hardships  and  exasperations  made  it  in  many  respects  unique, 
for  probably  no  similar  set  of  tourists  ever  suffered  so  much  in  so  short  a 
time,  as  a  suitable  reward  for  their  foolishness.  A  graphic  picture  of  the 
character  of  the  roads,  and  of  the  afternoon's  sport,  may  be  vividly  presented 
to  the  minds  of  all  bicyclers  by  the  simple  record :  '*  Six  bent  handle-bars, 
out  of  a  possible  ten  ! " 

The  road,  though  rough  and  hilly,  was  fairly  ridable  at  the  start, 'for, 
when  a  stop  was  made  for  water,  at  the  end  of  i  h.,  4  m.  had  been  covered, 
and  one  intermediate  rest  had  been  indulged  in.  The  pace  seemed  to  me 
much  too  fast  for  comfort,  however,  and  I  gradually  dropped  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  approadi 
when  I  should  again  fall  behind,  because  of  the  probability  of  my  soon  tam- 
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  stifiif,  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  I  The  deeper 
our  groans  and  regrets  and  lamentations,  the  louder  and  more  triumphant 
could  be  my  cry  of  "  I  told  you  so  "  I 

The  store  at  Seal  Harbor,  8  m.  from  the  start,  was  the  scene  of  oar 
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  reasons  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  riders,  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  soon  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  as  gratefully  give  him  the  addi* 


IN  THE  DOWN-EAST  FOGS.  277 

tional  title  of  "  champion  handle-bar  straightener.*'  Before  this,  the  editor  of 
the  Wheelman  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  I  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  eastward  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  our  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  i  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  f  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  milea  away  in  the  sunlight,  was 
Tcry  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 
ail  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  aoxNnpany  J.  S.  Phillips's  story, 
"A-wheeling  in  Norambega,"  in  the  Jan.  and  Feb.  issues  of  the  IVMeelman,  2884)  the  most 
graphic  and  representative  ones  were  the  two  largest,  each  of  which  covered  a  page,  and  served 
as  a  frontispiece  to  its  own  half  of  the  story.  "  In  the  Fog  "  (J9n.)  gives  a  good  idea  of  the 
ghostly  appearance  presented  by  the  party  on  the  afternoon's  ride  to  Eastport  (see  p.  a6S),  and 
h»  leading  figure  is  perfectly  recognizable  as  the  President  of  the  Ma^uchusetts  B.  C. ;  while 
"  Rest  by  the  Roadside  "  (Feb.)  excellently  represents  the  scene  at  the  watering-trough  in  the 
Ca^^x>bello  woods,  described  on  p.  270.  (Proof  impressions  of  these  cuts,  on  heavy  paper  suita- 
ble for  framing,  may  be  had  for  20  c  each,  at  the  office  of  Outmgt  175  Tremont  St.,  Boston.) 
A  HttJe  picture  on  p.  341  gives  a  good  idea  of  "the  Ovens,"  which  I  have  mentioned  on  the 
oppooiie  page ;  aixl  a  larger  sketch  on  p.  245  well  recalls  the  appearance  of  the  party  on  their 
winding  way  through  the  woods  towards  Machias  (see  p.  271  antt\  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  "  Kkon  " ;  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  serried  mass  about  the  hotel 


28o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

door  at  Lubec"  (see  p.  969),  I  instated  on  keeping  my  head  out  of  range,  on  the  plea  that  h  was 
"  leas  worthy  of  notice  than  the  only  properly  shod  pair  of  feet  in  the  party/'— which  saoM 
booted  extremities  I  thrust  prominently  into  the  foreground.  If  my  face  was  photogn4»hed  aft 
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^ts  deadly  aim. 

This  recolleciion  suggests  that  I  may  as  well  improve  the  present  opportunity  for  punxiag 
on  record  my  personal  philosophy  in  regard  to  the  "  portrait  business," — for  when  a  whedmaa 
in  some  remote  part  of  the  world  supplements  a  friendly  corre^xmdenoe  by  an  offer  to  *'  es- 
change  photographs,"  it  seems  ungracious  in  me  to  refuse,  and  it  b  certainly  impossible  for  ae 
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  Tdegrum,  July  18,  '85,  appar- 
ently copied  from  some  fore^  journal),  concerning  a  certain  Countess  de  Castigliooe,  now 
living  in  Paris  at  the  age  of  about  50,  who  is  so  vain  of  her  own  alleged  beauty  that  she  keep* 
the  grand  saloon  of  her  mansion  "  adorned  with  photographs  of  herself  in  a  hundred  differeat 
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  viutors  to  content  themselves  by  starmf; 
at  these  pictures  as  a  substitute  for  her  own  perKonal  presence.  One  of  her  axioms,  ho 
"  To  see  me  against  my  will  is  to  rob  me,"  rather  appeals  to  my  sympathy,  because  it  c 
the  idea  on  which  is  baaed  my  own  objections  to  letting  strangers  have  my  likeness.  The  invad- 
ing abroad  of  a  knowledge  of  one's  features  tends — even  more  directly  than  the  attaching  o< 
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  personil  interview,  I  can  jwlgfe 
somewhat  of  the  impression  which  my  presence  makes  upon  the  party-of-the-seoond^mt,— siid 
I  can  have  as  much  of  a  hold  upon  him  as  he  upon  me,  in  case  we  ever  afterwards  chance  to  be 
thrown  witlun  sighting  distance  of  each  other ;  but  when  a  stranger  gets  hold  of  my  identity- 
trough  a  pictxn%,  he  gives  no  return  at  all  for  the  power  thereby  acquired  over  me, — and  I  pre^ 
fer  that  no  unknown  person  should  have  such  power.  Of  course,  a  friendly  comespoodent  who 
has  sent  me  his  picture  cannot  be  classed  as  "  unknown  "  (I  prize  such  pcntraits  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  are  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  it,  is  similar  lo 
the  difference  between  speaking  words,  which  vanish  into  thin  air,  and  writing  words,  which 
may  be  kept  and  twisted  into  "  evidence, "—like  the  terrible  "  chops  and  tomato  sauce  "  of  poor 
Mr.  Pickwick.  Litera  seripta  manet.  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  wotild  probably  pain  him  to  hear,  either  as 
being  wounding  to  his  self-love,  or  as  indicating  that  more  was  known  of  his  private  affairs 
than  he  would  like  to  have  known.  When  this  tittle-tattle  finds  its  way  into  print,  however,  it 
undergoes  a  very  serious  change.  Prom  being  the  gossip  of  a  few  score,  it  becomes  the  gosnp 
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 

foOowR  him  with  ridicule  or  discredit  to  all  the  hotels,  watering  places  and  steamhoats  in  the 
civilised  worid.  Personal  gossip  has  undoubtedly  been  from  the  eariiest  ages  the  chief  amuse- 
ment of  manlund,  and  will  probably  continue  to  be  so  as  long  as  humanity  is  the  chief  interest  of 
human  beings.  It  was  comparatively  harmless,  as  long  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  and  spread  by  steam  machinery, — and  any  of  it  that  is  harmful  is  terribly  harmful.  The 
editorial  oversights  and  mistakes,  even  il  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  finger 
among  us  in  considerable  numbers.  '  Society  editors '  find  it  hard  to  understand  them,  or  to 
aiympatbize  with  them,  but  they  are  none  the  less  God's  creatures  and  entitled  to  humane  con- 
sideration."—-rib  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  umply  to  my  name  and  address  as  a 
publisher,— without  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 
tiade-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  pireferences  are  of  a  purely  negative  sort,  they  ought  to  be  deferred  to,  no  matter  how 
wliimstcal  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  inactivity,  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 
in  the  illustrated  papers.  Indeed,  I  gave  permission  to  the  editor  of  the.^i.  IVorld  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 
formed  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  occasion  of  ray  last  previous  visit. 
In  my  diaracteristic  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- 
kaa  added  to  the  natural  and  life-like  quality  of  the  "  half-moon  "  view  of  my  white  flannel 
breeches  which  the  camera  perpetuated.  The  Bi.  Worlds  oddly  enough,  never  published  this 
"  speaking  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,  6lh  ed.,  1885,  pp.  115,  price  75  c),  "was  written  in  Oct.  1S66,  and  first 
privately  printed  in  the  following  May."  In  addition  to  excellent  photographs  of  Spouting  horn, 
Ea^le  lake.  Cathedral  rock,  Otter  cliffs  and  Somes  sound,  it  is  accompanied  by  a  U.  S.  Coast 
Smvey  map  (1875,  x8  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  (a),  price  20  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  bicj'ding  experiences 
on  Mt.  Desert  to  the  Bi.  W&rld  (Nov.  23,  '83,  p.  28),  supplementing  thus  the  report  of  the 
cariy  part  of  the  tour  which  that  paper  had  printed  (Aug.  31,  Sept.  7  and  21,  Oct.  5  and  a6), 
by  '*  Geesee,"  who  also  prepared  a  briefer  one  for  his  own  paper,  the  Mctrblektad  Masgmgtr, 


XXI. 

NOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND.* 

I  BELIEVE  that  the  voyager  who  steams  out  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  bleaic  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  city 
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  I 
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  Omimgr,  April,  1884,  pp.  11-18.  This  was  accompanied  by  a  fuIl-pi^  jnctiire  (^  a  bi- 
cycler (presumably  myself)  reclining  in  the  shade  of  a  Nova  Scotia  "forest,  primeval,— the 
whispering  pines  and  the  hemlocks";  and  it  gives  a  fairly  good  idea  of  the  same.  It  was  drawn  by 
Edmund  H.  Garrett ;  and  copies  of  it,  on  heavy  paper,  suitable  for  framing,  are  MippUed  fior 
so  c.  each  by  the  publishers  of  the  magazine,  175  Tremont  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 
▼iews  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  difficulty  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  k.  20  min.,  during  which  I  accomplished  14I  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  Weymouth,  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  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  mazy  dance  in  very  small  booths,  or  shanties,  through  whose  flimsy  roofi 
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 
Prti,  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  10 
when  I  said  good-bye  to  the  representatives  of  the  Jones  family,  who  had  ea- 
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  ij  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  of  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  fcrrj'  to  Meteghan  (which  would  have  made  a  pleasant  round  trip  from 
Yarmouth  of  about  150  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  average  excellence  of  the  roads  in  that  part  of  Nova 
Scotia.  Rain  again  fell  during  the  night,  and  a  heavy  mist  threatenecT  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  taldng  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  flat,  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 
much  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  1.  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  OTcr- 
looking  the  place  (though  I  might  more  readily  have  reached  this  smnmit  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  rn.,  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  macadamised, 
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  tour, 
and  lacked  but  i^  m.  of  reaching  the  same  distance  on  the  fifth. 

The  character  of  that  fifth  day's  riding,  which  completed  the  mn  of  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^— « 
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 J  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 
"  i6-Mi]e  House";  but  then  was  able  to  ride  without  stop  for  more  than  rjm. 
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'dock.  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 
630  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,  of  whose  flora]  beauties 
the  dty  is  Jostly  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  which  I  entered  the  dty 
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,  3  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  arc  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  00 
which  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  fairly  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,  Z04  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  ipay  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  dlsUnce  from 
the  ocean  of  from  2  to  10  m.,  until  it  turns  inland  to  Guysboro*,  at  the  head 
of  Chedabucto  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 
m.;  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  ofiE  place  **  at  Cheticamp,  7S  ni.  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  trafiic  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 ;  bat,  on 
the  whole,  I  recommend  Cape  Breton  as  an  attractive  field  for  the  ad- 
venturous tourist.  His  wheel  will  be  sure  to  be  ever>'where  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  fron 
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  th^re  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  length 
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  popo- 
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  4J  h.  00 


JVOVA  SCOTIA  AND  THE  ISLANDS  BEYOND.     29X 

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  mc  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  stifily  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  riding 
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  sighu  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";  bot  Halifai 
b  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  (thougjh  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  city  in  the  United  States. 
In  some  way  it  seemed  larger  to  me  than  most  other  cities  accredited  with  s 
similar  population  of  36/xx), — ^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  s 
fortnight  During  this  interval  my  cyclometer  recorded  349  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/>30  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  diaurge 
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^ 
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  raihroads  which  I 
patronised.    An  excellent  Uble  was  spread  m  the  cabin  of  the  '*  Worcester." 


JVOVA  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  officers  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  dvil  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  shore  r^ute  connecting  Yannouth  with  Halifax  (the  guide-book's  description  of 
wtddi  I  have  printed  on  p.  a88),  was  explored  during  the  first  six  days  of  Oct.  '83  by  £.  Norman 
Dnoock  (56  in.)>  of  Windsor,  accompanied  by  a  Mr.  Bu^  (54  in.),  from  whom  I  have  received  the 
f<dk>wiiig  report :  "  Except  for  the  last  65  m.,  from  Mahone  Bay  to  Halifax,  that  direct  road 
from  Yarmouth  is  ahnost  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 
pec^le  adl  along  the  shore  were  very  hospitable,  and  the  accommodations  were  fairly  good,  with 
but  ooe  or  two  exceptions.  We  were  particularly  favored  with  fine  weather.  On  the  afternoon 
Cff  the  1st,  we  went  from  Yarmouth  to  Argyle,  18  m. ;  ad,  to  Clyde,  30  m. ;  3d,  to  Jordan 
River,  34  m. ;  4th,  to  Mill  Village,  45  m.,  over  the  worst  road  of  all;  5th,  to  Chester,  45  m. ; 
6ih,  to  Halifax,  45  m.  On  Monday,  the  8th,  we  wheeled  home  45  m.  to  Windsor,  whence  we 
had  started  just  a  fortnight  before.    Oiir  ride  that  firat  day  was  to  Berwick." 

The  guide-book  which  1  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  am  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  connected  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  those  ideaUy  exceUent  European  guides  of  Bsdeker,  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. ;  another  (15  by  is  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. 
cot  from  the  largest  map  contained  all  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.X  ^vvho  also  issue  a  pair  of  their  own,  exhibiting  the  same  provinces  :  aj  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  Ticknor  ft  Co.,  may  perhaps  cause  a  change  in  naming  the  books.  '  The  price  of 
each  is  I X.  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  whidi 
bring  him  to  middle-age  at  thirty-five.  Of  his  possible  seven  decades,  that  b 
distinctively  the  one  during  which,  under  normal  condiiionft,  his  average  hcaltk 
and  vigor  will  most  nearly  approach  the  ideal  standard.  Health  may  not 
always  ensure  happiness,  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  d%wn-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  weeks  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  spring,  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  S^ingJUld  IVheelmtnU  GoMttU,  November,  1885.      ' 


STRAIGHTA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS.  295 

t2ge  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 
o£  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, 
18S4  (see  pp.  173, 174),  completed  a  year's  record  of  4,337  nu,  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,  255-2S1,  130-146, 
282-293,  107-X09.  By  this  time  I  had  sweat  enough  while  on  the  wheel  to 
effect  a  cure  of  the  malarial  sweats  which  had  occasionally  aillicted  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 
1,000  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,f— it  is  l^eautiful ;  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  grattify  my 
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  thai 
longest  and  best  macadamized  track  in  the  Union,  which  stretches  from  the 
edge  of  Pennsylvania  for  150  m.  s.,  through  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  to  Staosk- 
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  gradn- 
•  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 
ridicule  it  for  falling  short  of  my  promise,  because  I  promised  nothing. 

The  next  chapter  may  be  consulted  for  details  of  my  "  fortnight's  rWe  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.  ic.  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 
35l  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  Caztfnovia,  188 ^^ 
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  18th.  Of  the  three  times  in  previous  years  when  I  stayed  in  the  saddle 
as  much  as  a  week  (see  p.  50)  the  mileage  records  were  287,  251  and  280. 
Chapter  XXVL,  which  describes  the  first  occasion  of  my  trying  the  bicycle 
on  21  successive  days  (May  16  to  June  5,  1884;  774J  m. ;  daily  average  37  m.) 
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  fairly  illus- 
trates the  superiority  of  the  Canadian  roads,  and  gives  statistical  support  to 
my  expressed  opinion  that  the  course  of  a  1,000-m.  straightaway  bicycle 
race  might  be  laid  out  upon  them,  between  Detroit  and  Quebec,  to  very 
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  those 
which  Englishmen  indulge  in  between  Land's  End  and  John  O'Groat's, 
the  Dominion  rather  than  the  Union  is  destined  to  be  the  scene  thereof. 

The  powerful  part  played  by  the  weather  in  regulating  the  swiftness  of 
out-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 
illustrative  of  the  relative  ridableness  of  the  roads  in  the  different  regions 
traversed.  The  delays  caused  by  rain  and  mud  and  wind  were  nearly  enough 
alike  in  the  several  weeks  to  prevent  any  serious  interference  with  the  force 
of  my  argument.  In  ordinary  talk  about  touring  or  road-riding,  however, 
these  important  atmospheric  factors  are  apt  to  be  ignored ;  so  that  it  is  often 
carelessly  said  of  a  rider  who  has  easily  covered  90  or  100  m.  in  a  day  that  he 
might  continue  his  progress  straight  through  the  country  for  500  m.  in  a  week 
or  1,000  m.  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- 
tinct storms  in  those  fourteen  Canadian  days.  Two  of  them  were  very 
severe  ones,  which  wet  me  through  when  they  began,  at  the  end  of  day's 
rides ;  which  raged  all  night,  and  which  prevented  any  wheeling  on  the  fore- 
noons that  followed.  The  two  milder  rains  also  fell 'at  night,  and  rendered 
muddy  and  difficult  those  roads  which  otherwise  would  have  furnished  excel- 
lent riding.  Each  mild  rain  was  the  forerunner  of  a  day  or  tWo  of  damp  and 
threatening  weather,  ending  with  a  heavy  storm.  There  was  still  a  fifth  rain, 
in  the  form  of  a  shower,  which  shortened  my  second  day's  ride.  A  strong 
wind  at  my  back  helped  me  to  get  through  nearly  50  m.  of  mud  between 
Belleville  and  Kingston  on  my  twelfth  day,  and  the  rising  shower  drenched 
me  as  I  walked  the  last  few  miles  in  the  darkness.  Two  days  before,  when  I 
traversed  a  similar  distance  ending  at  Cobourg,  over  perfectly  smooth  roads 
with  many  up-grades,  I  had  the  wind  dead  against  me ;  and  I  was  also  forced 
to  face  a  bitter  blast  during  my  final  day  ending  at  Prescott,  when  I  man- 
aged in  14  h.  to  cover  about  47  m.,  though  much  of  the  track  was  roughly 
frozen.  The  wind  was  oftener  against  me  than  with  me  on  the  other  days ; 
so  that  I  might  probably  have  ridden  faster  if  faced  in  the  opposite  direction, 
on  that  particular  fortnight.  I  do  not  mention  its  weather  as  specially  bad, 
for  no  one  ought  to  complain  of  an  "average "  which  allows  a  certain  amount 


298         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

of  riding  every  day ;  but,  if  I  could  be  assured  of  having  continuously  pleas- 
ant weather,  and  the  wind  always  at  my  back,  I  would  engage  to  cover  those 
same  635  m.  in  ten  days.  A  fast  rider,  under  those  conditions,  could  cer- 
tainly make  the  journey  in  a  week  |  and  I  think  that  such  a  one,  even  under  the 
actual  conditions  experienced  by  me,  might  have  ridden  365  m.  further  in 
the  same  fortnight.  I  mean  by  this  that,  if  he  had  left  Windsor  when  I  did, 
on  the  8th  of  October,  and  followed  my  route,  he  might  have  measured  his 
i,oooth  m.,  at  some  point  beyond  Quebec,  at  the  identical  hour  when  I  reached 
Prescott,  on  the  21st. 

The  bitter  cold  of  the  frosty  morning  following  moderated  rapidly  after 
I  crossed  the  river  to  Ogdensburg,  and  the  next  four  days  were  mild  and 
pleasant,  though  a  slight  rain  fell  on  the  second  night.  During  these  four  I 
rode  i3Sm.,  ending  at  Syracuse  soon  after  noon  of  the  25th;  and  my  wheel 
rested  there  nine  days  before  I  resumed  the  journey.  As  I  had  ridden 
31 1  m.,  in  the  region  of  Detroit,  on  the  6th  and  7th,  I  could  now  for  the  first 
time  claim  acquaintance  with  the  saddle  for  twenty  consecutive  days,  and  my 
whole  record  was  804  m.  Dividing  this  by  19  (since  my  first  day's  ride  began 
and  my  twentieth  day's  ended  at  2  p.  m.),  shows  an  average  daily  mileage  of 
42}.  Having  planned  to  make  a  visit  of  five  or  six  days  with  a  friend  at 
Canandaigua,  I  had  despatched  my  baggage  to  his  house  when  I  took  train 
from  New  York  j  and,  as  bad  weather  caused  my  stay  with  him  to  be  pro- 
longed to  nine  days,  it  seems  likely  that  my  journey  would  have  been 
interrupted  *at  about  this  point,  in  any  case.  There  was  a  rain  storm  on  the 
night  of  the  26th,  and  the  remaining  days  of  the  month  were  nearly  all  damp 
and  cloudy,  with  occasional  rain,  which  changed  to  snow  on  the  evening  of 
November  i.  This  first  white  coat  of  the  season  mostly  disappeared  in 
slush,  the  next  day, — though  traces  of  it  lingered  longer  on  the  hill-tops,— 
and  I  resumed  my  ride  from  Syracuse  on  the  sunshiny  afternoon  of  the  jd. 
I  proceeded  as  far  as  Cazenovia,  21  m.,  and  occupied  3^h.  in  tramping  the 
last  third  of  that  distance  through  deep  mud  and  darkness.  Rain  fell  again 
during  the  night ;  and  of  the  7i  m.  which  I  traversed  the  following  afternoon, 
starting  at  4  o'clock,  I  walked  the  final  half  in  the  dark.  Mud,  resulting 
from  the  snow  and  rain,  forced  me  to  walk  about  20  m.  of  the  27  traversed  on 
the  5th ;  and  a  heavy  rain  on  the  evening  of  the  6th  made  the  next  forenoon's 
ride  a  slow  and  muddy  one.  The  air  was  damp  and  warm,  but  a  n.  wind 
favored  me  and  gave  promise  of  fair  weather.  This  lasted  only  two  days, 
however,  for  my  journey  of  the  8th  encountered  dense  mist  and  occasional 
rain  drops  during  its  final  hour,  ending  at  10.30  p.  M. ;  and  the  similar  con- 
dition of  drizzle  which  prevailed  when  I  started  on  again,  the  next  forenoon, 
soon  gave  place  to  a  two  hours'  steady  down-pour.  On  the  following  day  I 
traversed  40  m.  ending  at  Port  Jervis,  though  the  rain  was  falling  on  me  dur- 
ing at  least  half  of  the  1 1  h.  spent  upon  the  road.  The  baggage  which  I 
had  despatched  from  Canandaigua,  and  a  month's  mail-matter  from  Neir 
York«met  me  there  at  the  Delaware  House;  and  I  halted  a  day  to  enjoy 


STRAIGHTA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS.  299 

these  things,  and  to  have  my  new  handle-bar  fitted  at  a  machine  shop  on  Mon- 
day morning.  Otherwise,  I  might  have  progressed  a  few  miles  through  the 
mud,  on  that  damp  and  drizzly  Sunday,  whose  midnight  brought  a  sudden 
change  to  wintry  weather.  Six  inches  of  snow  adorned  the  car-tops  of  the 
trains  which  came  through  from  the  west  at  day-break ;  and  when  I  started 
down  the  Delaware  at  10  o'clock,  I  faced  a  bitter-cold  gale  of  wind  and  sev- 
eral brief  snow  squalls.  (Severe  cold,  indeed,  prevailed  for  a  week,  but  no 
more  rains  troubled  me  until  eleven  days  later,  just  at  my  journey's  end, 
409  m.  from  Port  Jervis.) 

The  sun  shone  at  noon,  when  I  passed  through  Mil  ford,  but  I  quickly 
encountered  another  tempest  of  snow ;  and  the  third  big  squall  of  the  day 
whitened  me  about  two  hours  later.  Odd  and  interesting  scenic  effects  were 
several  times  produced  by  these  alternations  of  sunshine,  clouds  and  snow, 
along  the  valley, — drifting  off  against  the  horizon  like  showers  in  summer. 
My  ride  of  28^  m.  ended  just  after  4  o'clock  at  the  Maple  Grove  Hotel,  below 
Bushkill.  Some  patches  of  mud  had  been  encountered  on  this  usually  per- 
fect track;  and  the  mud  and  water  froze  to  my  wheel.  Roughly  frozen  mud 
covered  most  of  my  roadway  of  the  following  forenoon,  and  my  unprotected 
finger-ends  grew  almost  numb  with  cold.  At  Stroudsburg  I  bought  a  cheap 
pair  of  thin  woolen  gloves,  and  found  that  my  "  ball-catcher's  mitts "  could 
be  put  on  over  these  with  perfect  comfort.  A  biting  blast  confronted  me  at 
the  start,  next  morning,  and  then  there  came  a  few  rain  drops  which  quickly 
changed  into  a  brief  gale  of  snow  ;  while,  at  my  midday  passage  of  the  bridge 
over  the  Lehigh,  at  Lchighton,  where  the  sun  was  shining,  a  much  more  ex- 
tensive snow-squall,  which  swept  through  the  defile  of  the  mountains  on  my 
right,  towards  Mauch  Chunk,  presented  a  charmingly  wintry  picture.  The 
moon  came  up  brightly  at  5.30,  that  afternoon,  but  my  course  soon  afterwards 
wound  among  gaps  in  the  mountains,  and  its  rays  were  shut  off  from  me, 
though  they  lighted  up  the  rugged  cliffs  on  the  further  side  of  the  Little 
Schuylkill,  which  was  at  my  1.  Monster  icicles  glistened  from  the  great 
rocks,  which  towered  above  me  on  the  r, ;  and  the  roadway,  which  had 
thawed  a  little  at  noon  and  then  frozen  solid,  was  too  rough  for  safe  riding 
even  if  it  had  been  out  of  the  shadow.  The  chilliness  of  the  gale  which 
swept  through  that  gap  seemed  phenomenal  in  its  intensity;  and  when  I 
reached  the  United  States  Hotel,  in  Tamaqua,  at  7  o'clock,  I  found  that  only 
a  twelfth  part  of  my  36  m.  record  had  been  made  in  the  last  i^  h.  Not  a  bit 
of  thawing  was  possible  the  next  day,  November  15,  though  brilliant  sun- 
shine cheered  my  33  m.  progress,  and  the  wind  helped  the  latter  half  of  it 
more  than  it  hindered  the  first  half.  Such  a  tremendous  blast  was  also  at  my 
back  when  I  left  Port  Clinton,  on  the  16th,  with  a  light  layer  of  snow  again 
whitening  the  ground,  that  I  could  not  possibly  have  wheeled  in  the  opposite 
direction ;  and  even  when  it  struck  me  sidewise,  later  in  the  day,  after  leaving 
Reading,  it  was  an  obvious  hindrance.  The  wind  was  slightly  adverse,  also, 
during  the  17th  and  i8th,— and  on  this  latter  day  the  intense  cold  definiteli* 


30O         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  22 ;  and  the  registry 
of  the  cyclometer,  from  Syracuse,  19  days  before,  was  618  m.,  or  a  daily 
average  of  32^.  Thus,  on  each  side  of  that  nine  days*  halting  place,  there 
was  a  record  of  exactly  20  days  with  the  wheel,  and  19  days  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  5S) 
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  or>e  will  be  "  loved  all  the  better  because  it  was  the  firsts 

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; 


STRAIGHTA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS.  301 

and  if  the  rains  which  preceded  made  mad,  they  also  laid  the  dast  and  stiff- 
ened up  the  sand  ruts, — those  two  banes  of   touring   in  very  dry  weather. 
The  rain  storms  indeed  never  once  proved  prohibitory  to  daily  progress,  and 
the  happ;ening  of  four  of  them  within  eight  days  did  not  prevent  my  fortnight 
in  Ontario  from  being  much  the  fastest  one  in  my  entire  wheeling  experience. 
I  may  as  well  confess  here  that  one  reason  for  such  swiftness  was  a  lack  of 
temptations  for  tarrying.    It  was  by  no  means  an  unpleasant  country  to  ride 
through, — ^it  was  far  less  monotonous  and  uninteresting  than  a  traveler  by 
train   would  imagine, — ^but  all  I  wanted  to  see  of  it  could  generally  be  seen 
well  enough  without  leaving  the  saddle.    There  were  few  salient  points  or 
noble  outlooks  where  I  longed  to  linger.    There  was  small  sense  of  loss  or 
regret  in  continually  moving  on.    From  Tecumseh  on  Lake  St.  Clair  to 
Kingsville  on  Lake  Ontario;  along  the  shore  of  this  for  loom,  till  in  the  re- 
gion of  St.  Thomas,  where  a  turn  was  made  cross  country  for  50  m.  to  Lake 
Huron  and  its  shore  skirted  for  a  dozen  miles  to  Goderich ;  then  another  in- 
land stretch  of  190  m.  to  Toronto,  and  a  shore  road  along  Lake  Ontario  and 
the  St.  Lawrence  for  230  m.  to  Prescott :  such  is  the  outline  of  a  course  that 
supplied  me  a  pleasing  variety  of  scenery,  but  '*  without  prejudice  *'  to  a  rapid 
passage  through  it    If  the  waters  of  the  lake,  in  sunshine  or  in  moonlight, 
made  a  pretty  section  of  my  horizon,  I  was  not  forced  to  halt  in  order  to  en- 
joy the  si>ectacle.    Its  attractiveness  was  increased,  rather,  by  the  constant 
change  implied  in  rapid  motion.    No  hills  worth  mentioning  were  met  for  the 
first  100  m. ;  and  the  roadway,  without  being  absolutely  straight,  was  a  very 
direct  one,  having  few  abrupt  turns  or  angles.    Cleared  and  cultivated  lands 
extended  back  from  it  on  each  side,  for  ^  m.  or  }  m.,  with  a  fringe  of  woods 
behind  them,  against  the  horizon.    In  the  hillier,  rougher  and  less  fertile  re- 
gions which  I  traversed  later,  I  found  similar  conditions  generally  prevailing, 
in  a  somewhat  modified  form :  that  is,  there  was  usually  a  stretch  of  open 
country  near  the  road,  with  a  wooded  background.    It  seems  to  me  that  very 
little  of  my  riding  was  "  in  the  woods,"  and  almost  none  of  it  in  heavily-tim- 
bered forests.    I  think,  too,  that  hardly  any  shade-trees  had  been  planted  along 
the  wayside.    Beneath  the  blazing  sun  of  midsummer,  therefore,  a  '*  tenderfoot " 
tourist  through  Ontario  might  perhaps  consider  its  roads  a  trifle  too  much 
€tl  fresco ;  but,  on  the  whole,  as  I  have  said,  to  a  cycler  who  wants  the  pecul- 
iar pleasure  of  pushing  himself  at  a  swift  pace  across  a  wide  stretch  of  coun- 
try, •*  Talbot  Street  **  offers  far  greater  attractions  than  any  500-m.  thorough- 
fare in  the  United  States. 

There  i>,  let  me  here  insist,  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  thus  swiftly  "  walking 
large  "  with  the  wheel ;  and  a  part  of  that  pleasure,  to  the  philosophic  mind, 
consists  in  certain  distinctive  intellectual  advantages  thus  gained,  which  could 
not  be  gained  by  slowly  wheeling  over  the  same  roads  in  separate,  short 
journeys.  For  example,  the  fundamental  fact  that  all  material  prosperity  is 
based  upon  successful  agriculture,  was  exhibited  to  me  with  the  impressive- 
ness  which    attaches  only  to  an  "object  lesson."    The  "garden  regio-- 


302  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

of  Ontario,"  which  I  entered  at  the  outset,  evidently  supplied  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  600  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  agii cultural,  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  countiT  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 

mi1e-pK>sts  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,  Grcencastlc,  Martinsburg,  Hagerstown 
and  Gettysburg  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 
in.  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 
scenery,  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  tottered  tires  of  my  oU' 


304 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


"  Number  234  ^  should  make  a  monumental  mark  upon  the  surface  of  the  con- 
tinent which  it  represented.  I  fixed  in  mind  "  i,ooD  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  laying  it  down. 
**  Those  forces  have  finally  won  the  fight,"  I  felt  despairingly,  as  the  runawaj 
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  3.40  p.  M.  of  Saturday,  November  10,  when  the  loo-m.  pointer  of  my  cydonh 
eter,  having  made  exactly  ten  revolutions  since  the  start  at  Detroit,  again 
stood  at  "45.6."  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  Vah  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  moimt- 
ains.  During  the  previous  2  h.  I  had  managed  to  ride  7  m.,  in  spite  of  the  mod 
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  vxm  I  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  sipped  the  beer  and  thought : 

Not  he  who  rides  through  ooaquered  city's  gate  at  the  head  of  blasoned  host,  and  to  the  soaad 
Of  victors'  trumpets,  in  full  pomp  and  state  of  war,  the  utmost  pitch  has  dreamed  or  found 

To  which  the  thrill  of  triumph  can  be  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 ; 
But  tu  wh0  kaSf  aU  tingU'kandid^  flood  ndthfon  sMoisibU  om  tvtry  tidt, 
Amd,  wuiuptcUdoftht  muUihidt^  tht/orc§  o/FaU  itul/koi  dandy  d^d. 

And congurndt  siUtdly. 
Ah  1  that  soul  knows  in  what  white  heat  the  blood  of  triumph  flows  1 


STRAIGHTA  WA  Y  FOR  FORTY  DA  YS,  305 

The  white  flannel  of  my  riding-shirt,  which  the  rain  had  been  moistening 
for  hoors»  was  not  to  be  dried  even  by  the  white  heat  of  this  thousand-mile 
triumph ;  but  the  glow  ol  this  was  certainly  great  enough  to  make  the  next 
hour's  riding  very  vivid  in  my  memory.  I  wheeled  through  no  less  than  5  m. 
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, — encountering 
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  reachii^  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  posii^  themselves  in  a  sort  of  ghostly  fashion,  as  their  great  shapes 
loomed  up  with  vague  outlines  against  a  background  of  mist.  The  yellow 
l^hts  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  iEneas  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  bid  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 : 

"  InJrHa  dnm  flmni  atrrtnt^  d$tm  monism  nmbr€g 
Lmairabma  c^mvexa,  polu$  dmm  suUrapa$e€t^ 
Stmptr  kffnoSf  nomtngut  /wwm,  landtsqut  mam^utU^ 
Qtui  m*  cnrnque  voctuU  Urra.^^ 

Only  one  fall  was  experienced  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 


3o6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

On  9  of  those  19  days  I  traveled  a  certain  amount  of  time  (J  h.  to  5  fa^  or 
X4h.  in  ail)  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  cyclers  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  ioo*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  18  m.  more  of  slow  progress  in  the 
dark,  I  had  a  backward  fall  when  my  wheel  plunged  into  a  mudhole.    This 
was  the  most  painful  one  of  any  in  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  o£E  the  right  handle  by  contact  with  a  rock-     A  few  houis 
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  hl  I  dropped  my  wheel  in  a  mud 
rut ;  at  the  663d  m.,  I  flew  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  I 
got  to  Syracuse,  but  was  cured  before  I  resumed  the  toun  ^ 

>  Physicians  having  Bevcial  times  questioned  me  as  to  my  possibly  noticing  any  pathology 
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  gencnl 
answer  right  here,  as  a  note  to  this  report  of  my  longest  personal  experience  a-wheelback.    As 


STRAIGHTA IVA  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  of  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  m.  caused  the  wheels  to  interfere; 
bttt  I  palled  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  coarse  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  ™*  i'^om  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  dub  which  does  the  most  to  increase  the  sale  of  this  book  1 


laost  of  my  toon  are  begun  after  an  abstinence  of  weeki  or  months  from  the  saddle,  the  ridiog 
of  the  first  few  days  (35  or  40  m.  each)  always  hardens  up  the  faeces,  so  that  the  act  of  expul- 
aon  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  lifie  is  resumed  again.  As  regards  this  only  unpleasant  tendency  known 
to  my  own  experience  of  wheeling,  my  off-hand  inference  was  that  people  afflicted  with  costive- 
neiB,  piles  and  other  prevalent  rectal  and  anal  troubles  (from  which  I  have  always  been  free) 
might  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 
aM  the  remedies  of  the  medicine<men  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  tli^n  I  have,  ^nd  whose  longest  day*s  rides  have  exceeded  my  longest.  Since  the  time 
when  he  explained  to  me  his  singular  restoration  to  health,  I  have  been  unwilling  to  admit  that 
asr|r  man,  who  is  capable  of  walking,  will  be  more  likely  to  aggravate  than  to  ctue  any  diseased 
part  or  tendency  of  his  bod^  by  a  use  of  the  bicycle.  As  regards  a  slight  saddle-sorenem  or 
stiffness,  wfaidi  haa  sometimes  repaid  me  for  taking  a  30  or  40  m.  ride  after  long  inactivity,  I  have 
always  fomid  it  diminish  on  the  second  day  of  a  tour,  and  disappear  on  the  third.  Slight  super- 
ficial  sores  or  pim]^  skin-blistera,  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.  fa  that  the  presumed  weakness  in  my  left  elbow,  caused  by  dislocating  it  in  '79,  was  for  the 
first  lime  hinted  to  me  in  taking  some  50  m.  rides,  after  my  attack  of  fever  in  '8a,  I  am  gkd  to 
add  that  my  forty  days'  tour  seems  to  have  cured  it  of  all  tendency  to  offer  such  hints.  My  elbow 
tioufaJed  me  not  at  all  on  that  toar«  nor  has  its  possible  weakness  been  suggested  to  me  nnoe. 


3o8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

My  reason  for  not  offering  theiA  thus  as  a  help  to  my  subscription-list 
(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  1  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  Kghtness  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  tor  getting  rid  of  **  malaria,"  and  storing  up  a 
supply  of  strength  sufficient  for  the  production  of  this  book,  my  forty  days  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 
'^r  the  sake  of  conquering  them,  while  innumerable  pleasanter  regions  are 


STRAIGHTA  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 
uow  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  favly  taken  in  hand  the  political  management  of  this  continent  (though 
the  superfluously  lagging  veterans  who  were  not  "  in  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  man- 
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  mdividual,  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  hartnlesB  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  voioes  from  the  Past  are  calling,       [pleasure. 

Min^  with  rustling  whispers  in  the  trees,  and  pleasant  sounds  of  water  idly  falling. 

Pniae,  if  you  will, '  the  man  of  higher  aims '  I    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  glisten. 

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  yon  who  wish  for  fame,  good  friend,  pass  by:  with  you  I  surely  cannot  think  to  quarrel : 

^^  me  peace,  health,  this  wheel  whereon  I  fly,  and  spare  me  both  the  labor  and  the  laurel ! " 


XXIII. 

A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO.* 

So  many  pretty  tales  had  been  told  roe  about  the  smoothness  of  these 
Canadian  roads  that  I  thought  they  might  offer  a  better  chance  than  aoj 
other  for  testing  my  ability  to  push  a  46-inch,  cone-bearing  bicycle  straight 
through  the  country  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  b^an  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  11  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.  u.  Meanwhile,  however,  I  wheeled  down  to  the  lake,  1} 
m.  distant,  and  took  a  swim.  I  stopped  for  the  night  at  a  little  tavern  m 
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  (i2|  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 
other  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  Tkg  L,  A.  W.  ButUtin^  November  and  December,  1885. 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


3" 


scb,  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  besty  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  roadwaj  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.  Ca, — ^turning  I.  at  the  top  of  the  little  hill  after  crossing  the  ferry  to  Wind- 
sor ;  then  r.  into  the  road  which  branches  ofiE  near  where  a  r.  r.  bridge  may  be 
seen  on  the  L  below  (it  was  at  this  point  that  I  made  my  first  mount,  next 
morning,  an  hour  before  daylight,  and  faced  for  Essex  Center) ;  then  L  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, — 
finbhing  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  %o  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  f rOm 
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,  188$)  happens  to  be  the  second  anniTersary  of 
this  opening  journey  o£  my  fortnight  in  Ontario ;  and  I  am  thereby  reminded  to  utter  warning 
sigaittst  the  deceitf ntaieas  of  newspaper  paragraphs  recently  drculated  to  the  effect  that  there  has 
been  a  recent  chai^  made  for  the  better  in  Canada's  cumbenome  customs  regulations  about 
bicydes.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  still  classed  among  ordinary  "  carriages  of  travelers  and 
vehicles  laiden  with  merchandise,"  which  (under  the  rules  of  Aug.  5,  *8i,  printed  xx^L.A.  W. 
BmUtlm^  Aug.  13,  '85,  p.  133)  are  required  to  leave  the  Dominion  within  two  days,  at  the  pbce 


312  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

The  reason  why  a  loo  m.  ran  should  not  extend  beyond  Clearrille  is 
shown  by  the  extract  appended  to  this  paragraph;  though  I  found  the  road, 
three  months  later,  by  no  means  so  intolerable  as  therein  described.  The 
first  i^m.  from  the  hotel  at  C,  and  the  last  i}  ni.to  the  hotel  at  Wallacetown 
(including  a  steep  hill  in  each  case),  I  wheeled  without  dismount ;  and  the 
intermediate  distance,  which  my  cyclometer  called  14  m.,  I  got  over  at  the  rate 
of  3  m.  per  h.,  with  occasional  bits  of  riding.  Reaching  a  little  place  called 
Eagle,  just  at  dusk,  with  a  day*s  record  of  37}  m.,  I  stopped  there  for  the 
night,  because  the  rain-drops  from  a  black  cloud  which  had  been  following 
me  some  hours  threatened  to  give  trouble  if  I  persisted  in  my  plan  of  tramp- 
ing through  the  dark  to  W.,  6)  m.  beyond.  My  third  day's  tour,  7  a.  M.  to  5 
p.  M.,  was  39}  m.,  ending  at  the  Tecumseh  House  in  London;  and  all  of  it 
beyond  W.  was  ridden,  though  some  rough  riding  was  encountered  because 
of  my  choosing  the  poorest  of  two  possible  routes  at  Five  Stakes.  As  I  did 
nut  go  to  St.  Thomas,  my  route  differed  from  that  of  the  Chicago  men  for 
several  m., —  lona  apparently  being  the  point  of  divergence.  After  only  6  b. 
in  bed,  I  was  roused  on  Thursday,  October  1 1,  at  5  o'clock,  and  I  mounted  in 
the  dusk  of  daybreak  at  5.45,  and  rode  to  Clandeboye,  20  m.,  in  just  3  h., 
where  I  halted  i^  h.  for  a  breakfast  of  chocolate,  eggs,  bread,  milk,  apple- 
sauce and  water.  I  had  previously  eaten  a  half-pound  of  grapes  as  I  wheeled 
along,  and  gnawed  a  few  bits  of  chocolate.  This  was  during  the  first  h., 
which  brought  me  to  the  broken  bridge  at  St.  John,  6  m.  (beyond  Arva,  be- 
fore reaching  which  I  rode  up  a  hill  \  m.  long) ;  and  I  was  delayed  here  \  h., 
by  walking  through  the  sand,  to  get  around  the  break.    Thence  I  went  at 


where  they  enter  it,  or  else  have  security  given  equad  to  tha  amount  of  duty,  which  will  be  re- 
funded on  proof  that  they  have  been  taken  out  of  the  Dominion  within  30  days.  Strictly  en- 
forced, this  would  be  in  effect  prohibitory  to  international  touring  on  the  wheel  (for  no  one  would 
lay  out  a  route  "  across  the  line,"  in  the  face  of  such  a  redrtape  penalty,  so  long  as  good  roads 
were  freely  open  to  him  elsewhere),  but  the  harshness  of  the  rule  is  mitigated  by  the  great  dis- 
cretion allowed  the  collectors  in  deciding  what  constitutes  *'  security."  In  my  case,  for  eaample, 
it  was  nothing  more  than  a  verbal  promise  to  push  the  wheel  home  to  New  York  as  quiddy  as 
possible;  and  I  presume  that  any  other  solitary  tourist,  who  encountered  a  good-natured  col- 
lector, and  could  convince  him,  that  the  wheel  was  not  to  be  left  for  sale  in  the  Dominion,  would 
escape  the  annoyance  and  expense  implied  in  making  a  deposit  of  money,  as  required  by  law. 
What  tourists  want,  however,  is  not  an  assurance  of  the  probability  that  this  antiqtia,ted  law  may 
be  officially  evaded,  but  rather  an  official  prodamation  that  they  shall  be  free  to  enter  Canada 
under  the  same  safe  and  simple  rule  which  my  Bermuda  trip  of  '84  fmxxd  our  own  Treasury 
Department  to  adopt  concerning  the  admission  of  touring  wheelmen  into  the  Umted  States  (as 
detailed  on  pp.  363-37o)«  Let  the  Canadian  Wheelroen*s  Association  demonstrate  its  value  by 
sending  such  a  committee  to  tha  Customs  Department  at  OtUwa  as  shall  convince  that  noble 
branch  of  the  Circumlocution  Office  that  there  is  a  present  need  of  reform.  Thoiq^h  the  bic^ 
is  a  carriage,  it  is  distinctively  a  "  personal  "  one,— as  necessary  to  the  tourist's  comfort  as  the 
clothes  which  he  wears.  Even  so  unprogressive  a  government  as  that  of  Italy  long  ago  leoog- 
nixed  this  truth  by  permitting  free  passage  at  the  frontiers  to  wheels  in  actual  aerrioe ;  and  it  ha» 
just  now  extended  the  privilege  to  those  carried  by  trains,  when  accompanied  by  their  ownen. 
Why,  then,  should  Canada  pretend  to  keep  up  a  Chinese  wall,  for  preventing  <h*  money  oC 
Yankee  travelers  from  reaching  the  pockets  of  her  hotel-keepers  ? 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


313 


speed  to  Ckuideboye,  through  Birr  and  Lucan,  where  a  long  hill  was  climbed, 
— not  dismounting  at  all  during  the  14  m.,  except  two  or  three  times  for  skit- 
tish horses,  within  2  m.  of  the  bridge.    Mounting  at  C,  on  the  stroke  of  lo, 
I  never  left  the  saddle  until  11.  xo,  when  I  stopped  20  min.  at  the  hotel  in 
Exeter  to  imbibe  two  lemonades.    The  cyclometer  showed  10}  m.  as  the  dis- 
tance ;  and  on  only  one  previous  occasion  had  I  ever  gone  over  such  a  stretch 
so  rapidly  (Sept.  20,  '80;  North  East  to  Westdeld,  N.  Y. ;  see  p.  206).    The 
driver  of  a  buggy,  who  tried  for  several  m.  to  run  away  from  me,  served  very 
efifectively  as  a  pace-maker.     At  Exeter  I  began  the  swiftest  of  all  my  long 
straightaway  stays  in  the  saddle,— dismounting  at  the  hotel  in  Bayfield  at  1.52 
p.  M.  with  a  record  of  22  m.  for  the  2  h.  22  min.     The  last  8  m.  were  run  in 
less  than  35  min.  (if  I  read  the  cyclometer  right  when  I  made  a  brief  halt,  at 
1.15,  as  a  precaution  Against  frightening  a  pretty  woman's  horse).    On  this 
most  exhilarating  spin,  the  wind  helped  me  greatly  as  far  as  Bi^icefield  (where 
I  turned  1.  up  a  long  slope  and  then  crossed  a  bridge  and  a  big  hill  beyond), 
and  I  met  no  other  such  ideally  smooth   and  level  stretch  in  the  whole 
1,400  m.  of  my  journey.     Having  now  covered  53  m.  in  8  h.  (three  straight 
pulls  of  6  h.  10  min.  in  the  saddle),  I  halted  40  min.  and  absorbed  about  a  quart 
oi  milk  before  entering  upon  the  second  and  roughest  stage  of  the  ride, 
whose  47  m.  required  almost  12  h.  more  (including  2}  h.  of  rests).    The  13  m. 
ending  at  Goderich  at  4.30  P.  M.  were  done  in  2  h.,  though  the  level  roadway 
(much  of  it  in  sight  of  Lake  Huron)  was  nearly  all  muddy  and  difficult. 
Having  added  i  m.  and  \  h.  in  G.,  while  securing  another  quart  of  milk,  I 
changed  my  course  from  n.  e.  to  s.  e. ;  and  when  dusk  settled  down,  at  5.45, 
I  had  covered  72  m., — the  longest  distance  ever  done  by  me  in  12  h.    There 
were  many  hills  in  this  region,  and  I  gave  50  min.  to  the  next  4  m.,  ending 
at  the  hotel  in  Holmesville,  where  I  rested  2  h.,  for  a  bath,  a  change  of  clothes 
and  a  supper  (which  was  of  the  same  character  as  my  breakfast — no  solid 
food  having  been  partaken  of  during  the  10  h.  intervening).    I  was  told  that 
the  town  of  Mitchell,  24  m.  distant,  had  a  good  hotel  called  the  Hicks  House, 
and  that  the  road  thither  was  smooth,  without  many  hills.    The  moon  prom- 
ised to  light  my  way,  and,  as  I  was  by  no  means  weary,  the  conditions  tempted 
me  to  undertake  the  completion  of  100  m.     Before  I  reached  Clinton,  at  9.15 
(4  m.  in  }  h.),  the  moon  had  ceased  to  shine,  and  the  wind  came  up  against 
me.    Cheered  there  by  a  bottle  of  ginger  ale,  I  fared  to  Seaforth,  9  m.,  in 
the  next  2  h.,  and  there  indulged  in  two  bottles, — my  last  refreshment  of  the 
journey.    After  midnight,  when  my  cyclometer  stood  at  91  m.,  the  wind  blew 
against  me  with  increasing  force,  the  mist  thickened,  and  the  darkness  deep- 
ened, so  that  the  track  grew  much  more  obscure.     I  could  barely  distinguish 
it  for  a  rod  or  so  ahead  of  me  as  a  lightish  line  in  the  general  blackness,  but 
the  big  stones,  wTfiose  whiteness  had  given  warning  to  me  earlier  in  the  night, 
were  now  hidden  from  view,  and  I  did  much  walking  for  fear  of  them.    At  i 
o'clock,  a  clump  of  houses  on  a  cross-roads  assured  me  that  I  had  reached 
the  hamlet  of  Dublin,  and  was  within  less  than  6  m.  of  the  finish.    My  feet 


3^4 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


were  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  imtH 
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.,  cooi- 
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.  26,  '83,  p.  330),  and  a  report  ef 
it  also  appeared  in  Haslett's  "  Summary  of  Notable  Runs  "  {Tht  IVkeelman^  Feb.,  '84,  p.  3M 
The  May  and  Jutie  inues  of  the  latter  journal  (pp.  97-106,  175-185)  pabUBhed  IVeaideBt 
Bates's  report  of  the  experiences  in  Canada  of  the  forty  Chicago  tourists,  wboee  route  fnn 
Windsor  to  Goderich  (July  3-5,  '83)  was  practically  identical  with  my  own,  and  who  \aA 
planned  to  ride  during  the  next  two  days  to  Mitchell  and  Brantford,  but  were  forced  by 
bad  weather  to  take  train  thither.  Of  the  25  m.  traversed  thence  to  reach  Hamilton,  at  the 
head  of  Lake  Ontario,  he  says :  "All  the  tourists  walked  at  least  half  and  most  of  them  walked 
two  thirds.  It  was  the  '  hardest '  road  we  had  yet  encountered.  Planks  (mostly  mmifahb, 
in  various  stages  of  brokenness,  filled  in  with  unfathomable  mud)  formed  the  first  9  m.  of  k; 
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.,  bc^an  '  goiag 
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  Clearville,  the  road  grew  npidly  bad,  umdl,  in  a 
few  m.,  it  became  positively  the  worst  road  any  of  the  party  had  ever  seen.  Within  a  distaaoe 
of  16  ro.  were  18  tremendous  hiUs,  made  by  deep  valleys  carved  In  the  great  clay  blu£Es  by  npid 
streams  of  muddy  water.  The  road,  owing  to  the  long  wet  season,  was  a  conglomexatiaB  ol 
lumps  of  dry,  hard  clay,  with  stones,  ruts,  and  occasional  stretches  ci  deep  sand.  The  po^ 
along  15  m.  of  it  left  no  imprint  of  any  foot'^travel.  Even  where  hamlets  were  found  of  £raa 
15  to  30  houses,  there  were  no  sid»path8  from  house  to  house;  no  turf,  no  relief  of  any  tdnd. 
The  road  generally  was  not  even  waUcable;  it  had  no  flat  surface  big  enough  to  plant  one'k fool 
on.  Certainly  it  was  the  worst  day  road  I  ever  saw.  After  about  15  nu  of  thia  sort  ol  tfaisg, 
the  whole  party  were  at  last  enabled  to  mount  and  ride  into  Wallacetown  for  supper,  with  a 
day's  record  of  40  m."  He  says  that  the  whole  party  were  only  39  min.  in  wheelii^  the  6-bi. 
stretch  ("  as  smooth  as  an  asphalt  pavement ")  ending  at  Bayfield. 

The  only  straightaway  ride,  of  loom,  in  a  day,  which  had  been  taken  in  Canada  piwioB 
to  my  own,  was  that  of  C.  H.  HepansUll,  Captain  of  the  St  Thomas  B.  C.  and  a  jeweler  bf 
occupation,  who  wrote  for  me  this  report :  "  Starting  at  4.05  a.  h.  of  Sept.  30,  '8a,  I  readied 
London  (18 m.)  at  6.10,  and  waited  till  7.20  for  repairs;  stopped  at  St.  John  (6  m.)  |b.  for 
breakfast,  and  at  Lucan  (9  m.)  |  h.  for  a  rider  who  wished  to  go  a  few  m.  with  me.  Reacbiqg 
Exeter  (48  m.  from  the  surt)  at  xi.05,  I  started  on  at  xi.45 ;  reached  Mitchell  (15m.)  at  1.1$. 
rested  a  h.  for  dinner,  and  then  went  on  to  Listowel  (24  m.)  at  6.05.  Leaving  here,  after  ■ap> 
per,  at  8.10,  I  finished  at  Fordwich  (15  m.)  at  9.47,  making  toa  m.  in  xy  h.  42  mim,  or  a  Side 
over  XI  h.  of  actual  riding.  My  object  was  not  to  do  the  distance  in  the  least  poesibto  time,  bet 
rather  to  wheel  to  Fordwich  in  a  day,  and  see  all  my  friends  that  I  could  in  the  towns  akog  tk 
road.  I  carried  a  heavy  m.  i.  p.  bag,  full  as  I  could  stuff  it,  and  another  quite  as  laige.  hi 
Saturday  is  the  time  when  country  people  come  to  market,  I  was  continually  meeting  teans 
which  would  not  face  the  wheel.  Considerable  rain  fell  in  the  forenoon,  but  the  afteniooovo 
pleasant    From  Exeter  to  Mitchell  the  road  was  somewhat  sandy  and  stony  ;  and  from  titers 


A  FORTNIGHT  TN'  ONTARIO. 


315 


to  listowel  quite  amfdable,  being  covered  with  deep  paraUel  ruU,  aa  no  repain  have  been 
Bade  ior  yean.  I  had  to  pick  my  way  along  the  sides ;  and  I  may  say  the  same  of  my  route 
from  L.  to  F.p  which  led  through  swampe  with  corduroy  crossings  and  many  stones,— making 
night-riding  very  awkward.  The  surface  fax>m  London  to  Exeter  was,  as  usual,  '  simply  mag- 
dficeot.'  '*  It  will  be  observed  that  his  route  coincided  with  mine  for  these  30  m.,  which  he 
covered  between  7.20  and  1  x.05  (3)  h.,  with  stops  of  f  h.)f  as  compared  to  my  5.45  to  1 1. xo  (5I  h., 
with  stops  of  x|  h.) ;  showing  that  even  my  riding  time  was  i  h.  slower  than  his. 

At  the  dose  of  the  summer  of  '85,  four  members  of  the  Star  W.  C.  of  Cleveland  (Henry  E. 
Chabb,  John  J.  McTlgue,  Walter  Collins,  and  Joseph   Weitz),  engaged  in  a  successful  fort- 
night's lour,  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;    i6th,  to  London,  18; 
tTth,  to  Godericfa,  .66;   i8th,  to  Woodstock,  69;  19th,  to  Guelph,  48}  30th,  to  Toronto,  60; 
sist,  spent  in  Toronto;  aid,  to  Hamilton,  40;  33d,  to  Niagara,  50;  a4th,  35th  and  36th,  in 
Niagara  and  Buffalo ;   37th,  to  Erie,  98 ;   a8th,  spent  in  Erie ;   39th,  to  Oeveland,  8a.    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 
El^  B.  C,  as  reported  in  CamatUan  Wkulnuut.  (March,  '85,  p.  67) :    "Starting  frpm  my 
home  on  Lake  Huron  at  7  a.  m.  of  Aug.  34,  I  passed  through  Underwood  and  Tiverton  over 
fint-dass  gravel  road,  and  reached  Kincardine,  34  m.,  in  3  h.,  spite  of  the  wind  and  rain.    About 
II  m.  beyond,  the  wind  increased  to  almost  a  hurricane,  but  I  wheeled  for  6  m.  behind  a  buggy, 
winch  broke  the  force  of  it,  and  having  lit  my  lamp  at  a  comer-store,  8  m.  from  Goderich,  I 
managed  to  reach  there  in  i^h.,  60m.  from  home.     The  wind  was  with  me  on  the  35th,  and 
I  leached  London  in  8  h.  of  riding  time.    The  next  afternoon  I  rode  to  St.  Thomas  in  3  h.,  and 
on  the  forenoon  of  the  fourth  day  to  Ayhner.    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  38th  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- 
cbss.    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,  4a  m.    The  first  34  m. 
cf  Uus  could  easily  be  done  imthout  dismount,  as  there  are  but  few  hills  until  Seaforth  is  reached. 
In  feet,  the  region  of  Clinton  is  where  most  of  the  hills  on  this  route  seem  to  have  been  placed ; 
but  Btin  the  roads  are  fine,  and,  in  spite  of  heat  and  dust,  I  made  the  last  13  m.  to  Goderich  in 
i^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  35  min.    In  the  afternoon  I  went  36  m.,  through  Riversdale  and 
Enniskillen,  on  the  Durham  gravel  road,  to  Walkerton,  with  a  strong  sun  and  hot  wind  on  my 
bade  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-cent  straw  hat,  in  which  I  placed  a  fresh  cabbage-leaf  several  times  a 
day;  and  I  <fid  not  meet  with  a  single  accident    I'm  only  sorry  that  my  outing  was  not  two 
•nonths  mstead  of  two  weeks," 

The  same  rider  thus  describes  the  final  section  of  route  which  he  took  by  train  ("  C.  W.  A. 
Goide,** p.  4a) :  "Port  Elgin  to  Walkerton,  33m.,  may  easily  be  ridden  in  4h.  Roads  ot 
fint  half,  to  Paisley,  very  good  and  not  much  affected  by  rain  ;  spite  of  some  ugly  hills,  to  be 
^Iked  up  and  down,  stretching  through  i^m.,  the  16  m.  require  less  than  3  h.  Last  hall 
(dmx^h  Dunkeld,  xi  m.,  and  Johnston's  Comers,  3|  m.)  is  too  soft  after  a  rain,  and  too  dusty 
">  dry  weather.  In  starting  from  P.  E.  to  Paisley,  you  go  3^  m.  s.  e.  on  Goderich  road  to  Half- 
way House,  then  3^  m.  s.  to  Buigoyne.  The  xl  road  from  Port  Elgin  to  Southampton  u  7  m. 
of  perfectly  level  gravel,  whidi  the  rain  improves,  and  may  be  ridden  in  \  h.  From  Owen  Sound 
(on  Georgian  Bay,  a  branch  of  Lake  Huron)  to  Port  Elgin,  a8  m.,the  route  leads  through  Tara, 
n  m.,  of  which  the  first  7  are  rocky  and  rough  on  the  Goderich  rood ;  then  s.  3|  m.  on  county 
Qne;  then  x\m,  w.  on  loth  conoessioik  Arran,  good  gravd;   then  i| m.  a.  to  Tara;    \\ m.  w. 


3i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

to  Inyermay,  hard  gravel ;'  then  3I  m.  w.  to  Arkwright,  fine ;  then    5  in.  w.  to  Biaigoyne,  faaid 
and  good.    The  16  m.  from  T.  to  P.  E.  is  the  best  in  this  region.    The  AUenford  and  Ekinocc 
route  from  Owen  Sound  to  P.  £.,  though  shorter  than  the  T.  route,  is  not  so  good."    0«ea 
Sound  was  also  tHe  objective  point  in  a  400-m.  tour  taken  by  W.  J.  Williams  and  Mcrbert 
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  Bcx&.— 
whence  to  W.  was  very  hilly.    Next  day,  through  fine  scenery  to  Breshiu,  and  tlien  by  m^ 
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  ML  Forest,  10  m., — the  afternoon  road  be- 
ing bad  and  much  cut  up.     Fourth  ride,  40  m.  to  Woodford,  through  Williamsford,  Chatswortb 
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  Geocgian  Bagr  *> 
Calling  wood  (rotten  stone  and  fine  gravel,  one  of  the  best  roads  we  ever  saw) ;  thence,  00  a  sob 
road  and  against  a  head-wind  to  Stayner,  where  we  gave  up,  and  took  train  to  Orillia,  at  the  a. 
end  of  Lake  Simcoe ;  record,  45  m.     Next  day  was  a  tough  one  :  we  took  train  back  to  Bank, 
at  s.  w.  comer  of  lake,  and  wheeled  thence  across  country  45  m.  to  Mono  Center ;  had  rain  oa 
a  day  road  to  Cookston,  and  then  soft  sand ;  after  passing  AUiston,  climbed  the  Mono  hUIs,  op 
some  of  which  we  could  scarcely  push  our  wheels   because  of  steepness.    Tlie  next  50  m.  lo 
Guelph  led  through  Orangeville  (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  b. 
(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  bric^^e  before  taking  our  dinner  at  Shakespeare.     Including  38  m.  ridden 
at  Guelph,  we  wheeled  4x1  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  Eia- 
mosa  road  about  the  same  distance  n.  of  the  Bristol  Hotel  ruins,  where  my  own  route  toraed 
e.,  as  shown  on  p.  318.      Of  the  direct  road  thence  to  Owen  Sound,  no  report  is  given  for  the 
13  m.  between  Orangeville  and  Shelbume ;  but  for  the  23^  m.  thence  n.  w.  to  Flesherton,  C 
Langley,  of  Toronto,  supplies  the  following :    "  Fair  gravel,  with  sandy  stretches  for  5  m.,  then 
i^m.  of  rough  and  swampy  land;  11  m.  part  day  and  part  gravel,  slightly  rolling;  5  m.  to  F., 
fair  but  hilly,  the  last  2  m.  being  a  succession  of  '  steps.'    This  22  m.  affords  glorious  coasbag 
and  grandly  picturesque  views,  and  can  be  done  in  about  3  h.    Markdale  is  8  m.  n.  w.  (good 
gravel) ;  and  zo  m.  beyond  M.  is  Williamsford,  whence  my  route  coinddes  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.  55) :    "  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  Tbomhill ;  4  m.  fair  to 
Richmond  Hill ;  4  ip.  good  to  Sondes  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  liec 
I  m.  e.  of  main  road,  and  it  offers  two  good  routes  to  Lake  Simcoe.    That  through  H(d]and's 
Landing  and  Guillimbury  to  Cook's  Bay  is  a  good  one  ;  but  the  route  to  Roach's  Point,  i7m-t 
is  even  better ;  for,  though  apparently  hilly,  almost  all  the  hills  are  surmountable,  and  there  are 
some  fine  stretches  of  very  levd  road.    The  3  m.  run  from  Keswick  to  Roach's  Point  is  grand, 
being  at  all  tiroes  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  lake.     Branching  off  at  K.,  a  very  level  road  is 
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  n. 
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  u  "  level,  with  good 
stretches  of  gravd  interspersed  by  bad  patches  of  sand."    It  leaves  the  dty  by  the  Windiester 
St.  bridge,  and  runs  through  the  townships  of  Scarboro  and  Markham.    This  same  road  may  be 
met  by  turning  off  from  the  Kingston  road  at  the  Half-Way  House,  11  m.  e.  of  Toronto  (sn>* 
bsyond  Don  Bridge),  and  will  offer  macadam  for  3  m.  n.  to  Malvern.    *'  Thenoe  4  m.  n.  to 
Markham  is  a  mud  road.     The  next  9  m.,  to  Stouffville,  may  be  ridden  in  |  h.,  qpite  of  tiro 
steep  hills,  for  it  is  all  fine  gravel" 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


3«7 


Resaming  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  2x5  m.  by  H.  S.  Wood  (Staunton, 
Va^  to  Columbia,  Pa. ;  May  23-25,  '84) ;  and  I  have  not  yet  heard  of  any  one 
else  who  has  taken  a  similar  straightaway  spin  approximately  as  swift.  My 
o'vm  longest  three  days'  ride  was  177  m.  (the  last  part  of  the  250^^.  ride  just 
mentioned);  next  was  156m.,  Niagara  to  Erie;  Sept.  x6-i8,  '80  (see  pp. 
5C\  203) ;  and  third  was  iS5m.,  Lancaster,  Pa.,  to  Newark,  N.  J.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"),  13^;  13th,  Berlin  ("American"), 
29f;  14th,  Gait  («*  Queen's "),  i6i;  15th,  Toronto  ("Rossin"),  79};  i6th, 
Pickering,  32I ;  17th,  Cobourg  ("Ariington  "),  49^ ;  i8th,  Belleville  ("  Dafoc"), 
44J ;  19th,  Kingston  ("  Windsor  "),  48! ;  20th,  Gananoque  ("  International "), 
24l ;  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  mios 
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  ao 
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  rots 
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  bccr»  at  11 
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  240 
A.  VL.  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  bj 
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  wideawake  and  Americaa-Gkc 
than  any  other  Canadian  city ;  and  from  the  fine  ootlook  which  I  had  of  it  on  the  tower  d  the 
Metropolitan  Methodist  Church,  it  seemed  to  ofEer  shelter  to  much  more  than  its  actual  popob- 
tion  of  90,00a    The  massive  and  substantial  architecture  of  its  University  alao  impressed  me 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO.  319 

more  pleaaantly  than  any  nnular  ■troctare  in  the  United  States  has  ever  done,  though  I  have, 
widun  the  bwt  doien  jrears,  looked  upon  all  of  oar  chief  coU^ate  buildbgs.  Several  of  the 
local  riders  aooooipaiued  me  about  the  dty,  and  that  oue  of  them  who  escorted  me  out  of  it,  late 
in  die  aftcniooiit  was  the  same  who  had  served  as  pilot  for  the  Chicago  tourists,  three  months 
before.  His  reoommended  route  for  Guelph  ("  C  W.  A.  Guide,"  p.  53)  is  4  m.  shorter  than 
mine,— Che  differences  being  shown  by  the  folkywii^  summary  :  "At  Cooksville,  16  m.  w.  (rf  T., 
torn  n.  for  Brampton,  9  m.  of  clay  (good  in  dry  weather;  unridable  after  a  rain) ;  then  6  m.  w. 
to  Norval,  stiff  day ;  4  m.  w.  to  Georgetown,  clay,  good  only  in  dry  weather;  17  m.  to  Bristd 
Arms,  good  gravd ;  8  m.  a.  w.  to  Guelph,  fine  gravd,  and  fine  coasting,  on  long,  easy  grades." 
His  portrait  appeared  in  the  CmuuUom  IVkteimoM,  a  few  days  after  I  met  him,  and  the  ap- 
pended editorial  said :  "  Without  ever  having  seen  a  real  bicyde,  but  only  engravings  thereof, 
he  des^ied  a  wooden  machine,  and  on  one  occasion  rode  it  from  Aylmer  to  Strathroy,  50  m.,  in 
a  day.  Afterwanls,  he  covered  the  same  50  m.  in  6  h.,  on  an  iron  bicycle  of  his  own  maldng,  in 
wfaidi  Ae  bent  barrel  of  an  old  gun  served  for  a  backbone."  As  a  reward  of  two  years*  per- 
■ittent  oomdng,  he  has  at  last  prepared  for  me  the  following  biography  :  "  Perry  £.  Doolittle 
(b.  ICaidi  aa,  1861),  M.  D.,  surgeon  of  Toronto  B.  C,  residence  :  337  Front  st.  £.  I  now  ride 
a  54-indi  InTiadble,  but  began  on  a  home-made  48  in..  May  30, 1S78.  My  mileage  to  date  (Oct. 
6,  'Ss)  is  11,750,  divided  by  years  as  follows :  '7^*  >>3<>o  i  '79*  >>35o;  '8o>  2,000 ;  *8i,  1,650;  '8a, 
1,500;  'Qs,  z,roo;  '84,  1,300;  '85,  750.  I  made  one  run  of  35  m.  without  dismount  (Aug.  10, 
'79;  Stxadizoy  to  London),  in  3  h.  5  min.,  and  another  (July  38,  '83 ;  Kingston  to  Napanee),  in 
a  h.  40  nun.  My  first  race  was  at  Sl  Thomas,  May  34,  '81 ;  and  before  I  retired  from  the  path, 
in  the  antnmn  of  '84, 1  took  part  in  53  contests,  and  won  38  first,  9  second  and  3  third  prizes.  I 
held  the  Canadian  5  m.  diampionship  in  '8i-'83  and  the  Toronto  B.  C.  championship  in  *83-'84. 
AH  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 
later,  in  company  with  Harry  Ryrie,  a  lieutenant  in  the  dub,  he  made  a  day's  run  of  117  m.  to 
Belleville,  over  the  same  route  which  I  had  spent  three  days  in  covering.  I  believe  that  Mr. 
Hepittstall  and  myself  were  the  only  two  men  who  had  previously  wheeled  across  as  mudi  as 
too  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  t^  a  /a«r  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  lea^ng  from  Toronto 
are  poor,  and  our  ronte  was  one  of  the  worst,  being  mostly  unridable  for  4  m.,  on  account  ci 
atones  and  ruta.  We  kept  the  sidewalk  for  3  m.,  and  then  walked  and  rode  by  turns  in  the 
dasfcness  nndl  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^  iol  The  latter  stretch  was  poor  and  very  hilly.  Halting  20  min.  for  lunch,  we  went  9  m.  in 
i|  h.  to  Bowmansville,  43  m.,  at  10.45,— the  ^nt  3  m.  and  last  3  m.  bdng  good,  and  the  rest 
being  rather  sandy,  though  ridable  at  the  ed^^es.  Thence  on  good  gravel  to  Newcastle,  48  m., 
at  ii.xa  (fine  coast  down  the  hill  on  entering  the  town),  and  Newton ville,  53  m.  Beyond  here, 
a  m.,  is  a  good  hill  for  coasting,  but  the  opposite  grade  must  be  walked  up ;  then,  after  7  m. 
more  of  smooth  surface,  a  sharp  turn  a.  is  made  at  Welcome,  and  the  road  is  stony  and  rutty 
tors  m.  to  Port  Hope,  65  m.  We  reached  here  at  3.05,  after  \  h.  stop  for  dinner  at  a  farm- 
house, and  we  qient  another  \  h.  lookii^;  for  luggage  at  the  railway  station.  Level  and  good 
road  to  Cobourg,  7a  m.  at  s.ao ;  and  to  a  point  5  m.  beyond  where  we  halted  \  h.  for  tea. 
Grafton,  80  m.,  was  left  behind  at  4.47,  and  Colborne,  88  m.,  was  readied  at  6.05— darkness 
having  set  in  when  we  were  about  midway  between  those  two  places,  or  at  a  point  to  which  we 
night  have  ridden  without  dismount  from  Port  Hope.  After  30  min.  rest  at  C,  we  went  on  to 
Brighton,  9S  m.  at  7.50,  and  halted  40  m.  for  a  good  wash  and  hearty  supper.  Reaching  Tren- 
ton, tos  m.,  at  10,  we  were  met  by  some  Belleville  bkryders,  and  resumed  the  journey  under 
dMir  eaoort,  so  min.  later,— finialiing  at  Belleville,  117  m.,  just  on  the  stroke  of  midnight" 


320 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


The  prindpai  wheeling  in  the  second  annual  tour  under  the  anspioes  of  the  Chicago  B.  C  was 
along  this  tame  road,  July  16-19,  '84 ;  and  from  President  Bates's  report  thereof  {Outrng^  Mi^v 
'8Sp  pp.  195-201),  I  extract  the  following  :  "  Our  route  lay  along  the  n.  shore  of  Lake  OBtavio 
for  141  m.,  through  a  beautiful  and  thiddy-settled  country,  with  numerous  pretty  vilbges^  Tke 
streams  made  frequent  hills  for  coasting ;  and  often  a  glimpse,  and  sometimes  a  broad  expanse, 
of  the  blue  and  sul-dotted  waters  of  the  lake  lent  a  charm  to  the  landscape.  First  day,  Tofoaio  10 
Whitby,  28  m.,  9.20  to  2  ;  thence  at  4.30  to  Newcastle,  17  m.,— or  45  m.  in  5I  h.  of  tiding.  SeO" 
ond  day,  to  Brighton,  45  m.,  9.35  A.  m.  to  7.40  p.  h.  ;  riding  time,  6  h., — the  loi^cat  stop  heos 
at  Cobourg,  from  12.30  to  4.  Third  day,  to  Napanee,  46  m.,  9.3s  a.  h.  to  6.15  p.  m.  ;  riifaic 
time,  4  h.  25  min., — ^the  final  24  m.  from  Belleville  being  covered  in  just  a  h.  of  continaoas  rid- 
ing. Thus  far  the  roads  had  been  generally  good,  with  some  admirable  strecdftes.  But  now  wc 
were  to  ride  over  the  best  road  of  the  whole  trip,  from  Napanee  to  Kingston,  95  m.  Thou^  nar- 
row, it  is  as  smooth  and  fine  as  the  most  noted  road  near  Boston.  We  left  N.  at  t^yavA  anmd 
at  K.  at  ii.3o,--ridii%  tune,  2  h.  10  min."  There  is  an  evident  contradictioii  here(peflaps 
caused  by  a  printer's  blunder  in  changing  the  time  of  arrival  from  "  i3.ao  ")  t  wi,  as  to  the 
previous  days'  records,  it  may  be  presumed  that  they  repaieaent  the  pace  of  the  swiftest  riden; 
for  the  party  numbered  no  less  than  57,  and  it  is  haxdly  probable  that  the  straggling  "  rear 
guard  "  kept  up  any  such  pace  as  12  m.  per  h.  The  WhnVa  report  says,  however  :  *'  The  ran 
of  22  m.,  from  Cobouig  to  Belleville  was  made  in  2  h.,  the  last  12  m.  being  covered  witfam  i  h., 
which,  considering  that  the  party  numbered  60,  was  a  most  creditable  performance.  Saturday's 
short  run,  from  Napanee  to  Kingston^  32  m. ,  was  made  in  about  3  h.  Fine  weather  was  die  nde 
of  the  tour.  The  wind  was  at  nearly  all  times  on  the  quarter,  and  helped  rather  than  retaided 
progress."  Two  months  later  (Sept.  26,  '84),  four  members  of  the  Toronto  B.  C  rode  in  the 
opposite  direction,  Kingston  to  Napanee,  without  dismount.  The  time  was  a  h.  35  nun.,  but 
they  had  the  wind  against  them.  These  riders  were  A.  F.  Webster  (Capt.),  N.  R.  Butcher 
(Sec),  W.  H.  C:ox  and  W.  H.  West. 

The  same  road  also  supplied  the  central  two  days'  riding  in  the  third  annual  tonr  of  die 
same  numagement  (called  the  "  Big  Four,"  because  its  four  divisions,  of  25  men  each,  were 
commanded  by  representatives  of  four  big  cities :  Chio^,  Boston,  Bu&Io  and  New  York), 
whose  first  two  days,  Bti£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  {JVht»l^  Jnly  17,  *85), 
b  less  rose-colored  than  the  one  I  have  quoted  from  President  Bates,  concerning  the  same  locality, 
as  will  appear  from  the  following  excerpts :  "  There  is  nothing  in  Onada,  or  at  least  the  portioDs 
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  toming  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,  m  favor  of  a  country  where 
we  ooul^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  b  imposaSile  to 
set  a  pace  that  will  prove  sattisfactory  to  so  large  a  party,  k  was,  in  fact,  generally  eith^  a  race 
pr  a  funeral.  Each  division  seemed  to  vie  with  the  (Mher  in  doing  the  staff  up  when  it  was  in  the 
lead.  As  regards  quality,  the  Canadbn  roads  were  a  great  disappointment  over  those  of  bst 
year.  When  the  tourists  mounted  at  Coboui^g,  Jnly  9,  they  were  in  hig^  glee  because  of  the 
assurance  that  before  them  lay  a  stretch  of  too  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  hiU  that  foived  a 
number  to  dismount,  and  then  came  a  stretch  of  soft  sand,  followed  by  a  mile  of  loose  stones  of 
assorted  sixes,  and  then  a  stretdi  of  niU,  and  so  on  throughout  roost  of  the  day's  tide.  The  dls> 
appointment  was  intense,  and  words  unprintable  were  thought  and  loudly  uttered.  The  tomiilf 
who  went  over  this  route  last  year  said  that  the  roads  were  then  good,  and  rsocmt  rain  oinst 
h#ve  spoiled  them.  That  may  be  true,  but  it  b  hard  to  believe.  The  last  is  m.  to  Belfevilie 
was  very  good  and  the  dbtance  was  covered  in  50  min.  The  day's  record  was  43I  m.  in  4  h.  5s 
mm.  of  actual  riding.  After  an  aU  night's  rain,  the  roods  were  very  muddy,  bat  Napanee  was 
reached  without  inddent.    While  uking  dinner  there,  a  sudden  shower  thorooghly  dreucbed  Ae 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO.  321 

\  before  they  oodd  be  got  under  cover.  The  ndn  cootiimed  when  the  joamey  was  re- 
,  through  the  mud,  over  roods  even  wone  than  those  of  the  previous  day ;  and  another 
heavy  shower,  when  we  were  about  half-way  to  Kingston,  completely  broke  up  tho  line.  After 
cfaat,  it  was  simply  a  straggling  race  for  the  finish,  each  man  for  himself;  and  every  one 
baeathed  a  prayer  of  thankfulness  when  Kingston  was  finally  reached." 

On  this  same  rainy  day  and  same  muddy  course  was  run  the  fvst  long  straightaway  race  at- 
tytnptfd  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  CamadioM  IVkgdman^  who  deserves  much 
credit  lor  their  comj^eteness.    The  distance  from  Cobooig  to  Kingston  being  only  95  m.,  a  flag- 
■un  was  stationed  i\  m.  from  the  start,  on  a  wide  and  gnasy  port  of  the  road  which  gave  ample 
sfmoe  ior  the  raceis  to  turn ;  and  they  took  a  preliminary  drcoit  around  him,  so  as  to  make  their 
foil  ooone  100  m.    Owii^  to  numerous  uncompleted  attempts  to  repair  the  highway,  the  fi/st  25 
no.  of  it,  mostly  up-hill,  was  in  very  bad  shape ;  while  the  25  m.  section  of  it  between  Belleville 
and  Napanee  was  in  frightful  condition  because  of  the  rains  which  had  fallen  in  floods,  in  ad- 
■vanoa  of  the  racers,  forcing  them  literally  to  ride  in  running  water.    At  about  10  a.  m.  of  July  10, 
tlicae  six  men,  out  of  the  dosen  entries,  came  to  the  scratch  in  front  of  the  Arlington  :  CoU  £. 
Sione,  St.  Louis,  58-in.  Rudge ;  L.  D.  Munger,  Detroit,  54-in.  Apollo  Light  Roadster ;  Geoige 
IVeber,  SmithviUe,  Star;  F.  W.  Westervelt,  Springfieki,  ss^n.  Victor;  H.  D.  Corey,  Boston, 
SS-in.  Rodge;  N.  H.  Van  Sickkn,  Chicago,  56.in.  Columbia  Light  Roadster.    During  the 
days  just  preceding,  Stone  had  been  over  the  road  three  times  (making  the  45  m.,  Cobouig  to 
Bdleville,  in  3  h.  26min.,  July  8),  and  Corey  had  been  to  Belleville  and  back,  while  Weber  irav- 
cfsed  the  route  before  joining  the  tour  at  Buffalo ;  bat  Munger,  ViTestervelt  and  Van  Sicklen 
had  dung  to  the  main  body  of  the  tourists,  and  knew  practically  nothing  of  the  road  ahead  of 
Mr.  Evans  gave  the  word  '  go '  at  X0.0S,  and  the  four  leaders  rounded  the  flagman,  near 
,  in  this  order :    Stone,  Weber,  Westervelt,  Van  Sicklen,  with  Munger  and  Corey  \  m. 
About  \  m.  after  the  turn,  they  met  a  farm  wagon  with  two  horses  in  front,  and  a  mare 
and  a  colt  hitched  behind.    The  mare  saw  them  coming  and  commenced  to  prance  about  in  a 
nMst  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  off  and  ran  along  the 
aide  of  the  road  on  the  grass  for  a  hundred  yards  before  he  could  get  on  to  the  road  again.    Van 
ScUen  attempted  to  pass  on  the  edge  of  the  road,  but  as  he  got  abreast  of  the  horses  behind, 
tii0  lamn  gave  a  snort  of  terror,  and  backing  against  him,  shoved  him  off  into  the  ditch  where  he 
fpnnrled  ingloriously  and  damaged  his  wheel  so  badly  that  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw  from  the 
laea.    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  bq;an  the  long 
stretch  of  95  m.  straightaway  m  a  bunch.    Weber  lost  ground  a  little  but  managed  to  ding  to 
the  leaders,  who  cot  out  some  tough  running  for  the  next  5  m.    As  they  neared  Wicklow,  Weber 
foond  the  pace  too  hot  and  fell  back,  while  Stone  and  Westervelt  continued  their  mad  careers 
for  10  m.  farther,  when  the  latter  had  found  the  strain  too  much  for  him,  and,  striking  a  steep 
bin.  Stone  got  dear  away. 

"  Munger,  vrfao  had  been  plodding  steadily  along,  now  began  to  pick  op,  and,  as  they  neared 
Brighton,  he  saw  a  team  back  down  on  Weber  and  cause  him  to  take  a  genuine  header,  bend- 
ing the  handle-bars  and  twisting  the  backbone  of  his  machine.  Passing  the  unlucky  Star  man, 
who  decHned  his  help,  he  soon  passed  Westervelt  and  landed  in  Brighton,  28  m.  out,  at  12.05, 
just  5  min.  behind  Stone.  Westervelt  passed  at  12. 15,  and  Weber,  having  made  his  wheel  ridable, 
St  13.35.  At  Trenton,  Stone  was  told  that  Weber  was  just  behind  him,  and  this  caused  him  to 
strike  out  at  a  high  rate  of  speed  for  Belleville,  where  he  arrived  at  1.49,  having  made  the  is  m. 
in  a  little  leas  than  t  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 
having  taken  a  large  qoaatity  of  milk  and  several  raw  eggs,  he  presented  such  a  dilapidated  ap- 
21 


322  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

pearance  that  bystanders  offered  odds  of  s  to  i  that  be  would  be  unable  to  finisii.  Monger 
reached  the  hotel  at  min.  after  Stone ;  ate  a  hearty  meal  of  steak  and  potatoes,  well  gamisliii! 
with  liquids ;  was  nabbed  down ;  came  out ;  kicked  off  a  man's  hat,  and  Taialting  Botfly  ime 
the  saddle,  started  out  at  a  good  pace,  having  delayed  just  17  min.  Meantime  Westenrdt  hai 
arrived  at  a.aa  (50  m.  in  4  h.  14  min.),  stopped  i  min.  to  drink  a  bottle  of  ginger  ale,  and  alaned  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  a.  33,  exchanged  his  i 
wheel  for  a  new  one  that  was  waiting  for  him,  and  left  at  a.35.  At  Napanee,  where  he  was  a 
I  h.  behind  Munger,  he  mounted  his  racing  wheel,  waiting  for  him  in  chaine  of  C  H.  < 
ing,  who  served  as  a  pace-maker  for  10  m.,  while  Weber,  keeping  on,  airived  at  Kiagstoa  at 
7. 14I  p.  M.,  making  the  asl  m.  in  1  h.  45  min.,  a  total  of  9  h.  14^  min.  Stone  readied  Napaan 
at  4.08  (ao  min.  ahead  of  Munger),  and  was  coached  thenoe  to  Kingston  by  Undell  Gtadoo,  n 
ab«>t  a  h.,  finishing  at  6.36,  as  the  winner  of  the  race,  in  exactly  8  h.  38  min.  This  is  oidy  as 
min.  more  than  the  best  record  for  a  100  m.  road  race.  The  prize  is  a  circular  gold  medal  vakad 
at  $60.  Munger  was  coached  from  Belleville  to  Napanee  by  J.  W.  Vivian,  and  thence  to  Kinp- 
ton  by  Gideon  Haynes,  jr.,  who  once  brought  him  within  6  min.  of  Stone.  He  finished  at  7.08I, 
6  min.  ahead  of  Weber,  with  a  record  of  9  h.  8^  min.  During  the  race  Stooe  ate  nothii^  et 
cspt  raw  eggs,  while  all  the  rest  drank  sherry  and  egg,  ginger  ale,  milk  and  cold  tea  in  gnat 
quantities,  Weber  excelling  in  that  respect  The  '  incidents '  beaidea  those  already  mentioBcd 
were  a  header  taken  over  a  cow  by  Stone,  and  a  fearful  shake-up  lor  Munger,  who  ran  imo  a 
hoTK,  or  rather  the  horse  badced  into  him.  Forced  thus  to  make  a  beck  dismount,  and  lanfisg 
astride  the  badcbone  of  his  wheel,  he  was  'knocked  out'  for  the  qace  of  ten  »»«i«»v^  At 
for  Westervelt,  considering  that  this  was  his  first  long  race,  he  made  a  wonderful  ahowiqg  uA 
surprised  everybody.  Had  he  been  an  experienced  man,  and  known  just  how  to  take  cars  of 
himself,  there  is  little  doubt  but  he  would  have  shown  up  at  the  finish  nearer  the  frxnt." 

Some  previous  notable  rides  of  his  have  been  described  by  me  on  pp.  1 14,  182.  The  seooad 
man  ia  the  race  (who  is  captain  of  the  Detroit  B.  C,  aged  33  and  weighing  160  IbB.X  disCb- 
gulshed  himself,  three  weeks  later,  by  driving  the  same  bicyde  axi^  m.  in  34  h.,  b^inuay  at 
4  p.  M.  of  July  31.  The  rteds  around  Boston  supplied  the  course.  Butcher  cyclometer  kept  tbe 
record,  and  pace-makers  were  present  for  the  entire  distance.  The  BL  W^Hd  (Aqg.  7, 
p.  339)  recorded  the  expb>it  as  beyond  dispute.  As  the  tragic  death  of  Cola  E.  Stone  (k 
Feb.  a7,  ^63  ;  d.  Sept  a6,  '85)  will  serve  to  permanently  connect  his  name  with  the  remarkable 
100  m.  race  which  he  won,  I  present  here  the  brief  wheeling  biography  wfaidi  he  wrole  at  aij 
request,  July  39 :  "It  was  sometime  in  June  of  *8i  that  I  made  my  first  wild  and  "«*Tfi*W*''*«*y 
attempt  to  ride.  I  got  the  knack  in  aboiu  \  h.,  by  propping  the  wheel  up  with  a  fenoe-aS, 
dimbing  oa  and  then  throwing  the  rail  away.  The  date  of  my  first  mount  is  identical  with  doi 
of  my  first  road-ride.  It  was  n't  a  very  long  ride,— only  about  3  m.  on  the  road, — but  I  thmk  the 
trail  would  have  measured  17.  My  longest  straightaway  day's  ride,  except  in  the  recent  laor, 
was  from  St  Louis  to  Clarksville,  about  80  m.,  on  the  r.  r.  track,  through  the  counties  of  Si. 
Louis,  St  Charies,  Lincoln  and  Pike.  It  was  a  poor  r.  r.  track,  too ;  and  the  only  cow  we  n« 
all  day  was  lying  peacefully  in  the  middle  of  it  (though  there  were  about  137  cattle'igaards  to 
the  mile),  so  that  we  had  to  kick  her  to  make  her  get  up.  My  longest  tours  have  been  oalf  . 
Saturday-to-Monday  runs.  We  frequently  go  to  Manchester,  ao  m.,  without  dismountiag;  asd 
I  don't  remember  ever  staying  in  the  saddle  longer  than  that,  except  in  a  2$  ro.  race.  I  've  aewr 
kept  any  regular  account  of  milea^,  except  occasionally  for  a  month  or  two  at  a  Ume.  Ja4ginc 
from  that,  I  think  I  averaged  from  6,000  to  7,000  m.  a  year,  through  '8s,  '83  and  '84.  I  've  done 
a  great  deal  of  ri(Ung,  I  know,  because  I  wear  out,  on  an  average,  two  back  tires  and  one  frot 
tire  a  year,  and  I  always  have  to  get  a  new  set  of  bearings,  every  8  or  9  months ;  but  I  haves't 
the  slightest  idea  what  my  total  mileage  amounts  to.  My  weight,  when  stripped  for  radng,  ii 
i6s  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  00  a  dirt  or 
dnder  track  west  of  the  Hudson,  defeating  Weber,  in  a. 46I.  While  radng  at  Springfiekl,  Setitest- 
ber  8,  his  hand  was  broken  by  a  collision  and  fall,  in  the  last  hall  of  the  10th  m. ;  but  this  mis-    \ 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


323 


>  was  is  no  way  the  cause  of  his  sadden  death.  Resolutions  of  regret  for  this  sad  event  were 
I  by  the  cycling  dubs  <rf  the  city  and  printed  in  all  the  journals ;  and  they  bore  unmistak- 
:  evidence  of  their  writers'  sincerity.  This  may  be  shown  by  a  brief  extract  from  the  ex- 
tesxled  memorial  and  eulogy  given  in  a  St.  Louis  journal  {Tk*  Spectator,  Oct.  3),  in  connection 
-varith  his  portrait,  which  also  appeared  in  the  L.  A.  IV.  BulUiin  (Oct.  x6,  p.  376)  and  Spring-' 
JS^ld  Whtelmetft  GateiU,  The  eulogist  says  :  "  As  a  wheelman,  I  am  satisfied  that  he  had 
DO  living  equal.  He  was  good  for  long  distances  and  short  distances ;  he  was  great  on  rough 
roads  and  smooth  roads.  He  could  dimb  any  bill  that  a  horse  could  dimb,  and  he  could  ride 
hand»<iff  where  good  riders  were  fain  to  dismount.  He  was  the  foremost  member  and  special 
pride  of  his  dub.  His  mastery  over  the  wheel  was  absolute.  It  was,  under  his  feet»  a  perfectly 
xiatural  and  certain  mode  of  locomotion,  and  as  obedient  as  the  best  trained  horse.  There 
niever  was  a  man  more  absolutely  devoid  of  fear.  I  cannot  but  think  he  was  laboring  under  some 
naental  derangement  when  he  determined  on  the  rash  act  which  ended  his  life.  He  will  be  re- 
aaembered  with  keen  r^ret  while  the  present  generation  of  wheelmen  remember  anything.  *' 

"  Thy  leaf  has  perished  in  the  green  :  and  while  we  breathe  beneath  the  sun. 
The  worid,  which  credits  what  is  done,  is  cold  to  all  that  might  have  been.'* 

*'  Qerical  Wheelman's  Canadian  Tour,  6a i  m.,  Aug.  5-36,  1885,"  was  the  title  of  a  care- 
fuUy-compiled  little  paroplilet  (s4  pp.)  issued  at  Lancaster,  Pa.,  May  xs,  by  the  Rev.  Sylvanus 
Stall  (b.  Oct.  18,  1847),  a  cyding  enthusiast,  whose  executive  ability  as  a  practical  man-of-affairs 
bad  been  jirevioasly  shown  by  the  business-success  attending  the  publication  of  his  "  Lutheran 
Year  Book  "  (ed.  for  '85  has  196  pp.  and  sells  for  2$  c),  "  How  to  Pay  Church  Debts,"  and  other 
matter-ctf-fact  pieces  of  ministerial  literature.  An  itinerary  for  each  day  of  the  proposed  tour, 
with  nups,  mileage,  estimates  of  expenses,  and  other  exact  details,  filled  the  body  of  the 
pamphlet,  idiose  three  final  pages  contained  an  alphabetical  list  of  xao  "  derical  wheelmen," 
wnth  their  residences.  To  them  and  to  all  others  of  their  doth  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  in  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 drcttlar  of  June  15  said  "  the  final  number  of  those  agreeing  to  participate  will  not 
faO  far  short  of  40  or  50^"  In  fact,  however,  there  were  so  many  withdrawals  before  the  start 
that  the  real  number  was  redoced  to  so.  Nine  of  these  were  laymen  (for  the  plan  of  the  tour 
allowed  each  of  the  dexgy  to  invito  "  any  friend  for  whose  character  and  bearing  he  would  be- 
come personally  responsible  "),  but  only  5  of  the  whole  party  were  bachelors.  It  was,  therefore, 
a  dignified  collection  of  **  good  men,  weighing  "—on  the  average,  according  to  the  statistician — 
143  lbs.,  having  an  average  height  of  5  ft  9  in.,  and  an  average  age  of  33  years.  "  Daily  pray- 
en  were  promptly  established,  the  Sundays  wers  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  x8  days  of  delightful  companionship.  The  party  had  cov- 
ered more  than  500  m.,  and,  in  the  delightful  riding  between  Goderich  and  Kingston,  reached  the 
hS^b-water  mark  of  oomfort  and  pleasure.  It  was  a  longer  tour  than  had  ever  been  accomplished 
on  wheels  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 
Wheds"  :  Frank  LetU^s  Swtday  Magastne,  Nov.,  '85,  pp.  4S»-457)»  who  rode  a  tandem  tri- 
cyde  with  his  brother,  and,  as  a  longest  day's  journey,  made  50  m.  On  the  same  day  (Aug.  19) 
the  only  other  tricyder  in  the  party,  the  Rev.  C.  £.  Fessenden,  of  Summit  Hill,  Pa.,  accom- 
plished 70  m.,  as  did  also  Professor  C.  P.  Hoffman,  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 
r.  M.  at  Kingston.  The  96  m.  from  Cobourg  to  that  point  were  done  the  previous  day  by 
Elliot  Mason,  of  New  York,  George  Zeh,  of  Washington,  and  Louis  A.  Pope,  of  Warren,  R.  I. 
(the  latter  being  the  only  cleigyman  of  the  trio) ;  and  the  still  longer  ran  of  xos  m.  by  three 
Michigan  ministen  :  B.  J.  Holcombe,  of  Detroit,  J.  P.  Maveety,  of  Homer,  and  E.  P.  Johnson, 


324 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


of  Marshall.    The  last-named  sent  four  letters  descriptive  of  the  tour  to  the  Ckkit^  TrSbmm 
(reprinted  in  Marshall  StaUsnuui)^  and  I  reproduce  what  he  says  about  this  first  too  m.  atr^^ 
away  ride  engaged  in  by  any  American  represenutives  of  the  cloth  :   **  Starting  from  Port  Hope 
soon  after  5  a.  m.,  we  foimd  the  first  40  m.  so  discouragingly  poor  that  some  of  us  gave  iq>  te 
idea  of  a  '  century  run/  and  lazily  wasted  almost  3  h.  along  the  road,  resting  at  farm-honsa  «r 
under  the  trees.     Courage  and  ambition  were  both  mightDy  revived  by  the  fine  surface  e» 
countered  at  Trenton,  and  we  joyfully  wheeled  the  xa  m.  to  Belleville  in  x  h.,  reached  Napnee 
before  6  o*clock,  and  finally  Kingston.     H.'s  riding  time  was  10}  h.,  and  the  others  rode  sL 
longer.     Far  from  being  *  completely  used  up  next  day,'  we  only  felt  a  little  laxy  and  a  nile 
stiff  in  the  knees,  but  were  ready  to  walk  or  wheel  around  the  city  streets  as  we  chose.*'   Tke 
same  writer  properly  denounces  the  delay  and  trouble  which  the  Canadian  customs  people  cmed 
at  the  outset  of  the  tour  by  their  cast-iron  enforcement  of  Middle  Ages  "  regulatioos,  for  the 
repression  of  international  touring  " ;  and  he  praises  without  stint  the  universal  ho^itaJitj  shorn 
by  the  Canadian  people  not  of  the  customs,  who  arranged  fonnal  receptions  and  banqaels(k 
the  churches  and  town-halls)  at  Gait,  Woodstock,  Goderich,  Seafonh,  Mitchell,  Suatfafd  and 
elsewhere.    Rainy  weather  combined  with  the  customs  interference  to  force  the  tourists  {psiua 
than  disappoint  the  citizens  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;  bol 
the  Rev.   Mr.  Pope  kept  up  the  reputation  of  his  family  by  doing  the  whole  6a  m.  on  Isi 
wheel,  though  he  found  the  road  from   H.  to  G.  "conspicuously  wretched."     From  dxre, 
"  next  morning,  s.  and  e.  to  Paris,  then  \^  m.  due  w.  to  Princeton,  and  is  m.  to  Woodttock(a 
total  of  45  m. ,  on  account  of  a  mistaken  detour),  we  found  poor  roads.     From  W.  to  Ii^enol, 
on  the  forenoon  of  the  8th,  the  surface  was  so  much  better  that  a  few  covered  the  zo  ni.  is  ss 
min.,  and  most  of  the  others  within  x}  h.     Hilly,  rough,  stony  and  sandy,  by  turns,  were  the 
next  6  m.  to  Thamesford ;  and  the  following  10  m.  to  Dreaney's  Comers,  thou^  generallj  level, 
were  nearly  as  vile ;  but  the  final  stretch  thence  to  London  (9  m.)  was  mudi  better."    Rain  feB 
during  the  Sunday  while  the  party  baited  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  coindded 
with  my  own— the  second  Sunday  being  spent  in  Toronto,  and  the  go-as-you-please  rule  being 
adopted  from  there  to  Kingston,  in  order  that  those  who  wished  to  attempt  too  m.  in  a  day 
might  do  so  without  appearing  to  be  "racing  against  the  party."    Five  letters  about  the  toor 
were  written  for  the  Pittsburg  Despatch  by  the  Rev.  J.  F.  Cowan,  of  that  dty,  editor  of  the 
"  Methodist  Protestant  Year  Book,"  who  said  (Stratford,  Aug.  14  ):  "  So  far,  there  is  bat  one 
opinion  as  to  Canadian  roads.    They  have  been  greatly  overrated.     One  could  hardly  find  143 
m.  of  as  bad  continuous  riding  on  any  main  highway  in  N.  Y.,  N.  J.  or  Pa.    The  50  m.  fran 
Gait  to  Woodstock  is  simply  execrable  for  a  wheel ;  while  from  there  to  London,  the  rasd, 
though  having  a  hard  bottom  and  little  sand,  has  a  very  rough  and  stony  top."    The  magaxsK 
article,  before  alluded  to,  reflects  pleasantly  the  general  spirit  of  the  tour,  while  avoiding  ^ 
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  bicyde.     Like  a  tT« 
preacher,  he  uses  the  tour  as  a  text  for  demonstrating  that  there  is  nothing  undignified  or  in- 
clerical  or  unmanly  about  a  sort  of  pleasuring  which  gives  the  weary  worker  new  strength  asd 
vigor  for  fighting  the  battles  of  the  Church ;  and  his  sermon  is  good  enoc^  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  abort 
»5o  or  300  of  these  who  use  the  wheel,"  writes  Mr.  Stall  to  me  (Oct.  23,  '85),  "and  I  am  soic 
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  5  ft.  10  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  20-24,  '83)  was  thus  reported  to  me  by  L  B. 
Graves,  of  Minneapolis  :  "  I  rode  a  5a  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 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


325 


f  an  3I-fittlog  saddle.  Both  machines  stood  the  journey  admirably,  not  a  nut  or  qwke  coming 
MMe;  auad  neither  of  us  had  any  kind  of  trouble,  though  riding  (never  coasting)  some  very 
oogh  and  steep  hills.  The  roads  were  in  good  coactition,  and  no  rain  fell,  and  the  prevailing 
■iada  were  westerly.  McDonnell  cydometer  failed  about  half  in  its  registry,  and  so  we  de- 
fended on  local  information  for  distances.  K.  to  Napanee,  asm.,  3.45  to  7.45  p.  m.  ;  and  next 
kweuoon  to  Belleville,  25  m.  Third  day,  fought  against  a  head-wind  and  reached  Colbome, 
|0  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  a  p.  m.,  and  walked  about  a  m.  of  stony  and  hilly  surface 
before  leanung  that  I  'd  miased  the  road  for  BowmansvUle,  by  f<rf)owing  the  telephone  instead 
a<  telegraph  poles.  Reaching  the  Millbonk  road,  6  m.  out,  I  decided  not  to  turn  back,  but 
went  'cross  country  (10  or  la  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 
throogh,  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 
■t  a  p.  M.  of  a6th  I  took  steamer  across  the  lake  to  Lewiston  and  wheeled  thence  to  Niagara, 
7  m.  in  j^  h.  Surting  back  at  z.30  p.  M.  next  day,  I  reached  Lockport,  as  m.,  in  4  h.  About 
3  m.  from  N.,  on  the  Lewiston  road,  I  turned  r.,  and  thence  had  no  trouble,  as  the  course  is 
pcccty  direct.  It  leads  through  a  flat  and  uninteresting  country  of  a  sandy  character,  and  offers 
tather  uncomfortable  riding, — thoi^^h  I  presume  the  whole  dnuoce  might  be  done  without  dis- 
BMMmt."  Three  young  members  of  the  Belleville  B.  C.  (T.  G.  West,  W.  Greatrix  and  F. 
Maoowti)  rode  from  there  to  Kingston  in  6  h.  ending  at  4  p-  m.,  with  x  h.  at  Napanee  for  dinner 
(^ug.  3,  'S3)  ;  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  barracl^ 
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  Barryfield  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 
fest  halt  at  10  (81  m.  in  2 J  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,  and  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.  frooi 
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  cyclooi- 
eter  at  the  post-office  in  Brockville,  6  m.  in  ij^  h.    A  peculiarly  brilliant  day, 
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  Hot 
*'mine    road"  on  the  1.  would  also  have   brought   me  to  BrockviUe.    Its 
"Revere  House,"  opposite  the  post-office,  was  an  attractive-looking  hostelty; 
but,  as  I  wished  to  improve  the  departing  daylight,  I  turned  my  longring  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, 1  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  proper 
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 
BrockviUe),  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  BrockviUe,  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  1882,  but  were  thert 
forced  by  wet  weather  to  abandon  the  plan  of  reaching  Montreal     Despite  strenuous  endeavocs, 
we  hare  been  unaUe  to  find  any  one  who  has  ridden  from  P.  to  St.  Anne's,  70  m.,  wliicfa  is  die 
end  of  our  reported  route  from  Montreal,  34  m.     In  fact,  the  only  report  we  haiFC  been  able  to 
get  e.  of  Gananoque  is  the  general  one  in  the  sketch  prepared  for  us  by  Karl  Kran  (|^  8i-^> 
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  iaa 
within  his  own  knowledge,  that  the  next  40  m.  down  the  river  from  P.  to  Cornwall  were  as 
smooth  as  the  xa  m.  I  had  just  traversed;  and  that  he  believed  the  mafcadam  comtintted  thnn^ 
to  Montreal.    Approximate  truthfulness  on  the  part  of  my  inlormant  seems  shown  by  this  Uem 
in  the  Canadian   Wlutlman  (Oct,  '84),  "  Sandy  McCaw  wheeled  fram  Toronto  to  CoravaD. 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO.  3J7 

aboot  375   m.,  in  four  days,  last  immth,  doing  upwardsof  80  m.  oo  two  of  the  days;  and  he 
would  hmve  kept  on  to  Montreal  but  for  rain."    M.  is  aboat  65  m.  beyond  C,  and  so  m.  beyond 
Sc  Anne's,  which  is  the  point-of-beginnlng  of  the  river-route  iat  Quebec  presented  in  the  next 
pangraph.    This  I  condense  from  the  excellent  report  prepared  for  me  by  F.  M.  S.  Jenkins, 
rapfam  of  the  OtUwa  B.  C.  (/f'Atfir/ 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. 
Ouly  7«  '85>  4  A.  M.  to  3  P.  !!.)»  in  about  8  h.,  though  the  return  ride  could  be  done  in  6  h. ; 
and  I  offer  a  route  from  Brockyille  to  Otuwa  ("  C.  W.  A.  Guide,"  p.  61)  :  "  Between  BrockviHe 
and  Smith's  Falls,  30  m.,  is  a  mac  road,  out  of  repair  in  Sept.,  '83,  and  unsatisfactory  for  wheel- 
ing, hot  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,  i  m. ;  good  mac  to 
Birchtoo,- 1\  m. ;  to  blacksmith's  shop,  i)  m.  (detour  r.  to  bathing  beach  on  lake  shore) ;  to  Am- 
prior  road,  t  m. ;  toU-gate,  a}  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,  z\  m.,  where  stands 
RieJIy's  Hotel,  a  big  stone  boOding  which  offers  excellent  fare.    The  scenery  to  this  point  is 
the  finest, — making  a  pleasant  trip  of  s^  h.  on  light  up-grades,  and  the  return  requires  i)  h.  less. 
The  lahor  of  coveting  the  next  19  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,  4  m.,  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.  4  m.  along  car  tracks  to  Suspension  bridge  (fine 
view  of  Chaudiere  Falls) ;  s.  and  w.  \  m.  to  Hull ;  1. 1,  at  first  cor.  after  crossing  bridge;  next  t  r. 
aiid  keep  n.  w.  i  m.  mac  to  toil-gate ;  n.  5  m.  to  Ironsides,  where  is  an  iron  mine.    Beyond,  i  m., 
is  a  i  m.  hill  which  can  be  wheeled  up,  and  gives  magnificent  coast  on  return.    Chelsea  is  a  m. 
from  the  summit,  and  the  road  from  O.  to  C.  can  be  ridden  in  all  weathers, — often  in  i  h.   Scenery 
is  very  beautiful,  with  Ottawa  and  Gatineau  rivers  to  n.  e.  and  Laurentian  mts.  n.  and  n.  w.  GiU 
mour's  Park  b  worth  visiting  at  C.  and  the  mHls  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 
grand  sxnery."    The  tavorite  run  of  the  O.  B.   C.  is  to  Aylmer,  "  a  summer  resort  on  w. 
«hore  of  Lake  Deschene,  about  8  m.  of  mac  which  can  always  be  relied  on  for  z  h.  outward 
trip  (up-grade)  and  40  min.  homeward.    Turn  s.  w.  at  Hull ;  pass  Eddy's  factory ;  }  m.  beyond 
kwk  oot   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   \\  m.,  which  is  day,  good   when   dry, 
Bank  st.  s.  to  toll-gate,  }  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 
Bilfings  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  return.    O' Neil's 
Hotel  is  8  m.  s.,  and  Metcalfe  9  m.  beyond.     A  pace  of   7  m.  per  h.  can  easily  be  kept."    Ot- 
tawa to  Eastman  Springs:  "  Nicholas  st.  s.,  good  mac.  \  m.  to  canal  deep-cut ;  then  e.  \  m.  to 
the  Ridean  river  at  Hurdman's  bridge,  whose  ends  are  bad ;  s.  e.  ^  m.  to  r.  r.  crossing ;  s.  e.  i^  ro . 
to  ton-gate  at  Hawthorne ;  and  the  mac  ends  at  church  and  cemetery  \\  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.  f  m.  to  Rideau  hill,  and  a  bad  bridge  at 
bottom  over  Ridean  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  ro.  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,  14s  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 
Clarence,  25  m.,  that  evening;  next  to  Caledonia  Springs,  35  m. ;  third  forenoon  to  Hawkesburyr 


328  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

z5  m.,  whence  1  proceeded  alone  in  afternoon  to  Rigaud,  19  m.    Leaving  at  10  a.  m.  of  Tuo> 
day,  I  dined  and  spent  the  afternoon  at  St.  Anne's,  ai  m.,  and  rode  into  Montreal,  20  ra.,iB 
the  cool  of  the  evening,  taking  tea  *n  rouU  at  Lachine.    My  experience  was  a  very  pleasant  one, 
and  I  can  recommend  the  route  to  all  who  are  content  with  50  m.  a  day.     For  reoord  break- 
ers it  would  be  a  mistake.    The  great  drawback  is  that  the  road  bottom  is  blue  day,  and  a  link 
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  a£Eord.    Ottawa  to  St.  Joseph 
village,  10  m.,  good  mac. ;  two  hotels.     Macadam  ends,  in  a  m.,  and  there  u  4  m.  of  fair  day 
road  to  Cumberland;  two  hotels.    Thence  to  Clarence,  9  m.,  all  ridable;  i  m.  sandy,  rai 
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  Nalion  river 
is  sighted.    At  Plantagenet,  3  m.,  the  road  crosses  and  leaves  this  river,  and  for  5  m.  to  Alhtd 
(two  hotels)  is  too  sandy  for  wheeling.    The  road  changes  to  day  again,  \  m.  beyond  A.,  and 
gives  a  perfectly  level,  straight  stretch  for  10  m.    At  Alfred  Comers,  5  m.,  the  Grand  Hotel  ai 
Caledonia  Springs  can  be  seen,  i  m.  o£F  on  r.  t. ;  but  I  kept  straight  on,  under  the  sign  kA  the 
Ottawa  Hotel,  to  Cassbom  Comers,  6  m.  day  and  2  m.  sandy  loam,  all  ridable.    Of  the  t«o 
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  I.  at  the  Comers,  the  whednue 
will  enjoy  a  m.  good  mac.  to  L'Original,  whence,  to  Hawkesbury,  the  ride  is  a  charming  one 
9^ivt  good  gravel,  dose  to  the  river  bank.    Thtfre  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  Fortoae, 
la  m.,  there  is  ridable  sand  for  a  m.,  but  the  rest  is  too  stony  for  fast  riding.    A  few  m.  from  H. 
a  long  up*grade  is  encountered,  from  the  top  of  which  a  magnificent  view  of  the  Ottawa  Loog 
Soult  Rapids  is  obtainable.    A  market  steamer  for  Montreal  runs  three  times  a  week  from  Point 
Fortune.    A  very  good  day  road  extends  thence  to  Rigaud,  a  m.  (beautifully  situated  on  the 
Rigaud  river,  i^  m.  from  the  Ottawa),  and  its  two  French  hotels  o£Eer  better  acoommodatioo 
than  P.  F.     Of  the  18  m.  from  R.  to  Vaudreuil,  good  clay  prevails  for  7  m.,  and  the  rest  has 
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  pcr^)iriiis 
wheelman  has  but  to  lay  his  bike  a^inst  a  tree  to  enjoy  a  plunge  in  its  dear,  cod  vraters.    Cooio 
and  Hudson,  hamlets  passed  en  rffuU,  are  summer  resorts  of  many  Montrealers,  and  dianniof 
lake  shore  villas  abound.    After  so  many  m.  of  '  Bon  jour,  Monsieur,'  the  English-qicaking  tear- 
bt  will  feel  tempted  to  linger  here,  just  to  have  his  ears  tickled  by  tlic  dear  familiar  '  English 
as  she  is  spoke.'    Vaudreuil  is  on  the  line  of  the  Grand  Trunk  r.  r.  which  here  crosses  the  rircr 
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  laigc 
summer  hotel  on  the  water's  edge  at  St  Anne's.    Thence  the  road  runs  along  the  river  bank, 
and,  after  7  m.  rough  and  stony  day  to  Point  Qaire,  affords  excellent  mac  wheeling  for  13  m. 
to  Montreal.    The  outward  route  from  M.  is  Sherbrooke  st.  w.  i^  m. ;  Cote  Sl  Antoioe,  1 
m. ;  s.  2  m.  and  then  on  upper  Lachine  road,  a(  ra.  w.  to  Cote  St.  Luke ;  gradual  descent  and 
good  coasting  to  P.Jue  Bonnets,  i  m.  -,  Reilly's  Crossing,  i  m. ;  Lower  Lachine,  1  m.  j  Upper 
Lachine,  li  m. ;  river  bank  to  Dorval,  »\  m. ;  Valois,  a^  m. ;  Point  Claire,  a^  m. 

"  '  Montreal  to  Quebec '  has  not  yet  been  done  by  wheel.  As  I  had  heaid  that  the  road 
along  the  n.  shore  was  rough  and  sandy,  I  chose  the  s.  shore,  Uking  feny  to  Longneuil.  Frtrn 
L.  to  Boucherville,  5  m.,  the  road  is  a  rough  mac,  which  it  is  a  relief  to  exchange  for  the  mt 
fair  day  which  extends  from  B.  through  Varennes,  to  Vercheres,  16  m.  (which  has  a  good  French 
hotel,  with  ihe  unusual  luxury  of  a  bath-room,  and  a  market  steamer  mnning  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  go 
m.,— as  far  as  they  had  been,— so  sandy,  indeed,  as  to  be  difficult  with  horse  and  carriage.   Of 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


329 


ooaney  tbere  are  always  foot-path  and  grass  chances,  and  a  wheehoan,  with  plenty  of  time 
on  his  bands,  might  do  the  trip  Tery  well ;  but,  as  I  was  impatiently  looking  forward  to  Lower 
St.  Lawrence  wheeling,  and  was  restricted  as  to  time,  I  took  the  boat  at  S.  for  Quebec.    In 
writing  of  the  ride  below  tbere  I  find  my  enthusiasm  rising  to  a  degree  that  makes  it  difficult  to 
keep  within  practical  bounds.    The  stimulating  salt  air,  grand  scenery,  and  fishing  and  shooting 
<^>poortunities  the  route  offers,  render  this  360  m.  of  straightaway  riding  a  most  satisfactory  vaca- 
tioo  jaunt.    Such  easy  spinning  of  60  or  70  m.  a  day  would  seem  really  heavenly,  but  for  the 
prosaic  fact  that  fresh  meat  has  the  rarity  of  angels'  visits  in  this  French-Canadian  region.    Salt 
pork  abounds,  and  fish  can  be  procured ;  but  this  diet  wonH  give  a  wheelman  wings.     It  is  not  a 
reooni^reaking  diet.    I  have,  however,  discovered  possibilities  of  beefsteak  in  the  following  vil- 
lages, which  the  tourist  will  do  well  to  note  and  arrange  his  wheeling  hours  accordingly  :    Mont- 
magny,  L'lalet,  Rivi^  Quelle,  Kamouraska,  Notre  Dame  du  Portage,  and,  of  course,  Riviere 
du  Loup  (La  Rochelle  House),  which  b  a  railway  center,  and  Cacouna,  5  m.  beyond,  which  is  the 
chief  Canadian  summer  resort  (St.  Lawrence  Hall,  ^a.50;  Mansion  House,  $1.50).     I  had  fine 
riding  all  the  way  from  Quebec  to  C,  131  m.    Of  the  road  from  Cacouna  to  Trois  Pistoles,  30 
m.,  I  cannot  speak  fully,  though  I  went  several  m.  below  C,  and  found  it  passable  for  a  bicycle ; 
and  the  inhabitants  assured  me  it  preserved  the  same  character  the  rest  of  the  way.     It  is,  how- 
ever, quite  impassable  for  a  tricycle,  owing  to  high  grass  ridges  between  the  wheel  tracks ;  and, 
as  I  had  been  joined  by  a  tricycler  at  Rividre  du  Loup,  I  took  train  from  C.  to  Trois  Pistoles. 
This  is  a  refreshment  station  on  the  Intercolonial  Railway,  and  excellent  accommodation  can  be 
foond  at  the  restaurant.    There  is  a  good  beach  for  bathing  near  by.    Thence  to  Bic,  31m.,  the 
road  is  fair  clay  through  St  Simon  to  St.  Fabian  (no  hotels),  ao  m.,  then  changes  to  gravel,  and 
improves  with  every  m.  until  at  Bic,  it  is  nearly  x)erfect.    The  scenery  on  this  last  10  m.  is  very 
attractive.    From  Trois  Pistoles  the  road,  which  has  clung  to  the  shore  up  to  this  point,  takes  a 
more  inland  course.    After  leaving  St.  Fabian,  it  descends  into  a  beautiful  valley,  walled  in  on 
diher  side  by  lofty  mountains.    The  only  outlet  is  found  by  following  a  secretive  little  river  to 
where  it  joins  Bic  Bay,  and  this  the  road  does  to  good  purpose,  revealing  a  widening  prospect 
with  every  pedal-push,  until  the  bay  itself,  sentineled  by  woody  islands,  with  Bic  village  stretch- 
ing along  its  curving  shcHres,  and  beyond  the  almost  limitless  water-reach  of  old  St.  Lawrence, 
presents  a  scene  that  commands  the  attention  of  the  'most  prosaic.     Bic  is  a  popular  sea-side  re- 
sort.   Thence  to  Rimouski,  la  m.,  the  road  is  a  little  soft  for  3  m.,  to  where  Hatte  Bay,  a 
bathing  beach,  is  passed,  after  which  it  hardens  and  affords   most  satisfactory  wheeling. 
From  R,  (two  hotels)  the  road  is  fine  gravel,  and  runs  along  the  beach.    There  are  no  hills 
worth  mentioning,  and  tlie  wheelman  can  '  rush  '  with  impunity  for  26  m.     Father  Point  is 
passed  4  m.  from  R.     In  summer,  this  is  the  point  df  reception  and  despatch  for  the  Canadian 
Trans-Atlantic  mail  service.    Mails  are  conveyed  thus  far  by  rail,  and  are  here  shipped  by  tender 
to  passing  steamers.    The  wharf  is  of  extraordinary  length  and  ridable  from  end  to  end.    St 
Lace  (no  hotel)  is  6  m.  further,  and  St.  Flavie  (poor  hotel),  10  m.  beyond.    At  St.  F.  the  old 
government  '  Mctapcdiac  *  road  is  found  running  inland  to  New  Brunswick  with  tempting  direct- 
ness, the  s^-board  reading  'izo  m.  to  Campbellton.'     Leaving  St.  F.,  the  road  continues 
micfaangcd  in  character  for  6  m.,  when  it  leaves  the  beach  for  higher  ground,  and  is  hilly  for  4 
m.  to  Grand  Metis  (two  hotels).    The  Metis  affords  good  fishing,  and  the  falls,  about  i|  m.  up 
the  river,  are  well  worth  a  visit.    From  G.  M.  to  Little  Metis,  7  m.,  is  principally  beach  road 
again,  and  affords  delightful  wheeling.     L.  M.  is  a  summer  resort  and  either  one  of  the  two  large 
hotels  (Tariff  Hall  and  Astor  House)  will  be  found  satisfactory.     From  L.  M.  to  Matane,  26  m., 
the  road  continues  a  beach  one,  of  such  excellent  quality  that  I  covered  it  in  s  h.  10  min.    The 
villages  offer  but  scant  accommodation,  and  it  is  better  not  to  depend  on  them.   Two  little  rivers, 
the  Tartijoux  and  Blanche,  are  crossed.    The  latter  has  an  attractive  fall  a  short  distance  from 
the  road.     At  Matane,  the  hotel  kept  by  Mr.  Fraser,  the  Norwegian  vice-consul,  will  be  found 
atisfactory.     M.   is  literally  the  get-off  place  on  this  route.     So  I  got  off,  and  made  it  the 
terminus  of  my  tour.    The  road  is  said  to  struggle  on  for  a  few  parishes  further,  and  is  then  lost 
in  the  mountains.    Good  Jbathing  and  fishing  are  the  recreations  offered  by  the  village,  which  is 
refreshingly  isolated,  30  n).  from  the  nearest  r.  r.    It  might  make  the  finish  of  a  fine  straighta- 


330 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


way  century,  starting  from  Trois  Pistoles ;  for  there  are  70  m.  of  beautiful  wlieeKng,  and  the 
other  30  are  by  no  means  bad.  The  4  or  5  unridable  hills  are  steep  rather  than  long,  and  woold 
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  commeod  ;  for, 
besides  the  scenic  attractions  which  I  've  only  hinted  at,  it  has  a  peculiar  social  iolerest,  in  that 
it  introduces  the  wheelman  to  a  region  where  the  old  Feudal  System  still  exists.  Thoi^h  laodK- 
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  I  'm 
ab-eady  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  Riviftre  du 
Loup,  122  m.  in  24  h.,  Aug.  x,  '85.'*  In  Aug.,  '83,  H.  Roy,  above  named,  "  took  the  n.  shore 
from  Quebec  to  Montraorenci  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  si 
shore  and  continued  on  to  Cacouna,  finding  everything  delightful,  '  except  the  ham  and  eggs, 
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) ;  ^\  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  JoK,  good 
level  loam  and  gravel ;  fair  then  for  9  m.  to  St.  Roch,  and  9  m.  touSt  Anne ;  ridable  but  difficuh 
clay  thence  to  Rividre  Quelle ;  then  hilly  but  good  for  12  m.  to  Kamouraska ;  clay  and  loam  to 
St.  Andre,  9  m. ;  loam  and  gravel  to  Notre  Dame  du  Portage,  8  m.;  gravel  to  Riviere  dn  Locq),  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  is  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  n>*>  "  »  always  ridable  and  none  the  worse  for  a  considerable  Tain.** 
Good  mac.  also  stretches  n.  w.  from  Q.  to  Charlesbouig,  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  alter  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,  day  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  dub,  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  coostitii* 
tion  and  by-laws  of  the  Assodation  (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.  thidk 
and  weighs  3  ox.     It  is  mailed  for  50  c.  by  H.  B.  Donly,  SecreUry  of  the  Canadian  Wheelmen's 


A  FORTNIGHT  IN  ONTARIO. 


ZZ^ 


Association  (whose  members  receive  it  free),  and  was  printed  at  the  office  of  the  Nor/oik  R4- 
/4nrmgr,  Simcoe,  Ont.,  of  which  journal  he  is  an  editor.    Official,  historical  and  statistical  matters 
cover  nearly  50  pp.,  mostly  at  the  opening  of  the  book ;  "  recoounended  hotels  "  in  88  towns 
arranged  alphabetically  are  named  on  p.  70;  following  this  is  a  valuable  list  of  the  34  bicycle 
dubs  <x»npo6tng  the  Association,  a  total  of  more  than  500  names,  covering  9  pp. ;  and  the  next  1 1 
pp.  are  devoted  to  "  extended  tours,"  including  my  own  e3q>enences  in  Ontario,  Nova  Sootia 
and  Prince   Edward  Island.    The  "  road-reports "  proper  reach  from  p.  34  to  p.  69  (about 
i4,oc»  words),  and  are  "  classified  under  certain  central-towns,  named  in  the  following  order : 
St.  Thomas,  London,  St.  Mary's,  Goderich,  Port  Elgin,  Woodstock,  Brantford,  Simcoe,  Hamil- 
ton, Guelph,  Toronto,  Belleville,  Ottawa,  Montreal,  Quebec"    Statistics  as  to  population, 
hotels,  repair-shops,  local  clubs,  riding  restrictions,  and  the  like,  are  given  for  each  of  these 
IS  obiective  points;  and  "  the  wheelman  on  an  extended  tour  will  have  no  difficulty  in  tracing 
routes  from  one  point  to  another."    As  the  name  and  address  of  the  man  reporting  each  route 
are  printed  with  it,  the  tourist  knows  where  to  apply  when  he  wishes  for  fuller  details  than  the 
book  contains;  and  no  one  worthy  of  the  name  of  tourist  should  presume  to  enter  Canada  with- 
out first  purchasing  a  copy  of  it  to  carry  in  his  pocket.    The  editors  ask  indulgence  for  the 
*'  many  defects  and  shortcomings  necessarily  attaching  to  a  compilation,  made  without  model, 
from  widely-scattered  soiurces,"  and  express  the  hope  to  "  improve  upon  it  in  future  annual 
issues,  until  the  book  includes  every  highway,  town  and  village  in  the  Dominion."    The  second 
edition,  however,  will  not  really  appear  until  '86;  and  it  will  doubtless  be  supplied  with  an  index- 
of-towns,  for  the  absence  of  such  index  is  the  most  serious  defect  of  the  first.    The  editors  of 
the  "  C.  W.  A.  Guide  "also  issued  a  10  c.  map  of  Ontario,  in  '84,  which  "  met  the  hearty  praise 
of  the  members  of  the  Association  "  among  whom  the  entire  edition  was  distributed  in  the 
sprii^  of  *85,  except  about  50  of  the  800  copies.    Designed  by  Mr.  Elakins,  and  lithographed  by 
Alexander,  Qare  &  Cable,  of  Toronto  (31  by  19  in.,  aom.  to  i  in.),  the  map  gives  the  guide's 
reported  routes  in  red,  and  the  county  lines  in  black,  but  makes  no  attempt  to  show  the  mount- 
ains, rivers,  and  railroads,  or  the  quality  of  the  routes  laid  down.    Nevertheless,  it  is  a  most 
useful  supplement  to  the  guide's  statistics;  and  a  similar  chart  for  the  Province  of  Quebec  will 
doubtless  be  issued  with  the  '86  edition  of  the  book,  which  is  promised  for  the  opening  of  the 
riding  season.    The  940  copies  of  the  first  edition  have  all  been  disposed  of ;  and  it  is  possible 
that  the  new  book  may  have  maps  directly  attached  to  it,  but  cut  into  smaller  sections  for  con- 
venience.  As  r^ards  other  maps,  the  Canadian  P.  O.  Dep't  issues  none  of  value  to  wheelmen  ; 
the  Coltons  (182  William  St.,  N.  Y.)  publish  three,  27  by  18  in.,  at  75  c  each :  the  first  showing 
Ontario,  with  adjacent  parts  of  P.  Q.  and  U.  S. ;  the  second,  Quebec  and  New  Brunswick,  with 
a  plan  of  Manitoba;  the  third,  Nova  Scotia,  Cape  Breton,  Pr.  Ed.  Id.,  Magdelen  Is.,  with  New 
Brunswick  and  parts  of  P.  Q.  and  U.  S.    They  also  issue  Joseph  Boudiette's  map  of  the 
Dominion  (mounted,  $20),  which  includes  New  England,  New  York  and  other  parts  of  U.  S., 
with  separate  plans  of  environs  of  Montreal,  Niagara  and  Lake  Superior,  and  the  British  N.  A. 
Possessions.    A  railroad  map  of  Ontario  and  New  York  (1874,  23  by  16  in.,  ao  m.  to  1  in.,  60  c.) 
is  published  by  G.  H.  Adams  &  Son,  59  Beekman  St.,  N.  Y. 

The  routes  of  the  guide,  as  already  noted,  are  given  in  a  general  w.  to  e.  order,  similar  to 
my  own  passage  through  the  Province ;  and  I  now  present  roost  of  those  not  previously  quoted, 
"^  page-references  to  the  connecting  points  on  my  route.  Port  Stanley,  with  picturesque 
scenery,  on  Lake  Erie  (Fraser  House,  summer  resort,  on  the  blufip),  is  9  m.  s.  of  St.  Thomas  (p. 
3u)»and  is  reached  by  a  "fairly  good  gravel  road,  slightly  stony,  passing  through  Union." 
Talbot  sL,  e.  za  m.  from  St.  T.  to  Aylmer  (through  Yarmouth  Center,  New  Sarum  and  Orwell), 
is  "  good  gravel,  though  very  hilly  '* ;  and  a  fairly  good  road,  of  gravel  and  sand,  branches  thence 
to  the  lake  shore  at  Port  Burwell,  17  m.,  through  Mt.  Salem  and  Grovesend.  (Route  from  A. 
to  Simcoe  and  Hamilton,  84  m.,  given  on  p.  33a.)  A  direct  s.  w.  route  of  62  m.  from  London 
(p*  31a)  to  Chatham  leads  through  Richmond  and  Locke  sts.  to  Westminster,  4  m. ;  Lambeth,  3 
m- ;  Delaware,  6  m.  (two  heavy  hills) ;  Longwood  road  to  Melbourne,  9  m.  (big  hills) ;  Strath- 
^'^'nt*  9  m. ;  Waidsville,  5  m. ;  Thamesville,  16  m.  (sandy  and  almost  unridable),  where  take  w. 
ade  of  river ;  Chatham,  1 1  m.  (clay,  good  in  dry  weather ;  unridable  after  a  rain).    The  first  36 


332  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

m.  from  L.  is  good  gravel ;  and  a  fairly  ridable  road  extends  from  C.  a.  5  m.  to  Charing  C 
and  so  to  Buckhorn,  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,  and  opposite  Port  Huron,  Mich.)  is  a  beautif tzi 
gravel  road  of  63  m.,  very  level,  except  a  few  hills  near  Warwick,  which  is  4  m.  n.  w.  of  ^X^ax- 
ford,  which  is  36  m.  w.  of  L.  A  fair  but  rather  hilly  route  extends  from  W.  {  m.  e.  and  then  t\ 
m.  8.  along  the  Navoo  road  to  Alvinston,  whence  a  ridable  road  extends  to  Thamesville,  35  m., 
on  the  Chatham  route.  From  Watford  to  Forrest,  "  Uke  iSth  side  road  n.  10  m.,  ^r  gnvel  ; 
then  w.  on  6th  concession  ;  then  5  side  lines  (clay  and  gravel,  good  only  when  dry) ;  then  n.  1  ns. 
to  F. ,  and  splendid  wheeling  beyond  it  to  Stony  Point  and  Kettle  Point  on  Lake  Huron."  Frocn 
Watford  to  Ailsa  Craig  (which  is  5  m.  s.  w.  of  Clandeboye,  p.  313),  "  take  the  i8th  side  road  w. 
\\  m.  and  then  London  road  e.  15  m.  to  old  toU-gate ;  then  n.  13  m.  to  A.  C.  Neariy  all  gravel 
and  fine  wheeling,  on  which  the  rain  has  little  or  no  bad  e£Fect  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  3I  m.  s.  of  the  Watford  road.  Good  gravel  extends  from  S.  to 
Delaware,  la  m. ;  and  n.  w.  from  S.  to  Forrest,  aS  m.,  through  Ryckman's  Comers,  Adelaide 
and  Arkona :  but  rain  soon  spoils  this  n.  w.  route.  From  L.  n.  e.  through  Thomdale  to  St 
Mary's,  24  m.,  the  surface  is  mostly  gravel,  of  varying  goodness ;  thence  n.  18  m.  to  Mitchell  (p. 
314)  it  is  good  gravel,  passing  through  Mclntyre's  Comers,  3  m.,  and  Fullerton,  9  m.  beyond. 
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,  12  m.  to 
Stratford  (p.  317)  is  a  hard  gravel  road,  hilly  and  rough  for  the  first  3  m.,  the  rest  gently  rolfing 
and  very  good, — Conroy  p.  o.  being  half  way.  St.  Mary's  s.  24  m.to  Ingersoll  (p.  324) :  "  Blans- 
hard  gravel  road,  hilly  and  poor,  2  m.  c.  to  Medina,  where  t,  s.  to  Nissouri  gravel  road,  or  loth 
concession,  to  Kintore,  zo  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  ra.  s.  w.,  "  fine 
for  2}  m. ;  series  of  hills  for  i  m. ;  splendid  lcv2l  stretch  for  a  m. ;  remainder  broken,  and  so 
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  ao  m.  frem 
Clinton  is  through  Londsboro,  6  m.,  hard  gravel ;  Blythe,  5  m. ;  Belgrave,  4  m.;  to  Wingham, 
5  m.  A  turn  to  1.  around  a  long  but  ridable  hill  is  made  2  m.  n.  of  L.,  and  then  a  slight  t.  r. ; 
hills  must  also  be  climbsd  at  Blythe  and  Belgrave,  and  the  roads  there  are  not  very  good.  Lock- 
now  (p.  315)  is  12  m.  w.  of  W.,  on  county  side  line  road,  part  sand,  part  gravel,  and  very  hiUy. 
Simcoe,  the  home  of  the  chief  compiler  of  the  guide,  is  just  half-way  along  the  84  m.  route 
from  Aylmer  (p.  331)  to  Hamilton  (p.  324),  and  8  m.  from  Lake  Erie  at  Port  Dover.  It  has  a 
good  hotel,  the  Battersby,  and  the  ride  to  the  lake  may  bs  easily  taken  in  z  h.,  along  a  pleasant 
road  which  the  rain  improves.  The  route  to  Aylmer  b  along  the  Talbot  road  w.  to  the  r.  r 
crossing,  a  level  ran  of  z  m.  on  hard  gravel;  then  fair  side-paths  to  Atherton,  7  m.,  and  Delhi, 
4  m.,  except  that  the  last  a  m.,  ending  with  a  hill,  is  mostly  unridable.  Beyond  D.  the  rtad  is 
magnificent :  8  m.  to  Courtland,  then  a  7  m.  level  to  Doyle's  Hotel,  then  3J  m.  clay  to  Stafford- 
ville,  3  m.  clay  to  Richmond,  7  m.  good  gravel  to  Aylmer.  The  e.  trip  of  42  m.  from  S.  to  HamlU 
ton  is,  on  the  whole,  a  good  one,  passing  through  grand  scenery,  especially  near  H. ;  and  it  may 
be  done  in  5  h.  Take  Talbot  st.  e.  zo  m.  to  Murphy's  Comers,  day  and  sand ;  z  m.  n  to  tura, 
hard  clay ;  \  m.  c.  to  Jarvis ;  then  first  class  run  on  old  stage  road  n.  e.  to  Hagersville,  6  m. ; 
fair  clay  to  Caledonia,  9  m. ;  loam  and  day,  very  stony,  rolling,  to  Mt.  Hope,  7  m. ;  fair  day  to 
Ryckman's  Corners,  3  m. ;  then  4  m.  on  gently  rolling  clay  loam  to  Mountain  View  Hotel,  over- 
looking Hamilton,— to  which  descend  through  John  st.  The  road  from  Delhi  through  Hawtrey 
to  Norwich,  z2  m.,  is  called  hilly,  sandy  and  mostly  unridable.  Good  side-path  riding  may  be 
had  from  Simcoe  to  Vittoria,  8  m. ,  a  summer  resort  3  m.  from  Lake  Erie,  and  to  Port  Ryerse. 
The  n.  and  e.  road  of  8  m.  from  S.  to  Waterford  rfiay  be  done  in  40  rain. ;  and  the  Codcshatt 
gravel  road  thence  n.  e.  through  Boston  and  Bealton  to  Brantford,  Z7  m.  (p.  3Z4),  is  called  veiy 
\3AX.  The  n.  route  of  28  m.  from  S.  to  Paris  (p.  3Z7)  offers  fine  gravel  or  else  ridable  dde-palhs 
thus :  "  Round  Plains,  7  m. ;  Scotland,  7  m. ;  Bishop's  Gate,  7  m. ;  Pelton's  Comer8»  4  m. 
By  going  w.  one  concession  at  Scotland,  hills  near  Bishop's  Gate  may  be  avoided." 


XXIV. 

THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO   NATURAL   BRIDGE.^ 

Kingston,  at  the  foot  of  Lake  Ontario,  is  distant  in  a  bee  line  only  175  m. 
from  Hamilton,  at  the  head  of  it;  and  "  the  Lake  of  the  Thousand  Islands," 
which  begins  there,  forms  in  fact  the  uppermost  section  of  the  River  St.  Law- 
rence, and  may  be  considered  as  terminating  at  Brockvillc,  50  m.  n.  c.  of  K. 
This  picturesque  and  romantic  archipelago  comprises  more  than  i,Soo  islands 
and  islets,  of  which  the  largest  by  far  is  Wolf  Island  (15  m.  long),  directly 
opposite  Kingston.  On  the  New  York  shore,  i  m.  s.  e.  of  the  island,  is  Cape 
Vincent,  the  terminus  of  a  r.  r.  from  Watertown,  20  m.  s.  c.;  and  the  wheel- 
ing between  those  places  is  said  to  be  good.  Alexandria  Bay,  a  famous  sum- 
mer resort,  is  25  m.  n.  e.  of  Cape  Vincent,  on  the  same  shore ;  and  I  believe 
the  shore  route  thither  has  been  found  fairly  ridable  by  the  bicycle,  as  well  as 
the  direct  road  of  30  m.  from  Watertown.  I  presume,  in  fact,  that  little 
trouble  would  be  had  in  pushing  along  the  New  York  shore  for  another  20  m., 
to  Morristown,  whence  a  steam  ferry-boat  crosses  the  river  every  ^  h.  to 
Brockville.  Gananoque  is  about  15  m.  w.  of  Alexandria  Bay;  and,  during 
the  summer  season,  the  numerous  steamers  which  ply  among  the  islands  give 
ready  connection  between  all  the  ports  I  have  named.  They  may  be  reached 
also  by  the  through  boats  from  Montreal  and  Quebec,  on  the  n.  e.,  and  Os- 
wego, Rochester  ( Charlotte),  Niagara  and  Toronto  on  the  s.  w. 

The  previous  chapter  has  made  plain  why  Kingston  is  the  natural  termi- 
nal-point in  the  wheeling  of  any  tourist  who  starts  from  Western  Ontario  to 
visit  the  Thousand  Islands;  and  it  has  also  recorded  the  fact  (pp.  325-326) 
that  I  myself  not  only  did  not  stop  there  but  continued  down  the  river  for  a 
dozen  miles  below  Brockville,  where  the  last  of  the  islands  were  left  behind, — 
finishing  thus  at  Prescott,  on  the  night  of  October  21, 1883,  a  fortnight's  straight- 
away run  of  635  m.,  which  began  at  Windsor,  opposite  Detroit,  on  the  morning 
of  the  8th.  The  bitterly  cold  air  which  prevailed  at  daybreak  on  the  22d,  when 
I  took  the  first  boat  across  to  Ogdensburg,  perhaps  kept  the  customs  inspector 
from  the  dock.  At  all  events,  I  mounted  there  without  challenge  and  wheeled 
up  to  the  Seymour  House,  J  m., — though  that  was  nearly  six  months  before 
my  "  Bermuda  case  "  caused  the  United  States  to  relax  its  restrictions  against 
bicycle  touring,  which  were  even  more  vexatious  and  absurd  than  those  by 
which  the  Dominion  authorities  still  seek  to  prevent  Yankee  wheelmen  from 
spending  their  vacations,  and  vacation-money,  in  Canada.  A  good  breakfast 
seemed  specially  refreshing,  after  the  scanty  fare  of  the  previous  day ;  and, 

*  The  fint  part  of  thk  is  from  Tha  Spri$tgfi4td  Whidwuift  GoMtiU,  December,  1885. 


334 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


having  answered  my  letters,  I  mounted  at  9,  and  rode  in  i^  h.  to  Heuveltoiv 
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  h.)  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  §omerville.  Then  2  m. 
of  poor  plodding  brought  me  to  a  point  offering  three  routes  to  A.,  of  whidi 
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  the  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  ^i 
(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  wc 
took  the  second  1. 1.  about  \\  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  juniping  down  from  an  apple  tree  upon  a  board 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  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  Mannsville,  to  a  water-trough 
at  a  fork,  where  we  turned  r.  (the  1.  route)  through  Laconia,  was  said  to  be 
less  sandy),  and  were  }  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  10.4a  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  I  I  gave  her  a  manufacturer's  address  from  which 
she  might  procure  a  price  caUlogue;  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,  *"d  the  next  one  in  20  min.  Goodish  riding  soon  brought 
me  to  Cicero,  with  its  undassical  cheese-factory,  and  its  plank  road,  along 
which  I  jogged  without  stop,  through  Centerville,  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,  3I  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 
3,  at  2  p.  M.  (after  halting  at  the  house  of  a  friend  nine  days,  during  which 
there  was  much  bad  weather  ending  in  a  snow  storm  which  left  the  roads  de- 
plorably muddy),  by  taking  the  1.  sidewalk  of  Genesee  st.  at  the  park  and       — 


336  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  OJV  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  1}  m.  apart,  but  I  covered  the  next  ij  m.  in  25  min.  and  found  a  good 
sidewalk  then  for  }  m.  to  Fayettcr,  where  1 1.  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  U,  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.  I 
found  this  at  last,  near  a  r.  r.  crossing,  and  tramped  along  a  ridge  where  good 
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  1. 1. 
along  the  lake,--floundering  through  a  terribly  muddy  stretch  overhung  with 
trees,  and  so  reached  the  shelter  of  the  Stanton  House  in  Cazenovia,  at  8^ 
o'clock,  just  as  the  rain  drops  began  to  patter  down.  The  next  morning  was 
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  2I  h..  end- 
ing at  6.30  o'clock.  This  was  much  the  shortest  day's  journey  of  my  tour, 
and  I  walked  the  last  4  m.  in  the  dark,  except  that  the  faint  moonlight 
tempted  me  to  mount  once  or  twice,  towards  the  end.  I  had  spent  the  early 
part  of  the  day  in  the  experiment  of  fitting  rawhide  bearings  to  my  front 
axle ;  and  as  these  had  not  been  given  time  to  dry,  the  wheel  turned  hard. 
The  rawhide  washer  inserted  in  steering  head  quickly  worked  loose ;  and  I 
threw  it  away,  two  days  later,  as  an  impracticable  device.* 


*  Tlie  President  of  the  Caienovi*  B.  C,  S6v*re  Dorfon,  a  druggist,  invited  me  to  his  «ore, 
as  a  proper  place  for  patting  my  bicycle  in  order,  and  assured  me  that,  in  dry  weather,  he  had 
taken  the  ao  m.  run  to  Syracuse  in  2I  h.,  and  that  S.  riders  had  ridden  to  C  as  quickly.  He 
bad  also  made  the  run  from  West  Woodstock  to  C,  with  the  help  of  the  wind,  in  {  h.,  tboogh 
the  grades  are  easier  in  the  other  direction,  as  I  took  them,— the  "  w.  road  "  being  preferable  id 
each  case  to  the  route  which  is  a  little  more  direct.  He  gave  me  the  following  outline  of  a  day^ 
run  of  104  m.,  which  had  been  taken  by  the  Captain  of  his  dub,  Charles  P.  Knowlton,  in  Octo> 
ber  :  "  Starting  at  5.30  a.  m.,  he  took  a  6  m.  circuit  in  Casenovia,  and  then  rode  12  m.  for 
breakfast  at  Chittenango,  a  rise  of  963  ft.  Camstota,  Oneida,  Rome  and  Utica  were  socoes-, 
sively  passed,  and  he  took  dinner  at  a  house  6  m.  beyond  New  York  Mills,  with  a  record  of  61  m. 
Thence  he  retraced  his  course  to  Chittenango,  43  m.,  at  9  p.  m."  This  ride  suggests  a  deurabk 
variation  in  my  own  route  between  the  Thousand  Islands  and  Cazenovia ;  and  I  recomtBCnd 
any  tourist  between  those  points  to  aim  for  Trenton  Falls  when  he  leaves  Watertown ;  and  then, 
after  reaching  Rome  by  route  given  on  p.  210,  to  follow  this  other  route  to  C  For  the  sake  of 
comparison  with  my  own  ride  given  on  p.  337,  I  may  as  well  add  to  this  note  that  H.  C  Hif* 
gins,  of  Cindnnatus,  told  me  he  rode  thence,  through  Taylor,  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  to 
South  Otselic  and  back,  about  ax  m.,  in  a}  h.,  including  a  stop  of  \  h.  Mr.  Roowhon  also  r^ 
ports  good  riding  from  Cindnnatus  across  to  Norwich,  and  thence  s.  w.  along  the  Iroe  of  the 
river  and  canal,  through  Greene,  to  Chenango  Forks. 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE.    337 

West  Woodstock  was  still  in  sight,  next  morning,  after  I  had  got  to  the 
top  of  a  long  hill  2  m.  beyond  it ;  and  Shed's  Comers,  I  m.  on,  was  reached 
in  I  h.  from  the  start.  For  6  m.  further,  the  road  continued  to  wind  among 
smooth  and  sterile  hills  to  Georgetown,  a  sizable  village  at  the  end  of  the 
Otselic  Valley.  The  stretch  of  loam  below  G.  was  said  to  be  "sand- 
papered "  in  summer ;  but  the  snow  storm  of  four  days  before  (whereof  white 
patches  still  lingered  on  the  hill-tops)  had  turned  it  into  a  slough  of  black 
mud,  through  which  I  toiled  for  about  2  m.,  without  a  bit  of  riding,  to  a  cross- 
roads school-house,  where  1.  or  r.  may  be  taken  to  North  Otselic.  Taking 
the  r.,  I  reached  the  p.  o.  of  that  name  (13  m.  and  4}  h.  from  the  start)  at 
12.30,  and  munched  some  apples  for  \  h.,  in  lack  of  anything  better,  without 
crossing  the  bridge  to  the  village  on  1.  At  the  next  fork  I  went  up-hill  to  r., 
then  1. 1.  under  bridge  of  abandoned  r.  r.,  if  m.  An  equal  distance  beyond  is 
a  fork  by  a  grave-yard,  where  either  road  may  be  taken,  but  I  chose  the  1., 
because  leveler,  and  had  bits  of  riding  for  3  m.  to  South  Otselic,  where  stands 
a  sizable  new  hotel.  North  Pitcher,  3  m.,  was  reached  in  i  h.  and  South 
Pitcher,  4  m.,  also  in  x  h.,  about  half  the  latter  stretch  being  ridable.  I 
probably  walked  20  m.  of  the  27  which  I  traversed  that  day  (9J  h.),  though  all 
would  be  ridable  in  summer,  except  a  few  of  the  hills.  My  next  day's  ride  of 
28^  m.  seemed  wonderfully  swift  in  contrast,  for  though  I  gave  8  h.  to  it,  my 
numerous  rests  amounted  to  nearly  3  h. ;  and  the  surface  kept  improving  as 
I  advanced.  Mounting  at  8.30,  1 1. 1.  ^  m.  out,  and  then  t.  r.  down  the  valley 
to  Cincinnatus,  3  m.,  where  I  am  told  that  the  leveler  road  on  r.  bank  of 
river  is  the  better  one  in  dry  weather,  but  that  I  had  best  continue  on  the 
I.  to  avoid  the  mud.  At  the  top  of  a  long  hill,  3  m.  below  (nearly  all  ridden) 
I  had  a  beautiful  view  of  the  sunlit  valley ;  and  fine  views  were  before  me  as 

1  rode  down  hill  for  i  m.,  and  then  }  m.  to  the  hotel  at  Willet.  Indeed, 
there  was  good  scenery  all  the  way  to  Upper  Lisle  (6  m.  in  \  h.),  whose  little 
hotel  supplied  me  with  a  really  excellent  dinner  for  25  c, — though  its  fare 
would  probably  be  found  less  sumptuous  on  any  other  day  than  that  of  the 
State  election.  About  2  m..  on,  at  the  top  of  a  }  m.  hill,  I  had  another  fine 
view  to  n.;  and  then  descended  for  i|  m.,  except  one  short  up-grade,  which 
would  usually  be  ridable.  The  bridge  leading  to  Whitney's  Point,  was  5  m. 
below  Upper  Lisle ;  but,  instead  of  crossing  it,  I  kept  on  for  perhaps  4  m.  to  the 
next  bridge,  over  a  branch  of  the  river,  beyond  which  the  road  winds  along  a 
shelf  of  rock,  undulating,  but  with  general  smoothness  of  surface,  past  a  saw- 
mill and  fall.  From  this  point  to  the  little  "  temperance  hotel "  beyond  the 
bridge  at  Chenango  Forks  (ij  m.),  where  I  stopped  at  5  P.  m.,  I  was  sprinkled 
upon  slightly ;  and  a  heavy  rain  then  continued  far  into  the  night.  The  next 
morning  was  damp,  but  the  wind  favored  me,  and,  finally,  the  sun.    The  first 

2  m.  required  \  h.  and  brought  me  to  the  top  of  a  high  hill  having  a  fine 
view,— also  an  adv.  board  "  9  m.  to  Binghamton."  Descending  for  \  m.,  I 
1. 1.  for  \  m.  (instead  of  keeping  straight  on,  as  would  have  been  better),  and, 
at  10  o'clock,  having  crossed  the  bridge  below  the  r.  r.  bridge  {%\  m.),  I  struck 


338  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  first  sand  seen  in  about  loo  m. ;  but  the  side-paths  proved  generaJly 
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  Binghamton  (11  m.  in  2^  h.  from  Che- 
nango Forks).    What  with  letter-writing,  chatting  with  local  riders,  buying  a 
new  pair  of  shoes  (see  pp.  308,  21S),  and  getting  dinner,  2\  h.  slipped  away 
before  I  resumed  the  saddle.    I  rode  i  m.  to  the  bridge  and  i  m.  beyond ; 
then  walked  nearly  i  m.,  including  a  long  hill  (for  the  road  was  nearly  as 
rutty  as  I  had  found  it  in  the  dry  season  of  '80 ;  see  p.  206) ;  t.  r.  with  the 
river  in  i  m.at  the  fork  where  stands  the  4  m.  plank;  and,  finally,  at  the 
bridge  where  stands  the  5  m.  plank  and  where  darkness  overtook  me  in  "80^ 
my  real  riding  o(  the  day   began.     An  excellent  gravel    surface  stretches 
thence  for  9^  m.  to  the  post-office  in  Great  Bend,  the  first  town  across  the 
Pennsylvania  line ;  and  I  seemed  to  myself  to  be  going  very  fast  when  I  got 
over  it  in  i^  h.    My  only  stop  was  made  for  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.    At 
the  fork,  i^  m.  on,  I  walked  up-hill  to  r.  and  had  a  fine  view  backward  of 
G.  B.     The  descent  on  wheel  was  rather  ticklish  in  the  gathering  dusk;  and 
though  the  next  7  m.  would  have  offered  fair  wheeling  in  the  day  time,  and 
though  I  was  tempted  occasionally  to   mount   in  the  frosty   moonlight,  I 
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.  r.  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,  he  pulled 
out  his  watch  and  said  with  an  insolent  swagger :  "  Tables  are  cleared  at  7.50. 
If  you  want  any  supper,  you  must  come  down  now."    This  was  not  exactly  an 
alluring  sort  of  "  hospitality  "  for  a  traveler  to  have  thrust  upon  him,  as  a 
sequel  to  a  tiresome  day's  journey  of  35  m., — which  had  left  him  wet  with 
perspiration,  in  spite  of  the  frx)sty  night  air, — and  so  I  picked  up  my  roll  of 
luggage  and  said  I  would  take  my  chance  of  shelter  at  some  other  hotel, 
where  it  might  be  allowable  to  properly  wash  and  dress  myself  as  a  prelim- 
inary to  eating.    As  I  re-entered  the  hotel  office,  and  put  on  my  jacket,  which 
I  had  thrown  upon  the  heater  to  dry,  and  ordered  my  bicycle  to  be  brought 
out  of  the  cloak-room,  the  loungers  about  the  place  pricked  up  their  ears  to 
know  what  the  trouble  might  be ;  and  one  of  the  proprietors  appeared  on  the 
scene,  with  apologies  for  the  rudeness  which  had  been  offered.     Being  a 
wheelman  himself,  he  wished  to  smooth  the  matter  over  by  the  promise  of  a 


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,  without  refer- 
ence to  any  kitchen  girl's  rule  as  to  "  clearing  the  tables  at  7.30."  The  lect- 
ure on  the  value  of  civility  which  that  hotel  clerk  received  from  his  employer, 
after  my  withdrawal,  was,  I  trust,  sanctified  to  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  to  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 
hill  (nearly  i  m.)  which  offers  a  fine  view  of  the  town.  This  start  was  at  840 
o'clock,  and  I  was  14  h.  in  covering  the  39  m.  stretching  thence  over  the 
mountains  to  the  Allen  House  in  Honesdale.  It  was  just  noon  when  I 
crossed  the  r.  r.  track  at  Thompson  station,  9  m.  from  S.,  riding  down  a  steep 
hill  whose  water-courses  made  it  dangerous ;  but,  as  dinner  was  not  quite 
ready  at  the  Jefferson  House,  a  neat-looking  little  hostelry,  I  jogged  along  to 
Hinds  Comers  p.  o.  (5  m.  in  if  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  up-grades,  which  were  pretty  continuous.  At  Belmont 
(6  m.  in  2  h.)>  which  consists  of  two  private  houses  at  a  cross-roads,  I  turned 
1.  and  rode  down  hill  \  m.  to  the  tanneries.  Before  beginning  the  descent 
towards  B.,  a  fine  view  was  had  of  the  country  for  many  m.  on  every  side ; 
and  there  were  numerous  ridable  stretches  of  red  clay  and  black  loam,  though 
I  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  15  c.  a  plate,"  in  front  of  the  local  book-store, 
tempted  me  to  stop  ^  h.  A  flock  of  admiring  school-children  collected  around 
that  literary  emporium,  to  see  me  eat  and  then  resume  the  saddle,  I  soon  t. 
r.  down  fell  j  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  i)  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,  (3J  m.) 
I  ventured  to  ride  i  J  m.  to  Aldenville.  Several  short  stretches  of  deep  sand 
were  met  with  between  there  and  Prompton,  4J  m.  j  then,  after  one  rather 
sandy  hill,  I  found  good  going  for  nearly  2  m.  to  the  wretched  little  road- 
house  where,  after  much  urging,  I  secured  some  chocolate  and  eggs  for  sup- 
per. I  was  nearly  i  h.  in  walking  the  7\  m.  thence  to  the  hotel  in  Honesdale, 
— and,  as  the  mist  threatened  to  change  into  rain,  I  assumed  my  jacket,  for 
the  first  time  since  morning.  I  kept  it  on,  the  next  morning,  however,  for 
when  I  mounted  at  9.50,  after  getting  information  about  roads  from  a  local 
wheelman  employed  in  a  coal-ofiSce  adjacent  to  the  tow-path,  the  mist  had 


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  x  h. 
in  fitting  a  wagon-spoke  to  the  head.  In  the  next  2  h.,  ending  at  4  o'clock,  I 
rode  5i  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 
on  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  b^an  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  Banyville,  4  m.  on,  where  I 
also  bought  a  strip  of  oil-cloth  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  roe  to  the  Delaware  House,  in  Port 
Jervis,  at  7.15  P.  M.^ 

*  Pages  304,  305  may  be  tnnsulted  f or  scenic  details  of  this  rainy  afternoon's  ride,  during 
which  I  completed  "  the  first  American  bicycle  trail  of  x.ooo  m.  straJghtavray."  Nearly  aE 
the  40  m.  traversed  that  day,  through  mist  and  rain  and  mud,  would  offer  pleasant  wheding 
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  Newbuig  :  "  Cuddebackville,  9  m.  n.  e., 
b  reached  by  the  excellent  Huguenot  road,  and  Otisville  is  from  4  to  6  m.  beyond,>-4ialf  the 
distance  requiring  to  be  walked,  on  account  of  a  steep  hill.  Other  such  hills  give  trouble  be- 
fore reaching  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  Ieads*Salong  the 
r.  r.  12  m.  to  Newburg."  A  ride  from  Scranton  to  Honesdale,  30  m.,  was  taken  Sept.  17, 
*8i,  2  to  5  p.  M.,  by  F.  C.  Hand  (who  reported  it  in  BL  Worlds  Oct.  ai,  p.  289)  and  three 
Wilkesbarre  riders;  and  the  party  next  day  proceeded  to  Port  Jerris,  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  rain. 
•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."  The 
monotony  of  life  in  that  wild  region  has  so  few  interruptions  that  the  menaory  of  "  the  bkyde 
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  fay 
the  sudden  tightening  up  of  a  tug-rope,  which  he  had  ridden  across  as  incautiously  as  I  mjFseli 
Details  have  been  sent  to  me  as  follows,  by  A.  J.  Kolp  (b.  1849),  ex-captain  of  Scranton  E  C, 
about  the  routes  leading  from  that  dty :  "  N.  e.  road  good  to  Carbondale,  x6  m.;  then  6  m.  over 
mountain  to  Waymart,  half  unridable  and  the  rest  rough  and  dangerous  (better  take  car  of 
gravity  r.  r.,  C.  to  W.);  next  10  m.  fair  to  bad,  to  Honesdale.    The  n.-ronte,  from  S.  toBiog^ 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE.    341 

My  ride  through  the  snow  squalls  of  November  12,  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  1880,  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  jpy  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, 
bat  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, 3J  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,  3)  m.  in  \  h.,  against  a  bitter  gale  of  wind, 
along  a  gravel  track  with  many  turnings,  but  all  ridable  and  some  stretches 
excellent.  Trochsville,  a  brick  tavern  where  five  roads  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 
first  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  a  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- 

hamtoQ,  57  m-  (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,  Glenwood, 
New  Milford  and  Great  Bend.  The  e.  road  from  S.  is  good  but  up.hjll  for  6  m.  to  Green- 
ville; and  thence  unridable  to  the  Water  Gap,  57  m.  The  s.  road  from  S.  is  fair,  through  Tay- 
bnrille  to  Piltston  Junction,  9  m.,  thence  very  good  to  Wilkesbarre  (p.  aao),  on  either  side 
the  river,  the  e.  route  being  7  m.,  and  the  w.  route,  9  ra.  As  for  personal  statistics,  I  rode 
about  f  ,000  m.  each  in  '80,  '81  and  '82,  and  1,358  m.  in  '83.  My  wheel  is  a  52  in.,  and  I  do  not 
ttte  it  in  going  to  buuness." 


342  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

burg.  Mauch  Chunk  may  be  reached  by  going  up  the  tow-path  3  m.  from  W.; 
and  the  canal  which  begins  there  follows  the  Lehigh  down  to  Allentown  aod 
Easton,  and  then  the  Delaware  to  Trenton.  A  canal  reaches  from  T.  to 
New  Brunswick  (p.  167)  and  also  from  Easton  to  Jersey  City  (p.  173).  Mv 
afternoon's  ride  led  along  one  of  the  slopes  of  the  Mahoning  Valley  (p.  302), 
and  my  longest  stay  in  the  saddle  was  3^  m.,  beginning  at  Pleasant  Cornell, 
a  cross-roads  tavern,  5  m.  from  my  dining-place.  1 1.  r.,  away  from  the  val- 
ley, 2\  m.  beyond  this  point  of  dismounting;  and,  after  another  4  m.,  mr 
course  wound  among  the  mountains  until  Tamaqua  was  reached  at  7  o'clock 
(p.  299).  My  first  forced  dismount,  next  morning,  was  at  a  hill  leading  up  to 
the  forlorn  little  mining  village  of  Tuscarora,  4  m.;  thence  to  the  bridge  lead- 
ing 1.  to  Middleport,  4^  m. ;  New  Philadelphia,  2  m. ;  then  without  stop  for 
4}  m.  to  hill  beyond  Port  Carbon ;  and  so  to  the  post  office  in  Pottsviile, 
1}  m.,  at  noon.  Starting  i^  h.  later,  I  followed  the  main  street,  passing  the 
Henry  Clay  statue  on  hill  top  to  r.,  to  Mt.  Carbon  station,  below  which  I 
crossed  bridge  and  t.  r.  down  the  river  until  a  hill  forced  a  lialt.  Instead  of 
going  then  through  Schuylkill  Haven,  on  an  excellent  road  of  rotten  rock 
which  avoids  the  hills  of  Orwigsburg,  I  left  S.  H.  on  my  r.,  and  climbed  a  lonr, 
rough  hill,  and  then,  in  3  m.,  was  forced  to  dismount  by  the  hill  at  O.  (which 
boasts  a  new  and  good-looking  hotel  called  the  Arcadian).  Just  i  m.  beyond 
here,  I  reached  the  top  of  the  second  long  hill  of  red  clay  w^hich  had  to  be 
walked ;  and,  at  the  foot  of  the  next  hill,  \  m.  further,  I  reached  the  place 
where  I  should  have  come  out  if  1  had  taken  the  proper  road  through  S.  H. 
Some  2  m.  beyond  here  is  a  fork,  where  I  should  have  1. 1.  with  the  telegraph 
poles  across  a  covered  bridge ;  but  so  smooth  was  this  stretch  of  road  (made 
of  rotten  rock  or  black  gravel,  ground  to  whiteness  by  the  traffic)  that  I  kept  on 
to  the  r.  without  noticing  it.  Returning  }  m.  to  the  bridge,  when  I  discovered 
my  mistake,  I  walked  up  a  long  grade  to  a  pine-covered  hill-top  where  stood 
a  stone  "  23  m.  to  Reading  " ;  and  then  rode  i  m.  down  a  hill  of  brilliantly  red 
clay.  Beyond  here  was  a  waterfall,  from  which  I  walked  i^  m.  to  Ihe  Center 
Hotel  in  Port  Clinton,  at  6^ — though  I  should  have  ridden  except  for  the 
darkness.  This  road  winds  among  the  mountains,  with  river  on  1.,  through 
a  wild  and  rugged  region,  and  would  offer  very  pleasant  wheeling  by  daylight. 
My  afternoon  ride  had  been  along  the  edge  of  a  valley,  with  a  rolling  surface 
spread  far  out  to  the  n.  and  e. 

An  up-grade  road,  along  a  shelf  of  the  mountain-side,  overlooking  the 
raver  and  canal  on  r.,  was  ridden  by  me,  on  the  morning  of  the  i6th,  in  spite 
of  frozen  ruts  and  a  film  of  snow.  A  bitter  gale  of  wind  blew  me  along, 
and  combined  with  brilliant  sunshine  in  a  cloudless  sky  to  make  my  progress 
ideally  exhilarating.  I  took  the  tow-path  at  9  o'clock,  2J  m.  and  \  h.  after 
leaving  Port  Clinton,  and  kept  it  through  Hamburg  to  Shoemakersville,  4} 
m.,  at  10.20,  though  I  ought  to  have  followed  it  to  the  other  side  of  S.  The 
road  was  said  to  be  rough  from  H.  to  S.,  and  the  tow-path  was  also  roughened 
by  frozen  mule-tracks,  suggesting  the  idea  that  it  would  be  too  soft  for  riding 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE,    343 

In  smnmer.  I  met  few  boatS)  and  I  walked  i  m.  where  the  wind  was  at  my 
side.  Had  I  been  facing  it,  I  could  not  have  ridden  at  all  on  such  a  surface. 
At  Mooresville»  7\  m.,  I  took  the  tow-path  again  for  i\  m.  to  the  first  bridge  at 
L^eestown  (lying  off  to  the  r.)f  where  I  whi22ed  down  a  smooth  slope  for  i  m. 
A  well-known  tavern  called  Solomon's  Temple  stands  2  m.  from  this  point, 
and  I  reached  it  at  noon,  by  leaving  the  turnpike  at  the  covered  bridge  and 
following  the  telegraph  poles  along  the  Temple  road,  whose  hilly  and 
roughly  fro2en  surface  of  yellow  clay  was  made  ridable  by  the  tremendous 
wind.  Thence  I  went  without  stop  down  a  dangerous  clay  hill  and  through 
streets  of  very  rough  macadam  to  a  point  in  Reading  within  \  m.  of  the  Key- 
stone Hotel,  where  I  rested  i  h.  for  dinner;  and  this  4 J  m.  in  40  min.  was 
perhaps  the  longest  stay  I  had  made  in  the  saddle  since  leaving  Syracuse, 
358  m.  behind.  The  fortnight  thus  terminating  included  the  slowest  and 
most  difficult  riding  of  my  entire  tour ;  and  I  remember  Reading  pleasantly 
as  the  place  where  I  got  fairly  "  out  of  the  woods  "  and  struck  the  turnpike 
which  allowed  swift  progress  nearly  all  the  way  to  the  finish,  six  days  later, 
260  m.  s.  w.  From  the  hotel,  I  followed  Penn  St.,  the  chief  business  avenue 
of  the  city,  to  the  bridge,  beyond  which  1 1.  r.  and  rode  to  the  top  of  the 
hill,  where  I  halted  for  the  sake  of  the  backward  view.  Then  I  went  with- 
out dismount  12  m.  in  2  h.,  climbing  one  quite  difficult  hill,  and  several  lesser 
ones,  and  passing  a  number  of  villages,  of  which  Robesonia  was  the  one 
nearest  where  I  halted.  My  course  being  w.  or  n.  w.,  the  n.  wind  which  had 
helped  me  in  the  forenoon  now  hindered  me  somewhat,  until  it  went  down 
with  the  sun.  I  was  1}  h.  in  doing  the  next  6  m.,  ending  at  the  Baney 
House  in  Myerstown  at  5.30, — the  last  5  m.  having  been  done  without  stop, 
in  spite  of  several  hills,  the  most  difficult  of  which  was  the  one  beyond 
Womelsdorf,  having  a  church  and  grave-yard  on  its  summit. 

Except  for  a  slightly  adverse  wind,  the  next  day  supplied  ideal  weather 
for  riding  (bright  sunshine  and  bitter-cold  air),  and  I  improved  it  by  covering 
51  m.  (8.30  A.  M.  to  7.45  P.  M.),  or  a  greater  distance  than  was  accredited  to 
any  of  my  forty  days,  except  three  of  those  in  Canada.  •  My  first  mount  was 
terminated  in  exactly  3  h.  (iqJ  m.)  by  a  stony  hill  beyond  the  village  of  Palnjy- 
ra ;  and  ranks  next  in  length  to  my  straightaway  stay,  from  Tarrytown  to  Fifty- 
ninth  street  (p.  53).  The  grade  of  the  hill  would  not  have  prohibited  riding, 
if  the  surface  had  been  smooth;  and  my  second  stop  was  at  Hummelstown 
p.  o.,  3J  m.  Poorish  sections  of  road  were  encountered  along  here ;  but  from 
a  point  between  the  7th  and  the  6th  m.  stones,  I  went  without  stop  to  the  r.  r. 
station  in  Harrisburg,  at  2  o'clock  (32J  m.  from  the  start),  barely  escaping  a 
tumble  on  the  dangerous  hill  that  leads  down  to  the  r.  r.  crossing.  I  passed 
through  Lebanon,  the  county  seat,  in  \\  h.  after  leaving  Myerstown;  and  I 
conquered  a  series  of  three  hills  beyond  Annville,  which  might  be  called  diffi- 
cult, more  difficult,  and  most  difficult.  Having  walked  the  long  bridge  over 
the  Susquehanna,  after  |  h.  rest  for  dinner,  1 1.  r.  and  then  curved  to  1.,  under 
the  tracks,  and  so  reached  Hoguestown,  9^  m.,  in  2  h.     I  rode  2  m.  more  in 


344 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  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  I  1. 1. ; 
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 
III  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  (4^  m. 
of  good  road),  we  were  poled  across  the  Potomac  at  Williamsport  (see  p. 
239)  in  a  flat  boat,  a^d  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  hospitalit}- "  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 
4j  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  1}  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, 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE. 


345 


if  a  rider  had  nerve  enough  to  wheel  through  the  ford,  instead  of  crawling 
across  on  the  side-plank  as  I  did ;  and  I  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  condition  and  the  wind  favorable.  It 
is  probable,  however,  that  fresh  metal  will  always  be  found  at  one  point  or 
another  of  this  125  m.  macadamized  roadway,  for  the  toll-company  owning 
it  consult  economy  by  repairing  different  sections  at  different  seasons,  and 
by  avoiding  any  expense  for  a  road-roller,  which  would  immediately  pound 
the  bits  of  limestone  into  ridable  shape.  Ordinary  traffic,  rather,  is  depended 
upon  to  do  this  duty,  and  I  believe  about  three  months  of  it  are  usually  re- 
quired to  grind  the  new  surface  into  smoothness.  Under  this  system,  the 
outer  edges  become  earliest  ridable,  and  a  bicycler  may  often  pick  his 
way  comfortably  along  them,  while- yet  the  center  of  the  roadway  is  a  ridge 
of  loose  metal,  and  tricycling  would  be  quite  impracticable.  In  spite  of 
these  probable  obstacles  resulting  from  its  primitive  management,  this  long- 
est and  best  macadamized  road  in  the  Union  is,  in  my  belief,  the  most  prom- 
ising coarse  in  the  Union  for  a  bicycler  who  is  ambitious  to  make  a  longer 
straightaway  stay  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 
by  the  weather,  and  some  by  deliberate  malice  or  idiocy. 

After  vainly  waiting  24  h.  in  Martinsburg,  for  a  money-order,  which 
arrived  next  day,  I  telegraphed  that  money  be  sent  to  me  at  Staunton,  and  I 
wheeled  up  to  the  telegraph-office  at  Winchester,  22  m.  below,  just  as  the 
reply  came  in  that  it  had  been  so  sent.  Oddly  enough,  my  comrade  of  the  pre- 
vious forenoon  had  taken  the  same  journey,  only  i  h.  in  advance  of  me ;  and 
I  therefore  explored  the  environs  of  W.  in  his  company,  and  afterwards  rode 
a  little  with  a  New  Yorker  who  was  a  student  there  in  the  Shenandoah  Acad- 
emy. He  said  that  the  pike  w.  to  Romney,  40  m.,  was  reported  hard  and 
smooth,  though  it  leads  through  a  thinly  settled  country,  and  he  himself  had 
not  been  inclined  to  explore  it  beyond  the  point  where  he  once  suffered  an 
assault  from  highwaymen,  while  returning  toward  W.  after  dark.  When  I 
left  the  hotel,  next  morning  at  7.30, 1  failed  to  t.  r.  at  the  first  fork,  and  so,  a 
little  later,  I  t.  r.  at  a  dirt-road,  which  brought  me  across  to  the  first  toll-gate. 
A  ride  of  3  h.,  through  the  little  villages  of  Kernstown,  Newtown  and  Middle- 
town,  brought  me  to  Strasburg,  18  m.,  at  whose  Chalybeate  Springs  Hotel  I  got 
a  lunch  and  a  letter,  as  well  as  much  interesting  information  about  the  roads 
and  battle-fields  adjacent.  I  had  planned  to  spend  the  previous  night  there, 
for  the  house  had  been  recommended  to  me  as  both  new  and  neat ;  whereas 
the  best  friend  of  the  best  hotel  in  Winchester  cannot  deny  that  it  is  both 
old  and  musty.  Resuming  the  saddle  at  12.15,  ^  wheeled  2 J  m.  to  the  top  ot 
the  long  incline  of  Fisher's  Hill,  and  then  pulled  out  my  maps  of  the  battles 
fought  there  (Sept.  22  and  Oct.  19,  1864)  and  studied   the  details  of  them. 


346  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Woodstock,  9  m.  on,  is  a  county  town,  whose  chief  hotel  is  the  Strickler,  and 
I  passed  it  at  a  o'clock.  There  was  a  long  incline  beyond  here,  and  also  at 
Edinburg,  ^\  m.,  which  I  reached  in  i  J  h.  The  next  h.  took  me  to  Mt.  Jack- 
son, 5  m.,  and  the  next  to  Newmarket,  ^  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.  (withoot 
stop,  6.25  to  7.10  P.  M.),  I  thought  it  a  wonderfully  fine  course ;  and  there  i» 
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 
11.45  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  spedallj 
fine  view.  Then  came  Harrisonburg  (\\  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,  y\  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  hUls,  with  a  horseman  along- 
side me.  The  toll-gate  hill  would  be  ridable,  however,  with  a  favoring  wind 
and  smopther  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,  I  reached  the  Virginia  Hotel  in  Staunton,  4m^ 
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  Geo.  E.  Pond,  associate  editor  of  the  Army  and 2fmfy 
Journal  {^.  Y.  :  Scribners,  1883,  pp.  a86,  ^i),  is  a  book  which  should  be  read  by  every  intdS- 
gent  tourist  who  proposes  to  visit  this  most  attractive  locality ;  and  I  recommend  thai  he  folkyw 
my  example  by  carrying  in  his  pocket  its  maps  and  pages  which  describe  the  battle-fidds, — 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  3^  in.,  30  m.  to  x  in.),  showing  tlie  roads,' moantains 
and  streams  for  the  entire  region  between  Hagcrstown  and  Cumberland,  on  the  n.,  above  the 
Potomac,  and  Lynchburg  and  Appomattox  (40  m.  below  Staunton),  on  the  s.,  below  the  Janie& 
Double-page  maps  of  the  battle-fields  at  Winchester  (i  m.  to  i  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  Luray,  p.  18,  and  Washington  to  Hagcrs- 
town, p.  52.  I  quote  from  pp.  1-8,  condensing  somewhat  the  phraseology :  "  Virginians 
parallel  rivers,  flowing  to  the  Atlantic,  were  water-barriers  against  attacks  from  the  n.,  while  op- 
reared  to  shield  its  w.  front  were  the  rampant  ridges  of  its  highland  domain.    ITie  valleys  be- 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE.    347 

tween  these  rk^^  furnished  tiell-aheltered  avemies  for  inTading  Northeni  texrhoiy ;  and  the 
most  commanding  one  of  aU  was  the  valley  of  the  Shenandoah,  named  from  the  chief  river  that 
draisa  it.  Its  e.  wall  is  the  lofty  Blue  Ridge ;  its  w.,  the  North  mts.,  a  part  of  the  main  chain 
of  the  Alleghaoies.  Since  iu  oourae  is  s.  w.,  a  Confederate  army  moving  n.  through  it  would 
ax  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 
force  crosnog  this  border  stream  at  WiUiamsport  would  already  be  60  m.  n.  or  in  the  rear  of 
Washington ;  while  one  day's  march  n.  through  the  Cumberiand  Valley,  which  is  simply  a  con- 
tinuation of  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 
strategisu  of  both  armies.  The  war's  initial  campaign  turned  on  the  use  made  of  it  by  the 
forces  which  General  J.  E.  Johnston  posted  at  its  outlet,  and  it  was  the  scene  of  constant  Con- 
federate manceuvring,  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  of  communications  for 
his  Maryland  campaign,  and  captured  at  Harper's  Ferry  10,000  men  and  73  gimsw  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  back 
after  Gettysburg,  pitching  his  camps  along  the  Opequon.  Thus,  though  subordinate  to  the 
main  scene  of  operations  e.  of  the  Blue  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  VaDey  of  Humiliation ;  and  not  until  it  was  wrested 
from  Confederate  control  in  '64,  as  set  forth  in  thu  volume,  did  the  problem  of  the  Richmond 
campaign  find  a  successful  solution.  *  *  *  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  little  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  into  the  valley  itself,  for  below  L. 
the  S.  takes  its  rise  in  a  multitude  of  streams  that  combine  in  three,  called  North,  Middle  and 
Sooth,  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  Harrisonbutig,  25  m.  n.  of  Staunton,  an  isolated  chain  called  Masaa- 
nutien,  rising  abruptly  to  a  height  equal  to  that  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  divides  the  valley  for  more 
than  40  m.,  until  at  Strasbui^;  this  beautiful  range  suddenly  falls  again  into  the  plains.  It  was 
crossed  by  a  good  road  oonnectmg  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 — ^whSe  the  main  or  Strasbuig  valley,  w.  of  the  range,  is  drained  by 
the  North  Fork,  which,  rising  in  the  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- 
nutten, recovers  its  usual  breadth  of  so  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  Vii^nia.  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  advancing  very  rapidly.  The  creeks  and  rivers 
could  be  waded  nearly  everywhere  during  the  summer  and  autxunn,  the  military  significance  of 
the  fords  being  in  most  instances  simply  that  of  leveled  approaches  to  the  crossing-places ;  lor 
often  even  small  streams  ran  between  high  and  precipitous  banks.  In  the  Blue  Ridge  there 
are  practicable  gaps  all  the  way  from  the  James  to  the  Potomac,  that  connect  the  valley  with 
Eastern  Viiginia.    Beginning  with  Rockfish,  the  outlet  of  Staunton,  and  passing  JamanV 


348  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

Brown's.  Semons,  Powell's  and  High  Top,  which  give  access  from  Port  Republic  (o  Chariottes- 
ville,  we  come  to  Swift  Run  Gap,  through  which  a  turnpike  leads  from  Conrad's  Store  to  i 
nardsville,  and  there  branches  to  Orange  and  Gordonsville.  A  little  farther  n.  two  more  t 
pikes  cross  the  Ridge  through  Milani's  and  Thornton  gaps,  one  leading  from  Newmarket, 
the  Massanutten  to  Madison,  and  the  other  diverging  from  it  by  way  of  Luray  to  Culiwper. 
From  Luray  a  very  good  road  runs  n.  between  the  Ridge  and  the  South  Fork  to  Front  Royal, 
where  another  pike  gives  access  to  the  country  east  of  the  Ridge  by  Thoroughfare  and  Chescer 
gaps.  A  few  m.  farther  on,  through  Manassas  Gap,  ran  the  railroad  ol  that  name.  From 
Winchester  turnpikes  led  through  Ashby 's  and  Snicker's  gaps  to  Aldie,  while  Gr^ory*s  and  Keyes 
gaps  are  nearer  Harper's  Ferry.  Doorways  fai  plenty,  therefore,  opened  through  the  Ridge. 
The  best  single  point  for  commanding  these  passes  was  Gordonsville." 

"  A  Tour  to  the  Natural  Bridge,"  as  described  by  L.  W.  Seely  {Xke  Wheelman^  Aug.,  1S83. 
pp.  333-33 1),  was  a  chief  inspiration  of  my  own  ride  thither,  and  it  rendered  me  good  servioe 
as  a  pocket  companion.  The  accompanying  pictures  of  that  great  freak  of  nature,  drawn  by  H. 
Sandham,  are  as  satisfactory  as  could  be  hoped  for  in  a  case  whose  magnitude  is  beyond  the 
power  of  artistic  reproduction ;  but  the  sketch  of  the  Natural  Bridge  Hotel  (though  apparently 
copied  from  a  photograph)  gives  no  adequate  notion  of  that  extensive  caravansary.  The  iaxx  oi 
its  greatness  deserves  insisting  upon,  because  it  is  one  of  the  three  hotels  in  Virginia  where  the 
managers'  ideal  of  comfort  is  likely  to  seem  satisfactory  and  "  modern,"  aooovding  to  the  New 
Yorker's  standard.  "  The  Luray  Inn "  is  another,  newer  and  more  elegant ;  and  the  thml 
(which  I  am  told  is  equally  fine,  and  under  the  management  of  ihc  same  Philadelphians  who  have 
made  a  reputation  at  Luray)  is  "  the  Roanoke,"  at  Salem,  less  than  50  m.  s.  w.  from  Nat- 
ural Bridge.  The  tour  in  question  was  taken  by  three  members  of  the  Capiital  B.  C  ;  and  the 
reporter  of  it,  before  mentioned  (b.  Dec.  10,  1859;  began  riding  Feb.,  x88o),  rode  a  56  in. 
Singer,  weighing  58  lbs.,  including  12  lbs.  of  baggage.  His  companions  were  Max  Hansman, 
48  in.  Xtra(59  lbs.,  incl.  20  lbs.  baggage),  and  C.  G.  Allen,  sain.  BayU8s&  Thomas (59  lbs.,  incL 
8i  lbs.  baggage).  They  left  Harper's  Ferry  Aug.  28,  1883,  at  z.30  P.  m.,  and  reached  Washing- 
ton Sept.  17,  late  in  the  afternoon,  with  a  record  of  449  m.,  exclusive  of  130  ra.  by  train.  The  ex- 
penses of  the  31  days'  trip  averaged  less  than  $3  a  day  for  each  man,  and  (as  on  5  days  practically 
no  wheeling  was  done)  the  average  day's  record  may  be  called  38  m.  They  met  my  own  route 
at  Winchester,  and  after  halting  there  3  days  for  a  broken  backbone,  rode  to  Strasbuxg,  xS  m., 

4  to  6.30  p.  M.  Next  day  they  went  to  Newmarket,  '*  riding  up  all  the  hills,"  and  then  turned 
e.  along  the  Luray  road  to  the  Valley  View  Springs  Hotel,  3  m.  (the  last  ^  m.  being  up  the 
Massanutten  mountain),  which  is  probably  a  pleasanter  stopping  place  than  the  Central  HauA 
in  Newmarket,  for  it  "  gave  a  panoramic  view  of  the  valley,  which  is  here  35  m.  wide,  and  oor 
w.  horizon  was  nearly  100  m.  away."  On  the  return  from  Luray,  they  rode  from  N.  to  Harri- 
sonburg, 18  m.,  in  3  h.  iS  min.,  doing  the  first  10  m.  without  dismount  in  x  h.  "  The  36  m. 
thence  to  Staunton,  though  not  as  good  as  some  parts  of  the  pike,  is  all  ridable,  and  we  covered 
it,  next  day,  in  about  3^  h.  Five  days  later,  Sept.  zz,  in  the  face  of  a  driving  rain,  and  a  sharp 
n.  e.  gale,  which  at  times  absolutely  brought  us  to  a  standstill,  we  rode  back  from  S.  to  H.  in 

5  h.  The  '  recuperative  powers '  of  the  valley  pike  were  well  shown  on  the  xath,  for  then  we 
made  our  longest  run  of  the  tour,  an  even  50  m.,  encUng  at  the  Chalybeate  House  in  Strasburg 
at  6.35  p.  M.,  the  last  35  m.,  from  Mt.  Jackson,  having  been  begun  at  3  o*dock.  We  reached 
there  at  i  o'clock,  having  done  the'  7  m.  from  Newmarket  in  x  h.  This  proves  how  little  effect 
two  days  of  heavy  rain  had  had  upon  the  pike,  which  dries  as  quickly  as  conaete,  and  is  at 
various  points  a  perfect  road,  without  dust  or  mud  and  with  never  a  rut  We  ran  to  Winchester, 
18  m.,  next  morning,  and  on  the  following  forenoon  to  Martinsbvirg,  33^  m  ,  in  3  h.  zy  mm., 
with  30  min.  stop  at  Bunker  Hill.  The  10  m.  thence  to  M.  were  run  in  50  min.  The  pike  franx 
W.  to  M.  was  a  revelation  to  us,  stretching  through  a  fertile  and  beautiful  country,  almost  level, 
and  provided  with  plainly-marked  m.-posts,  which  had  a  most  encoun^ng  way  of  coming  past 
every  5}  min.  Leaving  M.  at  3,  we  rode  to  Hagerstown,  19  m.,  and  were  favorably  impressed 
with  the  Baldwin  House,  where  we  spent  the  night.  We  had  kept  the  pike  aU  the  way,  thou^ 
told  that  the  C.  &  O.  tow-path  also  supplied  good  riding  for  the  5  m.  from  Falling  Waters  to 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE, 


349 


'Williaixisport,  where  we  suffered  some  delay  in  getting  ferried  across  the  swiftly-running  river. 
Our  afternoon's  ride  of  27  m.  from  H.  to  Frederick  led  through  Boonsboro,  10  m.,  and  the  gap 
where  the  desperate  battle  of  South  Mountain  was  fought,  just  20  years  before  (see  p.  238).  l*his 
ascent  of  2  m.  might  be  ridden,  though  walking  is  preferable.  Powerful  braking  was  necessary 
on  the  descent  into  the  Middletown  valley,  across  which  the  road  ran  8  m.  to  the  base  of  the 
Catoctin  mts.,  up  which  we  walked,  rewarded  by  a  magnificent  view  backward  and  a  sight  of  the 
spores  of  Frederick  in  the  e.  There,  on  the  i6th,  we  crossed  the  Monocacy  by  a  solid  stone 
bridge  built  in  181 1,  and  we  found  other  interesting  relics  of  the  old  coaching  days  on  the 
hilly  but  ridable  pike  which  took  us  to  Poplar  Springs,  18  m.,  where  a  good  dinner  was  had. 
Thenoe  the  road  was  poorer  and  stonier  to  Ellicott  City,  18  m.,  which  is  within  9  m.  of  Balti- 
more. At  the  start  from  E.  C,  after  a  comfortable  night  at  the  Howard  House,  we  strayed 
away  into  the  woods,  and  f  ceded  the  Patuzent  rather  than  turn  back ;  but  we  thus  cut  off 
4  m.  and  reached  a  house  called  Burtonsville,  on  the  main  road,  14  m.  from  the  start  The 
f  8  m.  thenoe  to  Washington,  throt^  Sligo  and  Brightwood,  allowed  us  to  ride  at  reasonable 
speed,  for  the  first  time  on  this  final  day  of  the  tour." 

I  now  return  to  a  report  of  their  experiences  between  Staunton  and  the  Natural  Bridge,  as 
a  preliminary  to  my  own.  In  their  case,  as  in  mine,  a  rainy  night  at  S.  changed  the  red  clay  to 
mad ;  but  while  I  only  accompUshed  i^  m.  after  a  continuous  strug^e  of  i  h.,  and  then  turned 
back  in  despair,  they  managed  to  do  the  13  m.  to  Greenville  in  3  h.  Such  rate  of  progress 
seems  to  me  quite  rapid  for  a  suriace  which  is  at  all  difficult,  but  their  historian  speaks  of  it  as 
if  it  were  so  desperately  slow  as  in  itself  to  proclaim  the  phenomenal  badness  of  the  road : 
"  Great  quagmires  and  mud-holes  abounded,  like  those  described  in  Didcens's  account  of  a  Vir- 
ginia stage^ide,  requiring  us  to  lift  the  machines  bodily  and  carry  them  through  the  mud  to  a 
more  solid  surface.  From  G.,  which  we  left  at  2.25,  the  road  improved  somewhat,  and  at  Mid- 
way, 6  m.,  it  became  comparatively  dry,  and  we  found  that  we  were  making  6  m.  per  h.  The 
hills  were  steep,  but  we  were  repaid  for  the  exertion  by  the  magnificent  views  of  mountain 
scenery  which  greeted  us  from  each  summit  We  dismounted  at  the  National  Hotel  in  Lexing- 
ton at  6.34,  just  4  h.  from  G ,  having  done  the  last  is  m.  on  the  pike  from  Fairfield  in  a  h. 
Considering  the  hard  hill-pulling  and  rough  reading,  we  thought  our  time  creditable ;  though  a 
cycling  AnaniaM  who  reached  L.  on  a  bicycle,  a  month  before,  had  told  people  of  his  doing  the 
36  m.  from  S.  in  3  h.  1  We  reached  the  finish  at  i  p.  m.  of  the  8th,  ours  being  the  first  bicycles 
at  the  Natural  Bridge.  The  road  of  15  m.  thither  from  L.  was,  at  the  outset,  almost  inde- 
scribable ',  for,  as  rain  had  ^en  during  the  night,  the  tenacious  red  day  was  at  its  worst 
Oogging  in  the  rear  forks,  and  beneath  brake  and  leg-guard,  it  would  stop  the  wheels ;  so  that 
riding  was  impossible  and  walking  an  effort  As  we  ascended,  however,  and  got  beyond  the 
region  touched  by  the  shower,  the  road  became  comparatively  dry,  and  ran  through  long  stretches 
1  of  wood  in  a  wild  and  desolate  country.  Two  days  later,  we  journeyed  to  the  r.  r.  station,  3  m. 
from  the  Bridge,  down  a  road  whose  roughness,  steepness  and  general  depravity  can  hardly  be 
described,  and  took  train  thence  to  Staunton,  67  m.,  which  we  reached  in  a  pouring  rain." 
Three  years  afterwards,  one  of  the  trio,  M.  Hansman,  again  wheeled  to  Natural  Bridge,  going 
this  time  on  a  sociable  tricyde,  with  a  Mr.  Killits,  of  his  dub.  Their  course  was  from  Luray 
(Sept  6, 1885),  through  Staunton  and  Lexington,  ito  m.  in  3  days;  and  only  one  whedman  had 
ridden  from  L.  to  the  Bridge,  in  '85,  ahead  of  themselves.  Returning,  they  took  train  to 
Staunton,  and  wheded  thence  to  Martinsbuxg,  rx4  m.,  in  24  h.  34  min.,  in  spite  of  many  in- 
terruptions canaed  by  freshly<«pread  stone.  The  start  was  made  at  8.45  p.  m.  of  Sept. 
II,  and  M.  was  reached  at  9.19  of  the  isth.    The  first  xoo  m.  was  done  in  21  h.  58  min. 

My  own  visit  to  the  Natural  Bridge  was  accomplished  by  train  and  on  foot  Though  a 
tradesman  at  S.,  of  whom  I  bought  some  underdothing  on  the  drizdy  night  of  November  23, 
assured  me  that  the  day  road  thence  to  L.  "  would  be  found  nearly  as  good  as  the  pike,"  I 
found  it  in  fact  so  bad  as  hardly  to  be  walkable,  even  without  the  weight  of  a  loaded  bicyde 
lifted  h^h  above  my  head.  I  despairingly  waded  through  several  sloughs  in  this  fashion,  as 
the  only  alternative  to  uninterrupted  cleaning  out  my  forks  with  a  stick  (for  the  mud  was  so 
tenadous  as  to  stop  the  revolution  of  the  wheels  in  less  than  five  rods  of  pushing) ;  and  then,  at 


350         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

a  post  2  m.  from  the  hotel,  and  i  m.  beyond  my  last  attempt  to  try  the  saddle,  I  gave  up  bope, 
and  floundered  back  again  through  the  mist  and  dnzxle  to  my  starting  point.  Dedding  then  co 
wheel  homewards  to  New  York,  without  even  viatting  the  Bridge,  1  was  agam  balked,  by  my- 
mechanical  clumsiness  in  "  tightening  up  "  the  bicycle  to  such  a  degree  that  its  wheels  refnaeid 
to  revolve  at  all  (see  p.  46).  So,  at  5  o'clock  I  started  with  it  by  train  for  Lexington,  on  the 
newly-opened  Valley  Branch  of  the  B.  &  O.  r.  r.,  whose  terminal  staUon  was  yet  unbtiDt,  and 
whose  passengers  were  at  8  o'clock  plumped  down  m  the  mud  and  rain  and  pitchy  darkftr^s,  at 
a  desolate  point  i  m.  from  town.  A  hackman  kindly  offered  to  carry  my  bicycle  thither  for  $1, 
and  assured  me  that  no  shelter  could  be  found  for  it  otherwise ;  but  I  discovered  a  little  shanty 
used  by  the  telegraphers,  and  persuaded  them  to  receive  "  Na  234,"  though  they  warned  mc 
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  tiamped  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  reootd 
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  '*  befe*  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  "  1 
ultimately  managed  to  get  a  breakfast,  of  oysters  and  chicken.  The  latter  was  walking  aroond 
the  house,  quite  sociable  like,  when  I  clambered  down  from  the  train ;  and  the  attending  negreas, 
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. 1 5, 1  started  out  through  the  fog,  and  reached  the  Natural  Bridge  Hotel,  9  m.  in  2I  h.,  by 
which  time  the  sun  was  shining  brightly. 

Balcony  Falls  lies  on  the  main  line  of  the  Richmond  &  Alleghany  r.  r.  (whidi  u  a  recent 
successor  to  the  old  James  river  canal  of  Washington's  time — running  largely  tqxm  its  tow- 
path,  and  making  the  same  unfortunate  short-stop  at  Clifton  Foige,  230  m.,  without  crossing 
the  AUeghanies),  and  I  had  reached  it  by  a  branch  track  of  21  m.  from  L.,  thereby  getting 
within  6  m.  of  the  station  called  Natural  Bridge.  An  uphill  carriage  road  of  3^  m.  leads 
thence  to  the  hotel ;  but  as  no  train  was  due  on  the  main  line  for  4  I^m  1  walked  along  the  track 
for  6  m.,  and  then  hiui  a  pleasant  tramp  through  the  woods,  along  a  path  where  bicycling  woold 
be  occasionally  practicable,  in  sjMte  of  aU  the  hard  things  the  Washington  wheelmen  wrote  aboat 
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  ao  m.  to  Riverside,  whence  I 
tramped  back  to  my  hotel  at  Lexington,  7  m.  in  a  h.,  in  season  for  supper,  and  then  at  8,  with 
my  bicycle  safely  stored  in  the  baggage-car,  began  my  homeward  }ourney  to  New  York,  450  m. 
in  19  h.  The  Valley  Branch  of  the  B.  &  O.  r.  r.  extends  along  the  w.  side  of  the  Massanntten, 
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  crosnng  the  R.  &  A.  r.  r.  at  Natural  Bridge  sution,  40 
m.  from  Roanoke.  Hence,  except  for  the  need  of  going  back  to  L.  for  my  bicycle,  I  shoukl 
not  have  left  the  train  of  this  road  at  Riverside,  but  should  have  kept  it  straight  down  the  val- 
ley until  it  met  the  B.  &  O.  main  line ;  or,  if  I  had  wished  to  readi  Staunton,  I  should  have  got 
off  at  Waynesboro  Junction,  5$  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  clear  to  the  touring  wheel- 
man that  the  most  economical  way  of  combining  a  visit  to  the  two  great  natural  wonders  ol 
Virginia  is  to  take  train  directly  from  Luray  to  Natural  Bridge,  ito  m.  Waynesboro  is  just 
half-way  between,  dose  beside  Rockfish  Gap,  through  which  the  C  &  O.  r.  r.  goes  to  Chariottes> 
vUle  (the  chief  town  of  Albemarle  county,  and  seat  of  the  University  of  Virginia),  27  m.  e.,  and 
to  Gordonsville,  21  m.  n.  e.  Cnlpeper  is  about  as  m.  n.  of  G.,  and  Warrenton  about  20  m.  n. 
of  C. ;  and  Chapter  XXVI.  will  describe  the  route  I  wheeled  from  Washington  to  Wanenton 


THOUSAND  ISLANDS  TO  NATURAL  BRIDGE,    351 

auxd  thence  to  Luray.     By  taking  train  at  L.  at  2  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  i  o'clock  and  reach  L.  at  5  a.  m.    Or,  if  he  prefers  to 
leave  L..  at  2  a.  m.,  he  may  reach  the  Bridge  at  daybreak,  and  start  on  the  return  either  at  mid- 
day or  midnight.    As  these  trains  are  12  h.  apart,  and  as  the  C.  &  O.  r.  r.  also  has  only  two 
txains  a  day,  it  wiU  be  seen  that  the  chances  are  very  slight  of  changing  trains  at  Waynesboro 
Junction  (for  Staunton,  12  m.  w.,  or  Charlottesville,  27  m.  e.)  without  long  delays.    That  is  why 
I  say  that  L.,  though  50  m.  further  from  the  Bridge  than  S.,  is  the  most  economical  point  of 
resorting  to  the  r.  r.  for  a  touring  wheehnan  who  designs  to  visit  all  three  places.    Remounting 
Ixia  wheel  at  L.  at  daybreak  (after  a  comfortable  night  at  the  famous  hotel  there,  or  a  night  on 
the  train),  he  may  climb  over  the  Massanutten  to  Newmarket  and  then  speed  down  the  valley 
pike  to  S. ;  or,  if  he  wishes  to  go  around  the  mountain  rather  than  over  it,  he  may  follow  the  South 
Fork  n.  for  ao  m.  through  the  Luiay  valley  to  Front  Royal  (though  I  have  quoted  an  authority 
in  praise  of  this  road,  p.  348, 1  was  told  at  L.  that  it  was  fairly  ridable  in  dry  weather  only),  and 
thence  t.  w.  10  m.  to  the  pike  at  Strasburg  or  Middletown.     Varying  my  recommendation  some- 
what, I  may  suggest  that,  if  a  man  were  spry,  he  might  be  able  to  get  his  wheel  from  the  bag- 
g^^e-car  to  the  baggage-room  at  Waynesboro  during  the  halt  of  the  train  which  was  taking  him 
from  1*.  to  Natural  Bridge;  and  then,  returning  to  W.  instead  of  L.,  he  could  wheel  the  12  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 
visited  the  tomb  of  Thomas  Jefferson  at  Monttcello.     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  Charlottesville  gets  in  fine  condition  at  times ;  but  a 
coodnned  drought  makes  it  seriously  dusty,  and  rains  turn  it  into  deep  mud.    Same  may  be  said 
of  roate  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  could  all  be  ridden.    The  scenery  is  magnificent ;  and,  even  with  my  limited  experience, 
1  should  not  be  afraid  to  attempt  the  trip."    Such  is  the  report  to  me  (March  2z,  '85)  of  W.  W. 
Gibbs,  President  of  the  Star  B.  C.  at  S. ;  and  I  supplement  it  with  the  following,  from  L.  B. 
£nsk>w,  of  Richmond  (July  9,  '85) :    "  Such  parts  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- 
ii^ton,  being  composed  of  minute  particles  of  slate,  packed  hard  and  smooth.     But  there  were 
lott  of  hills  that  would  give  good  chances  for  walking.     I  am  told  that  roads  are  good  from  S. 
to  GordonsviUe ;    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 
Ridmiond  (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. 
Ashland  we  sometimes  visit,  by  a  route  of  26  m.,  which  requires  a  6  m.  walk  in  sand  five  inches 
deep.    The  riding  to  Petersburg,  20  m.  s.  e. ,  is  also  very  tiresome,  and  2  or  3  m.  must  be  walked. " 
Pottstown,  43  m.  n.  w.  of  Philadelphia,  is  the  home  of  Hugh  J.  High,  who  wheeled  3409 
m.»  between  May  4  and  Oct.  to,  '85,  mostly  in  a  circuit  of  unrepeated  roadway.    A  full  account 
of  this  notable  journey  will  be  given  in  Chapter  XXX. ;  but,  for  better  comparison  with  facts 
in  the  present,  I  here  exhibit  the  route  of  his  last    la  days :  "  Sept.  29,  Grayson,  Ky.,  to 
BarbersviUe,  W.   Va.,  46  m.  (2),  8  h.  ;  30th,  Charieston,  4a  m.  (i(),  7  h. ;  Oct.  x,  Gauley*s 
Bridge,  38  m.  (34)>  8  h. ;  ad,  Big  Snell  Mt.,  3a  m.  (22),  10  h. ;  3d,  Lewisburg,  37  m.  (ts),  7^  h. ; 
4th,  Covington,  Va.,  3a  m.  (8),  7  h. ;  5th,  Goshen,  38  m.  (10),  8h. ;  6th,  Mt.  Sidney,  42  m.  (8), 
8  h. ;  7th,  Strasburg,  65  m.,  7h. ;  8th,  Hagerstown,  65  m.,  8  h. ;  9th,  New  Oxford,  43  m.  (9),  7}  h.; 
loih,  Pottstewn,  81  m.  (4),  12  h.    The  numerals  in  parenthesis  show  the  miles  walked  each  day, 
and  the  h.  numerals  show  the  actual  riding  time.    On  the  3d,  4th,  6th  and  8th,  the  rides  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  y«c 
heard  of.  It  was  completed,  oddly  enough,  on  the  very  day  after  I  wrote  the  words  on  p.  3 17, 
saying  that  my  own  350  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  official 
maps  of  the  War  Department,"  on  a  scale  of  3  m.  to  i  in.  Richmond  being  at  the  middle  of 
the  w.  maiigin,  a  strip  of  country  50  m.  wide  is  shown,  stretching  thenoe  e.  to  Norfolk  and 
Chesapeake  Bay,  and  all  the  roads,  streams,  swamps  and  hills,  and  the  marches  of  the  Unioe 
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  nearly  all  the  other  States 
in  the  book, — the  combined  map  of  Mass.,  Conn,  and  R.  I.  being  the  best,  because  of  its  large 
scale,  8  m.  to  I  in.  Street  plans  of  the  cities  of  New  York  (x  m.  to  3  in.)  and  Washington  (i 
m.  to  2|  in.)  are  likewise  given.  All  the  roads  between  W.  and  Richmond  are  also  shown  00 
the  map  (13  by  12  in.,  x8  m.  to  x  in.)  which  accompanies  "  The  Viiginia  Campaigns  of  '64  axtd 
'65,"  by  Andrew  A.  Humphreys,  Brig.-Gen.  and  Chief  of  Engineers,  U.  S.  A.  (N.  Y. :  Sctib- 
ners,  1883,  %\)\  and  the  book  itself  may  be  recommended  as  a  worthy  guide  for  the  stadicns 
tourist  in  this  region  of  battle-fields.  It  is  the  fiiud  one  in  a  series  of  a  dosen  Toltimea  of  uni- 
form binding  and  price,  called  "  The  Campaign  of  the  Civil  War,"  and  its  immediate  predeoeaaor 
was  the  Shenandoah  book  from  which  I  have  liberally  quoted.  The  four  earlier  ones  whi^  oon- 
cem  Viiginia  are  :  (III.)  "The  Peninsula,"  by  Alexander  S.  Webb,  Bvt  Maj.^i^en.  U.  S.  A., 
Assistant  Chief  of  Artillery,  Army  of  the  Potomac,  i86x-'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  Bng.- 
Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. ;  (VI.)  "  Chancellorsville  and  Gettysbuig,"  by  Abner  Doubleday,  BvL  Bfa}.- 
Gen.  U.  S.  A.,  and  late  Maj.-Gen.  U.  S.  Vols.,  commanding  the  First  Corps  at  Gettysburg. 
Numerous  maps  are  given  in  all  four  bopks,— the  best  ones  showing  the  country  from  Washix^- 
ton  to  Warrenton  and  Sperryville  (Vol.  IV.),  and  from  the  Potomac  to  Harrisboxg  (Vol.  VI., 

15  m.  to  X  in.)>  and  the  four  battle-fields  luuned  in  the  titles,  x  m.  to  x  in.  For  the  sake  of  00m- 
pleieness,  I  append  the  titles  of  the  other  volumes  of  the  series,  and  also  of  three  nmilar  ones 
called  "The  Navy  in  the  Civil  War."  Tourists  in  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  and  Geocgia, 
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.,  Secretary  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-Governor  of  Ohio ;  late  Secretary  of  the  Interior  of  the  United  States;  Maj.^Gen.  U. 
8.  Vols.,  commanding  33d  Corps ;  (X.)  "  The  March  to  the  Sea— Franklin  and  Nashville,"  by 
Jacob  D.  Cox ;  "  The  Blockade  and  the  Cruisers,"  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  Cdtons  (x8a  Will- 
iam St.,  N.  Y.)  issue  "  a  map  of  Va.,  W.  Va.,  Md.  and  Del.,  with  E.  Tenn.,  and  parts  of  other 
States  "  (46  by  32  in.,  12  m.  to  x  in.,  $x.50,  mounted  $3),  which  their  catalogue  calls  "  the  best 
ever  published  of  those  States ;  for  its  lai^e  scale  and  careful  execution  enable  a  great  amount  <A 
information  to  be  clearly  represented."  They  also  have  a  map  of  the  same  region,  x8  by  ay  in., 
75  c. ;  "  Delaware,"  26  by  x6  in.,  $x.25 ;  "  Md.  and  Del.,  with  a  plan  of  the  District  of  Colmn- 
bia,"  x8  by  X4  in.,  50  c. ;  and  "  City  of  Washington,"  x8  by  14 in.,  50  a  In  the  list  of  pocket- 
maps  issued  by  G.  H.  Adams  &  Son,  59  Beekman  st,  N.  Y.,  (tec.  each,  ao  m.  to  i  in.)  are 
"  Va.  and  W.  Va.,"  "  Md.  and  Del.,"  "  Ky.  and  Tenn.,"  "  N.  C.  and  S.  C,"  "  G«.'aiid  Ala,," 
"Ala.  and  Miss.,"  "Florida,"  "Texas,"  "Ark.  and  Indian  Ter." 


xxV. 

THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA.* 

"  There  are  islands  in  the  ocean 
Where  the  wild  and  restless  motion 
Of  Uie  heart  that  beats  and  surges  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  Bennudas  **  had  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 
Jane ;  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 
Bermudas," — in  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 

tprom  Tkt  S^rittg/UUL  WketlnutCt  GasgtUt  January,  1885,  pp.  139- MS* 
23 


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  consdence 
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  dispel  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  fled  from.  The 
literature  of  the  locality  had  been  well-studied  during  the  vo3ragc;  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,  ccmstitute  the 
summit  of  a  great  submarine  mountain,  somewhat  higher  than  Mont  Blanc,  and  some  600  miles 
distant  from  any  other  land.  The  land  area  is  about  nineteen  and  one-fourth  square  miles, 
or  aboQt  13,378  acres,  of  which  3,300  acres  are  under  tillage.  The  constmction  of  its  rocks, 
and  the  derivation  of  its  vegetation,  birds,  and  insects,  afford  some  interestiiig  and  suggestive 
illustrations  of  modem  views  on  those  entertaining  subjects.  Its  settlement  was  nearly  coin- 
cident with  that  of  Virginia,  although  its  population  of  761  per  square  mile  far  exceeds  that 
of  Virginia,  or  of  any  other  rural  part  of  the  adjacent'  continent.  The  aggregate  populatioa 
(exclusive  of  sailors  and  soldiers)  is  14,650,  of  which  60  percent,  is  colored,  but,  owing  to  a 
;^6o  freehold  qxialification,  the  whole  number  of  legal  voters  is  854.  Hence  the  repraaentati«« 
body,  as  well  as  all  administrative  functions,  is  in  the  hands  of  the  most  respected,  taz-payiqg 


II.  J.  W.,  in  The  Nation^  March  37,  1884,  p.  375. 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA,  355 

The  general  reTenoe  is  about  £y>^oQo^  derived  entirely  fnHn  a  specific  duty  on  qnrits 
^md  tobaoco,  and  a  txifling  ad-valorem  duty  of  5  per  cent,  on  all  other  importations.  From 
diis  revenue  is  maintained  the  entire  lesisl^tive  and  judicial,  and  a  fair  proportion  of  the  ex- 
^acntive  machinery,  excellent  municipal  conveniences  in  the  two  towns  of  Hamilton  and  St. 
CSeorge's,  a  general  island  police,  and  the  efficient  maintenance  of  over  ninety-five  miles  of 
vioada  and  streets,  exclusive  of  the  sixteen  miles  of  military  roads,  which  are  also  open  to  public 
VKse,  but  nuuntained  by  the  Imperial  military  authorities.  It  is  these  streets  and  roads,  and 
t^Mot  eoonomic  construction,  which  are  especially  interesting  to  Americans,  who  have  only  got  . 
a  slep  beyond  savage  tribes  in  the  making  and  maintenance  of  public  highways,  although  we 
spend  somewhat  more  upon  them  than  the  ridiest  and  most  perfectly  supplied  European  na- 
cions.  The  Bermuda  roads,  though  penetrating  a  very  uneven  and  undulating  surface,  are  * 
^r*^'^  almost  to  the  capacity  of  railroads,  shrinking  from  no  "  rock  cuts  "  or  expensive  "  fills," 
or  solid  causeways,  to  obtain  this  result.  Most  of  the  heaviest  work  of  grading,  draining,  and 
naetaling  (they  are  all  metaled)  was  done  by  borrowing  long-term  convicts  f rqm  the  mother- 
comtry.  The  heavy  fortifications  belonging  to  the  Imperial  Government  were  mainly  oon- 
structedin  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."  Tropica]  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  Government  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,  1  after  remarking  that  **  the  soil  is  very  thin,  and  of  a  red  color; 
that  it  is  ahready  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  (pinion  of  the  scientist,  is 
their  fonaoation.  Originally  they  were  nothing  but  ree&  of  coral.  Gradually  the  central  por- 
tiona  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 
oelebiated  for  the  inhoepiuble  treatment  it  extends  to  those  who  court  iu  acquaintance,  had  a 
hardening  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 
varioos  stages  of  fonnalion  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 
namberooe  hundred,  with  a  laige  flock  of  nameless  rocks.  The  main  group  fonns  a  chain 
shaped  like  a  fish-hook,  from  St  George's  Island  to  Irehnd  Island,  and  connected  by  cause- 
ways.    On  the  northern  side  they  are  hedgedin  by  a  remarkable  coralline  reef  extending  in  a 

»"The  Athmtic  Islands."  by  S.  G.  W.  Benjamin,  8vo,  pp.  374  (New  York:  Harper  & 
Brothcn,  1878),  devotes  twenty  pages  to  Bermuda. 


356  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

semi-drcle  completely  across,  subtending  the  arc  of  the  bay  lying  between  these  two  islands,  a 
distance  of  twenty-five  miles.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  Bermudas  are  in  the  hif^est  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  breakere.  As  there  is  bat  one  paaaaige 
by  which  it  can  be  entered,  it  serves  as  an  impenetrable  cheval-de-frut  against  all  ships  ol 
the  enemy.  The  islands,  in  a  direct  line,  are  but  fifteen  miles  in  leogth,  and  never  over  two 
miles  broad,  and  generally  very  much  narrower,  and  excessively  cut  up  with  creeks  and  ba^s; 
and  yet  they  give  an  impression  of  a  much  larger  area — to  such  a  degree  as  afanoat  to  onae 
within  the  definition  of  an  illusion.  The  surface,  nowdiere  over  350  feet  high,  is  ahrays  undo- 
lating ;  and  thus  one  will  often  find  himself  in  a  little  sylvan  hoUow  surrounded  by  liill«  ao  steep 
as  to  give  the  impression  oi  considerable  elevation ;  they  are  clothed  with  cedar  groves.  Ob 
the  intervening  meadow-lands  lies,  perchance,  a  little  pool  surrounded  by  attractive  ^rm-hooses 
and  gardens,  and  a  church-spire.  One  oould  easily  imagine  himself  in  some  New  England  vak, 
hundreds  of  miles  from  the  sea,  when  a  turn  in  the  road  reveals  the  ocean  oolyafewKSR 
yards  away ;  and  the  illusion  is  heightened  by  the  numerous  admirable  roads  running  in  evciy 
direction.  A  penal  settlement  existed  until  recently  in  Bermuda,  and  the  convicts  were  em- 
ployed to  hew  out  of  the  rocks  lao  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  Tinus,  during  the  first  two  months  of  188 j,  by  W.  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  ezod 
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  £act,iriuch 
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  cvciy^ 
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  sx  indi  crust  of  soil  on  top  of  it,  and  every  man  hat  a 
quarry  on  his  own  premises.  Everywhere  you  go  you  see  square  recesses  cut  out  of  the  IdD- 
sides,  with  perpendicular  walls,  unmarred  by  crack  or  crevice ;  and  perhaps  yoo  imagine  dtat  a 
house  grew  out  of  the  ground  there,  and  has  been  removed  in  a  single  piece  from  die  mould.  If 
you  do,  you  err ;  but  the  material  for  a  house  has  been  quarried  there.  They  cat  t^g^  dosm 
through  the  coral,  to  any  depth  which  is  convenient, —  ten  to  twenty  feet, — and  take  itotf 
in  great  square  blocks.  This  cutting  Is  done  with  a  chisel,  which  has  a  handle  tvrelve  or  fiftees 
feet  long,  and  is  used  as  one  uses  a  crowbar  when  he  is  drilling  a  hole,  or  a  dasher  when  be 
is  churning.  Thus  soft  is  this  stone.  Then,  wfth  a  common  hand-aaw,  they  saw  Ae  great 
Uocks  into  handsome,  huge  bricks,  that  are  two  feet  long,  a  foot  wide,  and  about  six  inches 
thick.    These  stand  loosely  piled  during  a  month  to  harden ;  then  the  work  of  buOding  bc^ns. 


1  Reprinted  as  the  second  chapter  (pp.  36  to  105)  of  "The  Stolen  White  Elephant  **  (Bor 
ton  :  Osgood  &  Co.,  1883). 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA,  357 

The  houae  is  built  of  these  blocks;  it  is  roofed  with  broad  coral  slabs  an  inch  thick,  whose 
edges  Up  upon  each  other,  so  that  the  roof  looks  like  a  succession  of  shallow  steps  or  terraces  ; 
die  chimneys  are  built  of  the  coral  blocks,  and  sawed  into  graceful  and  picturesque  patterns ; 
tlie  ground  floor  veranda  is  paved  with  coral  blocks ;  also  the  walk  to  the  gate ;  the  fence  is 
boih  kA.  coral  blocks,—  buih  in  massive  panels,  with  broad  capstones  and  heavy  gate-posts,  and 
the  whole  trimmed  into  easy  lines  and  comely  shape  with  the  saw.  Then  they  put  a  hard 
coat  of  whitewash,  as  thick  as  your  thumb-nail,  cm  the  fence  and  all  over  the  houae,  roof, 
ciumnejs  and  all.  Cased  thus  in  its  hard  scale  of  whitewash,  not  a  crack,  or  sign  of  a  seam, 
or  joining  of  the  blocks,  is  detecuble,  from  base-stone  to  chimney-top ;  the  building  looks  as  if 
it  had  been  carved  from  a  single  block  of  stone,  and  the  doors  and  windows  sawed  out  after- 
wards. A  Bermuda  house  does  not  look  like  marble ;  it  is  a  much  intenser  white  than  that.  It 
is  exactly  the  white  of  the  idog  of  a  cake,  and  has  the  same  unemphasized  and  acaredy  percep- 
tible polish.  There  is  something  eidtilarating,  even  hilarious,  about  its  vivid  whiteness  when 
the  sum  plays  upon  it.  I  know  of  no  other  country  that  has  chimneys  —  too  pure  and  white  for 
this  world — ^worthy  to  be  gazed  at  and  gloated  over.  Wherever  you  go,  in  the  town  or  along 
the  ooontry  roads,  among  little  potato-farms  and  patches,  or  extensive  country-seats,  these 
atainleaB  white  dwellings,  gleaming  out  from  flowers  and  foliage,  meet  you  at  every  turn.  The 
least  little  fait  of  a  cottage  is  as  white  and  blemishless  as  the  stateliest  mansion.  Nowhere  is 
there  dirt  or  stench,  puddle  or  hog-wallow,  neglect,  disorder  or  lack  of  trimpeas  and  neatness. 
The  roads,  the  streets,  the  dwellings,  the  people,  the  clothes, — ^their  neatness  extends  to  every- 
thing that  falls  under  the  eye.  It  is  the  tidiest  country  in  the  world.  And  very  much  the 
tidiest,  too. 

Bennoda  roads  are  made  by  cutting  down  a  few  inches  into  the  solid  white  oond— or  a  good 
many  feet,  where  a  hill  intrudes  itself— and  smoothing  off  the  surface  of  the  road-bfed.  It  is  a 
aimpLe  and  eauy  process.  The  grain  of  the  coral  is  coarse  and  porous ;  the  road-bed  has  the 
look  of  being  made  of  coarse  white  sugar*  These  country  roads  curve  and  wind  hither  and 
thither  in  the  delightfulest  way,  unfolding  pretty  surprises  at  every  turn  :  pillowy  masses  of 
oleander  that  seem  to  float  out  from  behind  distant  projections  like  the  pink  cloud-banks  of  sun- 
act  ;  sodden  plooges  among  cottages  and  gardens,  life  and  activity,  followed  by  as  sudden  plunges 
into  the  soinber  twilight  and  stillness  of  the  woods  ;  flitting  visions  of  white  fortresses  and 
heaoon  towers,  pictured  against  the  sky  on  remote  hill-tops ;  glimpses  of  shining  green  sea, 
caught  for  a  moment  through  open  head-lands,  then  lost  again ;  more  woods  and  solitude ;  and 
by  and  by  another  timi  lays  bare,  without  warning,  the  full  sweep  of  the  inland  ocean,  en- 
riched with  its  bars  of  soft  color,  and  graced  with  its  wandering  sails.  Take  any  road  you  please, 
you  may  depend  upon  it,  you  will  not  stay  in  it  half  a  mile.  Your  road  is  everything  that  a 
road  ought  to  be :  it  is  bordered  with  trees,  and  with  strange  plants  and  flowers ;  it  is  shady 
and  pleasant,  or  sunny  and  still  pleasant ;  it  carries  you  by  the  prettiest  and  peacefulest  and 
most  homelike  of  homes,  and  through  stretches  of  forest  that  lie  in  a  deep  hush  sometimes, 
and  sometimes  are  alive  with  the  music  of  birds;  it  curves  always,  which  is  a  continual  promise, 
«4iereas  stra^ht  roads  reveal  everything  at  a  glance  and  kill  interest.  Your  road  is  all  this, 
and  yet  yoa  will  not  sUy  in  it  half  a  mile,  for  the  reason  that  little,  seductive,  mysterious  roads 
are  always  Ivanching  oitf  from  it  on  either  hand,  and  as  these  curve  sharply  also,  and  hide 
what  is  beyond,  you  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  desert  your  own  chosen  road  and  explore 
them.  You  are  usually  paid  for  your  trouble ;  consequently,  your  walk  inland  always  turns  out 
to  be  one  of  the  most  crooked,  involved,  purposeless,  and  interesting  experiences  a  body  can 
imagine.  Hiere  is  enough  of  variety.  Sometimes  yon  are  in  the  level  open,  with  marshes 
thidt-srown  with  flag-lances  that  are  ten  feet  high  on  the  one  hand,  and  potato  and  onion  or- 
chards on  the  other ;  next,  you  are  on  a  hill-top,  with  the  ocean  and  the  islands  spread  around 
yon ;  presently  the  road  winds  through  a  deep  cut,  shut  in  by  perpendicular  walls,  thirty  or  forty 
feet  high ;  and  by  and  by  your  way  is  along  the  sea-edge,  and  you  may  look  down  a  fathom  or 
two  through  the  transparent  waters  and  watch  the  diamond-like  flash  and  play  of  the  light  upon 
the  rocks  and  sands  on  the  bottom  until  you  are  tired  of  it,— if  you  are  so  constituted  as  to  be 
able  to  get  tired  of  it 


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  b 
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  architectare 
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 
thumb,  Ireland  Point  as  the  end  of  the  forefinger,  which  is  crooked  towards 
it,  and  Hamilton  Harbor  as  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.  George,  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  inmiediate  service,  after  I  had  superintended  the  hoisting  of  it  from 
the  hold,  and  had  convinced  the  custom-house  officer  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  ofiicial  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  putting 
ashore  of  the  wheels,  all  under-officers  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding;  and, 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA.  359 

as  the  hours  wore  on,  the  increasing  warmth  o£  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 
iirhose  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,-— or,  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-half  from  St.  George's.  Three  main  roads  from  Hamilton— K:alled 
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  \yi  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  also  a  more  direct 
road,  of  rougher  surface,  leading  from  the  Sound  to  the  Causeway.  The  ride 
across  this — ^with  green  waters  upon  one  side,  and  blue  waters  upon  the  other, 
and  the  hues  of  both  varying  in  intensity  according  to  the  tides  and  the  posi- 


360  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tion  of  the  coral  reefs — ^is  always  a  Tery  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  dismount,  in  both  directions.  I  think  the 
same  may  be  said  of  the  north  route  around  the  Sound ;  but,  though  I  rode 
over  it  in  both  directions,  I  cannot  remember  whether  I  conquered  all  the 
hills  or  not. 

The  South  road  is  reached  at  a  mile  from  the  dock  in  Hamilton,  by  going 
southeasterly  to  the  head  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  Flatts  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  the  southeast  comer  of  Harrington  Sound, — 
the  distance  to  here  from  the  fork  being  two  miles,  much  of  which  is  sandy 
and  unridable.  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 
milenand-a-quarter  beyond  the  Devil's  Hole  (this  is  a  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  the  hole) ;  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,  I 
drove  it  westward  for  a  mile  over  a  neglected  military  road,  which  would  have 
brought  me  mto  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  ijo 
years  old),  and  "  the  point,"  required  me  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  a  half-mile  of  rough,  sandy,  and  hilly  road, 
leading  towards  the  north  shore,  I  felt  satisfied  that  a  return  to  Hamilton  by 
that  route  would  hardly  be  worth  while,  even  if  the  old  ferry  were  in  opera- 
tion, of  which  I  did  not  feel  confident. 

The  Middle  road  from  Hamilton  to  the  Flatts  is  a  half-mile  shorter  than 
either  of  the  other  two ;  and,  though  more  hilly  than  either,  it  is  attractive 


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 
fine  Off  five,  tall  palm-trees,  the  wheelman  must  turn  left  and  ride  up  a  half- 
mile  hill,  from  whose  sunmiit  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  joins  the  main  road, — ^its  appearance  at  the  point  of 
junction  being  that  of  a  private  lane.  A  mile  beyond  here  is  Gibbs's  Hill, 
245  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 
thence  along  the  shore,  past  the  Somerset  House  and  police  station  to  the 
horse-ferry,  a  distance  of  two-and-a-half  miles.  There  is  a  road  extending 
along  the  outside  shore  of  the  island,  for  about  ten  miles,  from  Somerset 
Bridge  to  a  point  opposite  Hamilton,  and  it  is  very  nearly  parallel,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  a  quarter  or  a  third  of  a  mile,  to  the  highway  which  we  traversed ; 


362  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

but  it  was  said  to  be  generally  sandy  and  impracticable  for  a  bicycle,  and  so 
we  made  no  attempt  to  explore  it.  In  the  wooded  heights  of  Fainiio«mt» 
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  registered  142  miles  in  Bermuda,  distributed  as  follows : 
Sunday,  12;  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  night 
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  wheeling  in 
company.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  fifth  and  final  day,  he  saw  his  bicyde 
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  anchorage  beyond  the  reef  in  Grassy  Bay.  In 
apprehension  of  possible  accident  during  those  final  hours,  I  warned  my  com- 
panion  that,  in  case  I  should  fail  to  catch  the  mail-boat,  it  would  be  his  duty 
to  send  back  my  baggage,  and  as  much  cash  as  he  could  spare,  in  order  to 
keep  me  comfortable  during  the  fortnight  which  would  elapse  before  the 
sailing  of  the  next  homeward  steamer. 

The  narrowness  with  which  I  escaped  such  accident  formed  the  most 
exciting  incident  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 
Langton  (which  I  somehow  failed  to  prefer)  was  known  as  a  good  mile-and- 
a-half.  Whatever  the  actual  distance  might  prove  to  be  when  calmly  meas- 
ured in  a  less  desperate  crisis,  that  final  spin  of  mine,  *'  along  the  coial 
reefs  of  Bermuda,"  seemed  the  longest  two  miles  of  the  entire  10,000  over 
which  my  *'  No.  234  "  had  carried  me.  For  the  first  time  in  my  experience,  I 
rode  *'as  fast  as  I  could."  I  devoted  my  entire  force  and  energy  to  the 
one  endeavor  of  speedily  ''getting  there."  My  mind  dwelt  angrily  upon  the 
various  troubles  and  perplexities  which  would  result  from  suddenly  "getting 
left "  for  a  fortnight  upon  an  island  having  no  connection  with  the  world  that 
I  belonged  to,  until  it  really  seemed  that  I  was  "  riding  for  my  life."  In 
the  midst  of  this  exciting  chase,  before  I  had  turned  away  from  the  shore. 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA, 


363 


tiff  giot  within  a  mile  o£  the  dock,  a  sand>rut  gave  me  a  violent  header, — 
tJie  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^ev^r,  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 
posh  off  till  twenty  minutes  afterwards.  Life  in  Bermuda  is  a  matter  of 
such  infinite  leisure  that  even  the  post-office  people  seem  to  resent  the  tyranny 
of  dodcs  and  schedules !  Even  the  '*  Mo-oiwiy-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  sadden  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 
tempted  me  to  sleep  on  deck  in  the  moonlight,  during  the  first  night  of  the  re- 
turn voyage, — though  my  slumber  was  not  profound  after  a  rat  had  once 
interrupted  it  by  running  across  my  face.  A  bench  in  the  smoking-room  sup- 
plied my  couch  on  the  second  night,  which  was  a  stormy  one ;  while  the  bitter 
cold  of  the  third  night  drove  me  to  my  own  proper  state-room,  and  made  its 
air  endurable  in  spite  of  the  **  inside  "  position.  This  room  was  an  excep- 
tionally large  one,  but,  for  a  man  who  values  *'  outer  ventilation  "  as  much 
as  I  do,  it  was  the  very  "  last  choice  "  in  the  ship.  My  misfortune  in  getting 
assigned  to  it  resulted  from  this  :  that  when  I  bought  a  round-trip  ticket,  two 
months  in  advance,  and  selected  a  most  comfortable  upper-deck  room,  I  as- 
sumed that  the  same  was  assured  to  me  for  the  return  voyage  also.     A 


364  2r£"iV  THOUSAND  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  days'  absence  from  New  York.  I 
know  of  no  other  way  in  which  the  expencjiture  of  so  little  time  and  mon^ 
can  "  give  to  the  inhabitants  of  that  city  so  genuine  a  taste  of  '  a  foreign 
atmosphere,'  or  so  good  a  view  of  the  contrasts  wl^ich  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  plungjcs  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  crosscurrents  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-«ickness  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 
Y&nkee  "  rage  for  improvement "  may  have  put  an  end  to  that  delightfollj 
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  keejMng  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  insokst 
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,"  without  making  any  fuss  about  it 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA.  365 

It  "vras  a  thing  simply  taken  for  granted ;  an  entire  matter  of  course.  I  recall, 
as  a  pleasantly  novel  civility,  their  salutation  of  '*  good  night  I  '*  (just  as  we 
say  **  good  morning  I ")  when  I  sped  past  them,  in  the  dusk  or  the  moon- 
light, on  that  first  Sunday  evening  ashore.  I  recall,  too,  the  picturesque  ap- 
pearance of  a  group  of  colored  school-children,  ranged  along  the  glistening 
road  in  the  order  of  their  size,  who  gazed  with  admiring  silence  upon  the 
white-clad  white  man  from  America,  silently  sliding  past  them  on  his  silver 
wheel.  I  remember,  too,  the  impression  of  age  and  solidify  and  perfection 
and  permanence  given  to  my  mind  by  the  deep-cut  roads  through  the  rocks. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  work  had  been  done  centuries  ago,  for  no  scars  of  it  re- 
mained, and  the  weather-darkened  surfaces  of  these  soft  coral  cliffs,  overhung 
with  cedars  and  vines  and  oleanders,  suggested  a  flint-like  hardness  of 
structure  which  idealized  the  road-builders  into  very  heroes  of  perseverance. 
But  most  of  all  I  remember  the  loquot  I 

Be  it  known,  then,  that  the  loquot  is  a  pear-shaped  fruit,  growing  in 
yellow  clusters,  which  make  the  tree  extremely  attractive  to  the  eye,  and 
that  its  delicacy  of  structure  is  such  that  it  begins  to  decay  within  less  than  a 
dozen  hours  from  the  time  of  plucking.  Hence,  though  the  best  of  all  the 
other  innumerable  fruits  and  vegetables  which  Bermuda  produces  are  mar- 
keted in  New  York,  and  should  be  sought  there  rather  than  on  the  islands, 
the  loquot  cannot  be  exported!  No  Yankee  can  hope  to  delight  his 
palate  with  its  matchless  flavor  unless  he  first  crosses  the  Gulf  Stream! 
Perhaps  it  is  because  of  my  own  superiority  to  sea-sickness  that  I  extol  the 
loquot  as  supplying  in  itself  full  compensation  for  a  three  days'  voyage. 
But  certainly  I  liked  the  loquot  I  had  to  like  it.  There  is  a  sort  of  sub- 
tle toothsomeness,  or  fineness  of  flavor,  about  the  fruit,  which  is  inde- 
scribably delicious.  **  They're  good^  the  loquots  are,"  as  my  companion  said, 
with  a  tone  of  heartfelt  emphasis,  not  indicated  by  the  simple  words,  when 
he  sadly  threw  into  Grassy  Bay  the  pits  of  the  last  handful  which  I  had 
hrought  out  to  him  in  the  mail-boat;  "there's  no  sort  of  doubt  about  the 
loquots!"  There  may  well  be  a  doubt,  however,  as  to  the  accuracy  of  my 
careless  suggestion  about  their  growth  being  confined  to  Bermuda ;  for  that 
was  intended  to  signify  nothing  more  than  my  own  ignorance  of  their  ex- 
istence elsewhere.  Very  likely  they  may  flourish  in  other  islands  farther 
south ;  like  Jamaica,  whither  Bermudians  have  a  chance  to  go,  once  a  month, 
by  Cunard  steamer,  which  also,  in  the. other  direction,  gives  them  a  monthly 
mail  to  Halifax.  That  city,  which  I  have  elsewhere  characterized  as 
seeming  to  me  like  a  sort  of  little  London, —  as  the  most  English-like  place 
on  the  North.  American  continent, — is  just  about  as  near,  in  sailing  distance, 
as  is  the  city  of  New  York ;  while,  as  regards  customs  and  tastes  and  sym- 
pathies, it  is  much  nearer  to  them.  In  Bermuda,  as  in  Nova  Scotia,  "  take 
the  left"  is  the  rule  of  the  road.  There  is  nothing  really  extraordinary, 
therefore,  in  the  seemingly  odd  fact  that  the  bishop  of  Newfoundland 
should  embrace  Bermuda  in  his  diocese,  making  biennial  visitations  to  the 


366  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

milder  island.  So,  too,  it  would  be  quite  in  keeping  with  the  geogn^hy  of 
the  case  to  recommend  that  a  September  wheeling  tourist  through  New- 
foundland, Cape  Breton  and  Nova  Scotia,  should  thence  prolong  his 
travels  by  taking  steamer  direct  for  the  coral  reefs  of  Bermuda.  Whidi- 
ever  route  the  traveler  may  choose,  let  me  advise  him  to  equip  himself  not 
only  with  an  abundance  of  clothing  suitable  for  summer  and  winter,  bot 
also  with  all  the  attainable  literature  relating  to  the  scene  of  his  visit.  The 
old-time  guide  is  the  '*  Bermuda  Pocket  Almanac  "  (issued  annually  from 
the  office  of  the  Royal  GaMeitg,.aikd  costing  half  a  dollar),  which  contains 
tables  of  roads  and  distances,  amid  numerous  other  statistics,  and  which 
renders  them  all  intelligible  by  exhibiting  on  its  cover  a  map  of  the  islands^ 
drawn  upon  a  scale  of  three  miles  to  the  inch.  A  much  larger  and  more 
clearly  drawn  map,  printed  in  colors,  is  appended  to  Mrs.  Dorr's  recently 
issued  volume,^  which  every  visitor  to  the  islands  should  have  in  his 
pocket;  though  the  littler  map  of  the  "Almanac"  gives  to  the  wheehnana 
completer  showing  of  the  roads. 

A  new  guides-book,^  in  the  field  which  this  ancient  annual  has  hitherto 
monopolized,  presents  still  a  third  map, —  larger  than  either  of  the  otheis, 
and  in  many  respects  more  useful  to  the  explorer, —  though  it  fails  to  show 
the  road  leading  to  the  Flatts  from  the  Wesleyan  chapel  on  the  south  shore, 
and  also  the  road  directly  connecting  Christ  church  with  the  north  shore.  A 
"process"  reproduction  of  the  rude  old  maps  and  pictures  which  were  pre- 
pared, centuries  ago,  by  order  of  the  immortal  Captain  John  Smith,— who 
was  the  earliest  guide-book-maker  for  this  microscopic  speck  of  the  westera 
world, — is  another  praiseworthy  feature  in  the  work  of  his  latest  imitator. 
Its  distinctive  value,  however,  consists  in  the  series  of  sixteen  **  photo- 
prints," which  have  power  to  give  to  the  mind  of  a  stranger  a  far  better  idea 
of  the  peculiar  beauties  of  Bermuda,  than  volumes  of  descriptive  writiBg 
could  afford,  and  which  recall  those  beauties,  with  a  pleasing  degree  of  vivid- 
ness, to  the  mind  of  the  home-returned  visitor.  The  scenes  which  I  myself 
saw  are  here  preserved  exactly  as  I  saw  them, —  the  author's  visit  having  pre- 
ceded my  own  by  only  a  few  weeks, — for  he  says:  "The  photographs  were 
taken  by  me,  on  gelatine  dry  plates,  during  the  months  of  January  and 
February,  1884,  and  the  prints  were  made  from  these  negatives  by  the  Photo- 
Electrotype  Company,"  of  which  he  happens  to  be  the  president.  The  letter- 
press contains  about  all  the  customary,  cut-and-dried  information  which  a 
casual  tourist  is  supposed  to  need;  and,  if  such  tourist  be  a  bicycler,  his 
desire  for  lightness  and  portability  will  doubtless  impel  him  to  offer  the 
criticism   that  "it  contains  too  much  information," — that  if  the  historical 


1 "  Benmida,  an  Idyl  of  the  Sanmier  Idands,"  by  Mn.  Jolia  C  R.  Dorr,  tamo,  pp.  ijo, 
price  $1.35  (New  York  :  Scribner's  Sons,  1884). 

>"  Ilhistrated  Bermuda  Gnide,"  by  Jamet  H.  Stark,  lamo,  pp.  157  (and  whrertbu^  pp.  35)t 
price  fa.oo  (Boston  :  Photo-Electrotype  Co.,  1884). 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA.  367 

third  of  it  had  heen  omitted,  and  if  the  weight  of  the  remainder  had  been  still 
farther  reduced  by  the  use  of  thinner  paper,  the  book  would  have  a  better 
chance  of  finally  supplanting  in  his  affections  that  very  manageable  old  blue- 
covered  stand-by,  the  rightly-named  ''Bermuda  Pocket  Almanac."  Such 
criticism  would  seem  to  me  sound  enough,  but  the  best  practical  remedy  in 
the  case  is  for  the  bicycler  to  buy  both  books,  even  though  he  cycles  with 
only  one  of  them.  I  myself  certainly  hate  to  see  a  modern  guide-book 
padded  out  by  the  plunder  which  a  drag-net  may  be  made  to  yield  from  the 
stores  of  ancient  history,  and  yet,  as  I  am  a  loyal  son  of  Massachusetts,  I 
feel  bound  to  forgive  the  sinner  in  the  present  case,  because,  being  a 
Bostonian,  he  humanly  yielded  to  the  temptation  of  telling  people  the  story 
of  how  little  Bermuda  helped  the  great  George  Washington  to  ^  drive  the 
British  out  of  Boston."  It  was  by  means  of  a  ship-load  of  gunpowder,  of 
which  the  besiegers  stood  in  the  direst  need,  and  which  the  Bermudians  stole 
for  them  from  a  government  storehouse.  So  remote  in  those  days  was  the 
island  from  having  its  present  chpacter  of  a  fortified  stronghold,  and  so 
poorly  guarded  was  the  government  powder-magazine,  that  the  responsibility 
of  the  theft  was  never  fixed  upon  anyone,  though  there  was  naturally  an  out- 
burst of  wrath  in  *' official  circles"  when  their  sleepy  limits  were  finally  pene- 
trated by  ''news  from  Boston,"  disclosing  the  ultimate  use  to  which  the 
mysteriously  missing  gunpowder  had  been  put. 

^  We  have  not  been  quite  everywhere,  yet.  But  one  thing  we  are  all 
agreed  upon :  nowhere  have  we  found  within  the  compass  of  nineteen  square 
miles  so  much  that  was  novel,  beautiful,  and  interesting,  with  such  air  and 
such  sunshine,  and  such  peace,  as  we  have  found  just  here."  Such  was  the 
testimony  of  some  widely-traveled  acquaintances  which  Mrs.  Dorr  presents 
as  best  reflecting  the  personal  impressions  which  she  has  endeavored  to  em- 
body in  her  "  book  of  Bermudian  days " ;  and  such  shall  be  my  testimony, 
also,  as  I  recommend  her  pleasantly-written  little  volume  to  those  who  seek 
the  islands.  I  mildly  suggest  to  them,  however,  that  the  dreamy  poetry  of 
the  place  may  have  led  the  lady  to  idealize  beyond  the  recognizable  point 
some  of  the  prosaic  discomforts  of  existence  there ;  just  as  it  led  certain 
masculine  witnesses,  whom  I  have  quoted,  to  report  that  tUl  the  roads  are 
perfectly  hard  and  smooth  of  surface,  and  perfectly  gentle  as  regards  their 
slopes.  There  are  fleas  in  Bermuda,  let  me  sadly  say,  and  they  bite  as 
remorselessly  as  if  dwelling  in  less  poetic  climes.  I  do  not  like  the  fleas ;  but 
theloquots  I  do  like.  And  it  is  as  the  Land  of  the  Incomparable  Loquot 
that  I  shall  always  cherish  the  Bermudas  in  my  dreams  ! 

"  So,  in  this  wintry  weather, 

Were  we  rich,  we'd  go  together, 
Sailing  far  o'er  distant  oceans,  and  among  the  dreamy  isles ; 

But  those  queer,  outlandish  places 

Win  find,  this  year,  no  traces 
Of  the  white^Iad  cyder,  Karl  Kron,  where  he  wheeled  those  happy  miles." 


368  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  did  not  enclose  my  bicyde  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  id  In  the  innocence  of  my  heart  I  supposed  that, 
"  the  bicycle  being  entitled  to  free  entry  because  of  American  manufacture," 
I  should  be  allowed  to  mount  it  at  the  dock  and  ride  right  up  home  to 
Washington  Square.  But  the  **  deputy  surveyor  "—as  the  lordly  creature  was 
called  who  happened  to  be  in  command  of  this  particular  gang  of  custouH 
house  mercenaries — asserted  his  authority  to  the  contrary;  and,  though  know- 
ing perfectly  well  that  the  machine  was  American,  and  that  I  had  embarked 
with  it  from  the  same  dock  only  ten  days  before,  he  ordered  it  to  be  ^seat  to 
the  Public  Stores  for  appraisement."  The  same  order  was  issued  concerning 
the  crated  machine  of  my  companion,  accompanied  by  the  assurance  that,  as 
this  was  of  English  make,  a  duty  of  35  per  cent,  would  certainly  be  levied 
upon  it|  in  spite  of  that  duty  having  once  been  regularly  paid  when  the  bicycle 
was  first  imported  into  America.  We  sought  out  the  Public  Stores,  next 
morning,  and  thought  ourselves  singularly  fortunate  in  meeting  there  with  an 
affable  official  gentleman,  who  sympathized  with  our  troubles,  because  his  own 
son  had  been  touring  by  wheel  in  Europe,  and  who  endorsed  our  *'  papers," 
with  the  request  that  the  "deputy  appraiser,"  to  whose  official  keeping  the 
bicycles  had  been  consigned,  would  **  make  the  appraisal  informal,'*  and  so 
let  us  take  them  away  without  additional  bother.  When  we  finally  readied 
the  presence  of  that  functionary,  however,  after  various  delays  for  the  wind- 
ing of  red  tape  at  the  desks  of  several  of  his  underlings,  he  grufily  said  that 
he  should  exercise  no  discretion  in  the  matter,  but  should  formally  enter  both 
machines  for  the  custom-house,  and  that  the  one  of  English  make  would  have 
to  pay  duty.  The  reason  why  he,  like  the  "  deputy  surveyor  "  on  the  dock, 
refused  to  pass  my  own  bicycle,  which  he  knew  was  "  entitled  to  free  entry," 
was  presumably  his  desire  to  force  me  to  employ  a  "custom-house  broker" 
to  attend  to  the  intricate  and  exasperating  formalities  exacted  by  castom> 
house  regulations,  even  in  a  case  of  "free  entry."  The  usually  accepted 
theory  of  the  matter  is,  that  these  private  brokers  pay  to  the  government 
officers  a  certain  percentage  of  the  fees  derived  from  each  traveler  whom  the 
officers  deliver  into  their  hands ;  and  that,  imless  he  directly  bribes  the  latter 
to  take  a  lenient  view  of  the  law,  they  will  use  the  authority  which  a  harsh  in- 
terpretation of  it  gives  them  to  revenge  themselves  by  "  sending  his  case 
through  the  custom-house."  If  the  traveler  wishes  to  leave  the  city  on  the 
day  of  landing,  such  act  of  the  officer  on  the  dock  simply  forces  the  emplo]^ 
ment  of  a  broker,  because  "  the  papers  in  the  case  "  cannot  reach  the  custom- 
house for  one  or  two  days  afterwards. 

Having  wasted  a  good  share  of  one  forenoon  in  following  my  "  papers  " 
through  the  hands  of  a  half-dozen  official  persons,  in  as  many  different  rooms 
of  the  Public  Stores,  only  to  gain  from  the  last  one  the  surly  assurance  that 


THE  CORAL  REEFS  OF  BERMUDA,  369 

(instead  of  atoning  to  the  best  o£  his  ability  for  the  inconvenience  so  wan- 
tonly inflicted  upon  me  by  the  unjust  decision  of  the  officer  upon  the  dock) 
**  Ixe  would  send  me  through  the  custom-house,  anyhow,"  I  decided  to  '*  go 
through"  in  person,  instead  of  allowing  myself  to  be  fleeced  by  a  broker.  It 
w^ould  have  been  more  logical,  of  course,  to  have  paid  in  money  the  penalty 
which  the  United  States  Government  thus  permitted  its  representatives  to  in- 
flict upon  me  for  the  high  crime  and  misdemeanor  of  taking  my  wheel  to 
Bermuda  for  a  ten  days*  outing ;  but  I  preferred  to  pay  the  penalty  with  my 
body,  rather  than  allow  the  "  deputy  surveyor  "  and  the  "  deputy  appraiser  " 
to  gain  their  expected  "divvy"  of  the  brokerage  which  they  designed  to  ex- 
tort from  me.  On  Thursday,  therefore,  I  spent  two  solid  hours  inside  the 
custom-house,  engaged  in  unwinding  the  red  tape  with  which  the  process  of 
"  free  entry  "  had  completely  covered  my  bicycle.  This  implied  no  less  than 
a  dozen  distinct  operations,  before  seven  different  officers,  occupying  four 
separate  apartments,  on  different  floors  of  the  building,  and  the  payment  of 
sixty-four  cents  to  the  United  States  of  America  for  the  enforced  use  of  its 
Public  Stores.  An  order  on  the  keeper  of  the  same  was  finally  given  to  me, 
and  this,  when  I  presented  it  there,  went  through  the  hands  of  two  more  offi- 
cial people  before  the  last  of  them  trundled  my  "  No.  234  "  out  into  the  free 
light  of  day,  and  accorded  me  full  authority  to  ride  off  with  it. 

The  assistance  of  no  less  than  twenty  representatives  of  the  National 
Circumlocution  Office  had  thus  been  needed  to  purge  my  beloved  bicycle  of 
the  taint  attaching  to  it  in  consequence  of  ten  days*  absence  from  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  United  States  Government,  and  thus  to  confer  upon  that  bicycle 
the  inestimable  blessing  of  a  "  free  entry."  Had  the  entry  been  subject  to 
fkity,  the  process  would  have  been  no  longer  or  more  complicated ;  and  I 
have  taken  pains  thus  to  exhibit  in  detail  the  atrocities  of  the  regulations  then 
existing,  in  order  that  wheelmen  may  approximately  realize  how  great  a  boon 
was  conferred  upon  every  traveler,  native  or  foreign,  who  enters  a  United 
States  port  with  his  wheel,  as  an  ultimate  result  of  my  visit  to  Bermuda.  The 
companion  who  persuaded  me  into  this  visit  early  abandoned  the  idea  of  it, 
and  only  resumed  his  original  intention,  at  the  last  minute,  on  learning  that  I 
was  to  "  go  anyhow."  Knowing  that  his  machine  had  paid  duty  on  its  origi- 
nal importation  from  England  he  **  kicked  "  against  the  idea  of  submitting  to 
a  second  tax  of  the  sort  when  we  returned  from  our  brief  visit  to  the  little 
English  province,  lying  there  in  the  ocean,  only  700  m.  from  New  York.  The 
custom-house  people  assured  us  that  all  previous  "kickers"  against  this 
absurdly  unjust  ruling  of  the  Treasury  Department  had  finally  swallowed 
their  rage  and  paid  the  double-duty ;  and  that  so  many  precedents  had  now 
grown  up  about  the  rule  as  to  make  any  attempt  on  our  part  to  persuade  the 
Secretary  of  the  Treasury  to  overturn  it  utterly  foolish  and  hopeless.  "  Car- 
riages are  not  personal  nor  household  effects,  and  can  only  be  admitted  to 
free  entry  when  used  by  an  immigrant  in  the  act  of  immigration : "  such  was 
the  rule  which  the  customs  men  proudly  pointed  to  as  giving  an  irrevocable 


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")  haying 
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  effects, 
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  determination  to  include  a  chapter  of  Bermudian  experiences  in  **  Ten  Thoii> 
sand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle/'  this  triumph  of  justice  and  civilization  might  have  been  postpooed  for 
several  years  longer ;  and  I  should  therefore  think  the  chapter  incomplete  if  it  did  ooC  oontaD 
a  full  account  of  this  triumph,  and  did  not  uige  every  American  ^eelman  who  reads  it  to  Per- 
ish a  grateful  recollection  of  the  honest  judge,  so  recently  dead,  who  brought  this  trinn^ih  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  maoifesled 
in  his  righteous  decision  of  "the  Bermuda  bicyde  case.*'  I  want  them  to  remember  bin  as  a 
man  whose  strong  sense  of  justice  gave  him  the  vision  to  see  through  all  the  aophistriet  of  "  pRce- 
dent "  and  get  a  firm  grip  on  the  ultimate  truth  (incomprehensible  though  it  be  to  the  m^ii^-Kiig^^ 
of  the  custom-house)  that,  "  in  this  democratic  government  of  ours,  nothing  is  ever  really  settled 
which  is  not  settled  rights  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  io  the  httrts 
of  cyclers  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  manlineis  m 
recognizing  the  truth  that  the  removal  of  injustioe  from  any  dass  of  dtizens  (no  noatter  bow  few, 
or  young,  or  humble,  or  uninfluential,  they  are  presumed  to  be)  ought  never  to  be  conadered  too 
trivial  or  undignified  an  act  for  even  the  highest  officer  of  the  government  to  take  interest  in.  So. 
I  say  S4;ain,  "  let  lasting  honor  be  attadied  to  the  names  of  the  four  men  who  so  proopdy 
brought  about  the  great  reform ;  who  persuaded  the  United  States  to  cease  playing  the  part  d  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  port,  after 
another  visit  to  '  the  blessed  isles  of  Bermuda.' " 


XXVI. 

BULL  RUN,  LURAY  CAVERN  AND  GETTYSBURG,  i 

Washington  having  been  chosen  as  the  place  for  the  fifth  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 
disfiigured  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  ift  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  12  or  8,  a  long-drawn-out  column  of  ill-arranged  and  parti-colored 
paraders  straggled  through  the  streets,  by  twos  and  fours  (May  20,  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  efiicicnt  police  protection  for  the  wheelmen's  procession,  against  the  dis- 
astrous intrusion  of  an  entirely  orderly  and  good-natured  crowd  of  lookers-on ; 
and  it  is  a  matter  of  recent  history  that  when  400  local  cyclers  endeavored  to 
enliven  an  autumn  evening  in  that  solemn  city,  by  a  "lantern  parade"  (Oct. 
22,  '85),  a  ruffianly  and  ill-natured  crowd  amused  themselves  by  hurling 
missiles  at  the  lanterns  and  upsetting  the  riders,  until  at  last  the  police  ap- 
peared on  the  scene  and  summarily  dragged  off  to  the  station-house  a  quiet 
citizen  who  had  courageously  defended  the  luckless  wheelmen  against  one  of 

>The  fint  part  ol  this  is  from  Tht  S^ringJUld  WhMimtnU  OuttU,  Jauauy,  1886. 


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  realtj 
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-leaden 
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.,  \\  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  corner.  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  Militarr 
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  L  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  Brandywine  into  Wilmington,  just  7  m.  after  entering 
the  State,  and  halted  J  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  Perryville  (Havre  de  Grace)  was  level  but  very  sandy, 
and  advised  me  to  try  the  hillier  route,  and  cross  the  Susquehanna  by  ferry 
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 J  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 
ij  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 J  m.,  was  reached  at  noon,  and  i  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  I.,  and  then,  after  passing  a 
bridge  about  i  m.  out,  t.  r.  The  road  gradually  improved  as  I  drew  near  a 
cros»-roads  called  Level,  5  m.  from  the  river,  at  6  o'clock,  where  I  1. 1.  with 
the  telegraph  poles,  and  enjoyed,  oh  a  level  of  i  m.  or  so,  my  first  good  riding 
of  the  day.  At  Church ville,  3 J  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  5J  m.  to  Bel  Air,  at  7.45.  There  I  t.  r.,  and 
reached  the  hotel,  after  riding  a  few  rods  on  r.  sidewalk ;  but,  if  I  had  t.  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 
ij  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  5J  m.,  when  I  reached  the  cobble  stones  in  the  outskirts  of  Balti- 
more, at  1045 »  ^^^  ^^  2*  "^*  ^o  *^^^  point  might  have  been  done  without 
dismount.  Turning  r.  along  Boundary  av.  to  Fillmore  St.,  I  went  1.  on  its 
dag-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 
City,  4i  m.  on  (see  p.  349),  I  halted  i  h.  for  lunch,  and  then,  between  2.20  and 
240,  wheeled  up  a  hill  i  J  m.  long,  except  its  steepest  pitch  of  two  rods,  at 
about  the  middle  point.  The  course  beyond  proved  continuously  hilly;  and 
1  t.  r.  at  a  cross-roads  on  a  hill-top,  and  at  4.35  reached  a  cross-roads  store 
called  Clarksville,  9  m.  from  E.  C.  The  next  5i  m.  ended  at  a  certain  private 
house  in  the  hamlet  of  Ashton,  where  a  previous  tourist  had  told  me  it  would 


374  ^^^  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  6.50,  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.  Thence 
along  the  gas  lighted  asphalt  of  Ninth  and  H  sts.  to  Twentieth,  \\m^ 
where  I  found  my  clean  clothes  awaiting  me  at  10.15.  My  day's  record  was 
65}  m.,  as  compared  to  35  m.  of  the  previous  day ;  and  my  5  days'  ride  from 
N.  Y.  (Hoboken  Ferry)  to  W.  measured  just  240  m. 

The  bright  sunshine  and  hot  air  of  that  final  day  were  tempered  some- 
what by  a  gentle  breeze,  which  was  generally  in  my  face ;  but  the  weather  of 
the  next  3  days,  while  I  tarried  in  Washington,  was  extremely  hot  and  sticky, 
with  heavy  evening  showers  which  gave  no  life  to  the  atmosphere.  The  43 
m.  which  I  registered  during  that  visit  probably  represented  15  m.  of  new 
road,  15m.  of  new-direction  riding,  and  13  m.  of  repetitions;  and  I  was  sur- 
prised on  the  evening  of  the  first  day,  when  I  took  my  first  look  at  Batcher 
cyclometer,  whose  action  had  hitherto  given  me  no  reason  for  distrust,  to  find 
only  7i  m.  recorded,  though  I  vaguely  believed  that  I  had  been  jogging  about 
the  asphalt  for  2  or  3  h.  altogether.  For  the  next  600  m.,  however,  it  seemed 
to  run  accurately,  until  it  stuck  at  the  1,000  m.  point,  as  described  on  p.  147. 
At  4.30  A.  M.  of  May  25,  just  before  daybreak,  and  after  less  than  6  h.  of  sleep, 

1  left  the  St.  Marc  Hotel,  which  had  given  me  pleasant  shelter  for  3  days  and 
nights,  and  began  a  tiresome  journey  of  48  m.,  which  ended  about  9  p.  H.  at 
the  Warren  Green  Hotel  in  Warrenton.  My  real  start  was  made  at  5.15,  at 
the  house  of  the  President  of  the  Washington  Cycle  Club,  1}  m.  from  the 
hotel,  where,  after  rousing  him  from  slumber,  I  had  a  chance  to  munch  some 
crackers  and  cheese,  moistened  with  oranges,  before  my  escort  gave  the  word 
to  mount.  We  crossed  Georgetown  Bridge,  into  Virginia,  2}  m.,  at  5.40,  and 
at  once  t  r.  and  climbed  hills  pretty  steadily,  on  winding  and  difiicult  bat 
usually  ridable  roads,  till  we  reached  the  brick  house  in  Falls  Church,  &^  dl, 
at  6.55,  and  halted  \  h.  for  some  milk.  Fairfax  Court  House,  8(  m.,  was 
reached  in  2  h. ;  and,  while  my  comrade  arranged  to  get  some  breakfast  there, 
before  starting  backward  for  Alexandria,  I  pushed  on  alone  at  10.10,  and 
reached  Centerville,  7  m.,  in  2  h.  This  was  approached  by  a  rough  hill,  \  o. 
long,  from  whose  top  (along  which  stretched  a  line  of  the  earthworks,  thrown 
up  in  war  time)  I  got  my  first  sight  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  On  the  descent,  I 
twisted  to  the  r.,  and  then  soon  again  to  the  1.,  whence  the  old  pike  goes  in  a 
bee  line  to  Warrenton.  Rotten  red-sandstone,  of  which  an  excellent  road 
might  easily  be  made,  is  abundant,  all  along  here;  and  I  found  it  ridable  for 

2  m.,  to  the  bridge  over  Cub  Run,  which  I  reached  at  1.30, — ^having  made  a 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG.    375 

long  hait  on  the  way  to  chat  with  a  talkative  native.  He  had  heard  the  can- 
nonade in  the  opening  Sunday  battle  of  the  civil  war,  23  years  before,  while 
piously  turning  a  grindstone  to  sharpen  a  big  bowie  knife  for  a  trooper,  who 
then  galloped  away  with  it  in  the  direction  of  the  noise ;  and  he  had  seen  a 
good  deal  of  the  second  Bull  Run  battle,  from  the  safe  lookout  of  a  lofty 
tree ;  and  he  described  to  me  various  military  evolutions  which  he  had  wit- 
nessed upon  this  same  broad  sweep  of  rolling  grass-land  that  we  were  now 
lazily  looking  at  in  the  summer  sunshine. 

Stone  parapets  surmounting  a  double-culvert  characterize  the  bridge  over 
the  historic  Bull  Run,  which  is  2J  m.  beyond  Cub  Run.  I  had  spent  \  h.  in 
doing  the  distance,  and  as  I  halted  here  a  while,  to  eat  a  few  apples  for  lunch, 
I  called  clearly  to  mind  another  pleasant  Sunday  afternoon  of  my  boyhood — 
July  21,  1861 — when  I  "  wondered  if  the  expected  battle  had  begun,"  and 
when  in  reality  men  were  fighting  and  falling  around  this  self-same  brook  and 
bridge.  An  h.  later,  at  a  clump  of  houses  called  Groveton,  I  was  shown  the 
marks  made  by  musketry  in  the  walls ;  and  I  also  noticed  that  the  flower-bed 
borders  were  formed  from  fragments  of  shell  from  the  adjoining  battle-field 
of  '62.  A  negro,  who  saw  part  of  this  fight,  described  to  me  the  appearance 
of  things  after  it  was  over ;  and  he  also  gave  me  a  rifle  bullet  which  he  had 
plowed  up,  the  previous  Friday,  "  along  wid  a  couple  of  carcasses  **  (soldiers* 
skeletons)  which  he  "  frew  inter  de  fence."  At  5  o'clock,  I  had  got  6\  m. 
beyond  Bull  Run  to  Gainesville,  which  has  a  r.  r.  station  and  a  "  store,** 
whose  proprietor  talked  with  me  about  his  war  experiences,  for  \  h.,  while  I 
drank  some  milk,  and  offered  to  give  me  a  bed  for  the  night.  I  preferred  to 
push  on,  however,  and  by  7  o'clock,  just  before  darkness  closed  in,  had  ad- 
vanced 5  m.,  to  a  certain  hill-top,  where  I  secured  another  drink  of  milk,  my 
last  nourishment  on  the  journey.  This  hill  was  just  beyond  Buckland,  where 
a  ford,  three  rods  wide,  forced  me  to  go  up  stream  about  ten  times  that  dis- 
tance and  there  drag  my  bicycle  across,  on  slippery  rocks  and  logs,  with  a 
torrent  rushing  below.  From  this  point  to  Warrenton,  8  m.,  the  hills  suc- 
ceeded each  other  closely,  and  water  ran  across  the  road  in  each  depression 
between  them.  The  last  three  streams,  which  I  crossed  in  pitchy  darkness, 
were  bordered  with  a  rod  or  two  of  deep,  red  clay  mud,  owing  to  a  heavy 
shower  which  had  raged  in  that  region,  the  previous  night.  I  sank  nearly 
half  way  to  my  knees  in  this  terrible  stuff,  and  got  my  wheel  completely 
smeared  and  clogged  with  it,  though  my  white  breeches  escaped  serious  dis- 
figurement. Somehow,  I  managed  to  clamber  across  these  sloughs,  on  the 
fences,  without  really  dropping  into  the  water ;  and  from  the  last  and  worst  of 
them,  where  my  cyclometer  presumably  stuck,  I  tramped  wearily  in  for  i  m.  to 
the  hotel.  It  was  about  10  o'clock  when  I  finished  supper,  which  was  the  first 
food  of  any  account  that  I  had  that  day ;  and  I  then  worked  till  midnight 
getting  my  bicycle  into  approximately  decent  condition.  Considering  the 
badness  of  the  last  30  m.,  this  day's  journey  of  48  m.  ranks  among  my  most 
notable  ones;  and  the  incident  of  floundering  through  the  mud,  in  the  pitchy 


376  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

darkness,  when  tired  and  weak  and  hungry,  was  not  exactly  exhilarating. 
Most  of  the  day's  scenery  was  flat  and  unattractive,  though  the  broad  fields 
where  yellow  flowers  waved  peacefully  in  the  sunshine  gave  a  sort  of  plestsirg 
sense  of  remoteness  to  the  thought  of  those  times  of  "  blood  and  iron  "  which 
once  laid  them  waste.    (For  relation  of  Warrenton  to  other  towns,  see  p.  350.) 

My  companion  thus  reports  his  return :  "  I  found  a  good  road  from  Fairfax  to  Vienna, 
about  8  m.,  and  stopped  there  from  11.40  to  12.30.  Thence  to  Falls  Church,  about  5  m.,  vas  a 
magnificent  road, — called  the  Leesbuig  pike,  I  think, — ^but  the  people  said  that  my  bi.  was  ibe 
first  one  they  had  ever  seen  roll  along  it.  I  made  the  run  £rom  F.  C.  to  Georgetown  in  just  i  h., 
ending  at  5  p.  m.,  and  my  day's  record  was  36]  m.  I  may  add  that  the  tow-path  from  G.  to 
Alexandria,  about  8  m .,  is  good,  and  that  the  road  thence  for  8  m.  to  Mt.  Vernon,  the  tomb  of 
Washington,  is  decently  good  in  certain  weathers.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  road  from  A. 
to  Fairfax  Court  House,  12  m.  n. ;  and  the  direct  tour  from  A.  to  Staunton  has  been  ma&  by 
bicycle,  though  I  never  learned  the  details  of  it."  Another  Washington  correspondent,  W.  F. 
Grossman,  of  the  Capital  B.  C,  adds  the  following  (March  9,  '84):  *'  Our  suburban  zidisg  is 
not  quite  as  limited  as  the  remarks  in  your  Springfield  chapter  (p.  1 16)  would  seem  to  ms^y ; 
for  there  are  at  least  three  pikes  leading  out  of  the  city  on  which  an  average  nder  can  go  straight- 
away for  a  dozen  m.  without  a  dismount,  and  on  two  of  them  a  good  rider  need  not  stop  for  18  m. 
or  20  m., — assuming  dry  weather,  of  course.  The  trouble  is  tlyit,  beyond  ao  m.  or  so,  they 
become  so  poor  as  to  remind  one  of  what  you  say  of  the  roads  near  the  Mammoth  Cave  (p.  23 1^ 
and  hence  do  not  tempt  one  into  touring  further.  Yet  the  fact  is  worth  insisting  upon  that,  for 
these  20  m.,  our  three  best  turnpikes  are  mostly  in  very  good  condition  from  March  to  Novem> 
ber,  and  often  ridable  during  the  other  three  months.  The  s.  e.  one,  across  the  Nav7  Yard 
Bridge,  is  of  hard  clay,  which  when  packed  makes  as  fine  a  road  as  your  Boulevard  from  Central 
Park  to  Yonkers.  The  second-best  leads  to  Great  Falls,  on  the  Potomac,  26  m., — of  ti-Wdi 
the  first  9  m.  to  Cabin  John  Bridge  is  very  smooth,  and  mostly  level,  though  there  are  two 
rather  steep  hills.  The  third  outlet,  called  the  Seventh  st.  pike,  leads  due  n.  through  Br^bt- 
wood,  4  m. ;  Silver  Spring,  3  m. ;  and  BrookviUe,  5  m.,  where  the  1.  branch  leads  to  RockviHe, 
6  m.,  and  the  r.  to  EUicott  City.  The  regular  Baltimore  pike  is  good  only  for  the  6  m.  to 
Bladensburg.  The  Alexandria  pike  is  ridable  to  Mt.  Vernon,  though  requiring  many  dis- 
mounts. Besides  these,  there  are  numerous  cross  roads,  mostly  of  clay,  which  admit  of  pleasant 
short  runs  during  eight  mouths  of  the  year.  In  fact,  though  our  suburban  roads  are  none  too  good, 
they  are  all  more  smooth  and  free  from  sand  than  those  around  East  Bridgewater  (only  24  m.  frcn 
Boston),  where  I  visited  last  summer.  Furthermore,  the  beautiful  grounds  about  our  Sddien' 
Home  contain  many  m.  of  smooth  roadway,  and  the  gentlemanly  welcome  always  extended  to 
cyclera  on  entering  the  gates  is  in  grateful  contrast  to  the  rudeness  often  shown  by  well-dressed 
hogs  upon  the  road."  Of  the  same  writer's  report  of  ride  to  Baltimore  (April  21,  '84;  94S 
A.  M.  to  6.15  p.  M. ;  50  m.),  in  company  with  C.  M.  Barrick,  I  quote  the  following  in  rcprd 
to  the  only  part  of  the  route  which  did  notcolndde  with  my  own  (p.  374)  :  "  At  the  fork  in  SKgo, 
whose  r.  is  the  Colesville  pike,  we  took  the  1.  or  Brookville  pike,  and  at  Wheaton,  10  m.  on,  we  L 
r.  at  another  fork,  and  went  along  the  Norwood  pike  9  m.  to  Sandy  Spring,  and  then  }  m.,  bearing 
round  to  r. ,  to  reach  the  Colesville  pike  at  Ashton.  Still  a  third  route  leads  from  A.  to  W. ,  and  a3 
three  of  them  are  fair  roads,— best  soon  after  a  rain.  We  took  the  longer  one  by  preference,  and 
found  two  small  streams  to  ford,  and  a  few  hills,  but  these  could  be  ridden  up,  on  account  of  barf 
surface.  Tliere  is  no  hotel  at  A.,  but  meals  and  lodging  may  be  had  at  Mr.  Stabler *s  (25  c.) ;  and 
we  took  dinner  there  before  tackling  the  6  m.  of  hills  and  rough  clay  extending  to  Clarksville,  whidi 
formed  the  worst  part  of  our  50  m.  journey  and  cost  us  i^  h."  The  route  from  A.  to  Fredcridi 
(pp.  293,  349)  he  thus  reports :  *'  On  April  27,  B.  and  I  left  W.  at  4.30  p.  m.  and  rode  to  A.  a> 
2  h.  40  min.  Starting  on  at  9  a.  m.,  we  reached  the  end  of  the  pike  at  MechanicsrHle,  si  m., 
whence  a  level  but  soft  dirt  road  took  us  to  Laytonsville,  8  m.  At  Damascus,  after  9  m.  of 
hilly  and  poorer  riding,  we  halted  i^  h.,  and  were  told  that  we  were  the  first  bicyclers  to  that 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG,    377 

town.  Two  or  three  long  and  steep  hills  were  met  on  the  next  6  m.  to  Ridgeyille,  where  we 
struck  the  regular  Baltimore  and  Frederick  pike,  on  which  we  made  good  time  for  14  m.  to  the 
City  Hotel  in  F.  at  6,— fxisaing  through  one  small  town  called  Newmarket."     (See  p.  349.) 

The  Secretary  of  the  Junior  Wheelmen  of  Baltimore  supplies  the  following  facts  (March  2, 
'84)  :  "  The  pike  from  B.  to  F.,  about  60  m.,  is  an  average  good  one,  and  of  the  numerous  hills 
not  nMve  than  4  or  5  are  unridable,— the  longest  and  steepest  being  beyond  EUicott  City,  xa  m., 
to  which  point  the  surface  is  excellent  The  distances  on  the  direct  road  to  Washington,  which 
is  a  very  poor  sandy  pike  with  occasional  red  day,  are  9  m.  to  Relay,  ay  m.  to  Laurel  and  41  m. 
to  IV.  A  good  pike  leads  from  B.  to  Westminster,  36  m.  The  first  half  of  it,  to  Reisterstown, 
goes  through  a  flat  country  and  b  always  kept  in  repair.  Beyond  R.  there  are  many  hills  too  steep 
for  riding,  and  the  surface  is  poorer.  Of  the  two  roads  from  B.  to  Bel  Air,  23  m.,  '  the  Harford  * 
and '  the  Bel  Air,*  the  latter  is  so  difficult,  both  in  surface  and  in  grades,  that  bicycles  are  rarely  seen 
upon  it,  while  the  former  offers  one  of  our  best  runs."  (I  chose  "  the  Harford,"  p.  373 ;  and  the 
Springfield  men,  named  below,  *'  the  Bel  Air,"  as  advised  in  Wood's  road-book.)  *'  The  old  pike 
from  Bait,  to  York  has  a  great  deal  of  traffic,  but  its  surface  is  kept  hard  and  smooth  by  repairs, 
and  offers  excellent  wheeling.  The  runs  to  Govanstown,  4^  m.,  and  Towson,  7  m.,  are  very 
popular,  and  are  not  interrupted  by  long  or  steep  hills.  In  fact,  there  are  none  worth  naming  on 
this  road  for  15  or  ao  m.  out  of  B.  For  a  short  spin  the  favorite  course  is  '  the  shell  road ' 
(made  of  oyster  shells  ground  to  ideal  smoothness),  which  leads  from  the  city  boundary  to  a  pop- 
ular suburban  hotel  on  the  Patapsoo,  near  its  entrance  into  Chesapeake  Bay." 

A  tour  of  514  m.,  without  much  repetition  of  roadway,  was  taken  July  4-17,  '85,  by  F.  A. 
Eldred  <b.  March  20,  1863)  and  E.  E.  Sawtell  (b.  April  7,  1865),  clerks  at  Springfield,  whose 
report  I  condense  as  follows :  "  Leaving  S.  at  4  p.  m.,  we  reached  Hartford  at  dusk,  alter  a  stop 
of  1^  h.  for  a  thunderstorm  at  Windsor  Locks.  On  the  5th,  10  a.  m.  to  7.30  p.  m.,  we  proceeded 
through  New  Britain  and  Meriden  to  New  Haven,  72  m.  from  S.,  and  took  boat  to  N.  Y.  On 
the  6th,  we  wheeled  across  Staten  Island,  from  Clifton  to  Tottenville  (roads  heavy  from  rain), 
and  then  by  fine  roads  to  Somerville,  38  m.  at  i  o'clock,  where  rain  stopped  us.  Our  route 
from  Perth  Amboy  had  led  through  Metuchen  and  New  Brunswick,  where  we  turned  and  went 
on  the  n.  side  of  the  river  to  Bound  Brook, — taking  a  spin  of  6}  m.  in  35  min.  On  the  7th 
we  were  carried  some  little  distance  in  a  farm  wagon,  to  get  through  a  washout  where  the  water 
came  np  to  the  hubs ;  and  then  we  wheeled  through  Blawenburg,  Kingston,  Princeton  (good 
dinner  at  Nassau  Hotel),  Lawrenceville,  Trenton,  Newportville,  Nicetown,  to  Philadelphia,  in 
the  evening,  68  m.,  of  which  the  last  6  m.  were  hardly  ridable.  The  next  day  we  wheeled  about 
P.  a  Httle.  and  then  to  Chester,  18  m.  On  the  9th,  we  found  fairly  good  roads  to  Wilming- 
ton, 12  m.  (dinner),  whenc:  they  grew  constantly  poorer,  until  they  forced  us  to  walk  most  of  the 
last  7  m.,  ending  at  North  East,  28  m.  Thence  on  the  loih  we  walked  8  m.  of  sand  and  hills 
to  PerT3nn]le,  crossed  by  train  to  Havre  de  Grace,  and  took  the  upper  route  for  Baltimore, 
41  m.,  which  we  reached  at  night, — the  wind  being  a  great  help  to  us  on  this  bumpy  and  hilly 
road.  Early  on  the  nth,  we  walked  across  the  city,  and,  after  2  or  3  m.  of  rough  wheeling,  got 
opposite  the  Insane  Asylum,  from  which  point  the  roads  were  fine  to  the  Relay  House  (break- 
fast), where  we  walked  the  viaduct  and  had  foot-path  wheeling  till  we  struck  the  pike.  This 
grew  hillier  and  sandier  as  we  advanced,  compelling  frequent  dismounts.  It  might  be  called 
between  fair  and  poor,  as  far  as  Laurels,  the  half-way  point ;  but  beyond  that  it  grew  so  hilly 
and  sandy  that  it  could  rarely  be  ridden  at  all.  We  could  not  even  wheel  down  the  hills  except 
at  considerable  risk.  Washington  was  sighted  at  dusk,  and  on  its  smooth  pavements  we  fin- 
ished a  day's  record  of  41  m.,  making  254  m.  for  the  6  days  from  N.  Y."  (Compare  this  with 
my  own  5  days'  route  of  240  m.,  on  pp.  172,  372.  The  tourists  evidently  made  a  mistake  in  not 
wheeling  up  the  tow-path  from  H.  de  G.  to  Port  Deposit,  4  m.,  and  taking  my  route  thence  to 
B.  amd  W.     My  route  from  Somerville  to  Phila.,  61  m.,  was  probably  preferable  to  theirs.) 

"  Having  enjoyed  4  days'  wheeling  in  and  around  the  Capital,  we  took  train  to  Havre  de 
Grace,  and  spent  the  night  at  its  best  hotel,  which  is  a  very  bad  one.  We  started  for  the  tow- 
path  at  7  A.  M.  of  the  i6th,  and  crossed  the  bridge  at  the  first  lock,  but  in  less  than  i  m.  reached 
an  overflow  where  a  rod  of  water  had  to  be  waded.    Most  of  the  path  was  poor  riding,  perhaps 


37S  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

because  of  recent  rains,  suid  it  was  6  P.  m.  when  we  left  it  and  crossed  tlie  long  bni%^  to 
Columbia,  43  m.,  whence  we  went,  after  supper,  to  Lancaster,  ix  m.  Wood's  road-book  aaiys 
'  the  tow-path  is  good  almost  the  entire  distance  to  H.  de  G.  and  wide  enough  for  two  caiiL^es 
abreast ';  but  there  are  in  fact  only  a  very  few  places  where  teams  can  pass  each  other  in  safely,  axsd 
even  a  wheelman  generally  has  to  dismount  to  let  an  ordinary  team  go  by.  In  some  places  tbe 
path  is  on  the  brink  of  a  predpioe,  where  the  cyder  rides  within  18  in.  of  the  edge,  so  that  a  i 
move  would  send  him  shooting  into  space.  The  novelty  of  this  danger,  and  the  fine  scenery,  \ 
the  experience  a  pleasant  one,  though  the  thermometer  stood  at  1040,  when  we  rested  x  h.  for  dza- 
ner  at  McCall's  Ferry  House,  ao  m.  from  the  start.  The  most  refreshing  ride  of  our  tour  was  tbe 
last  20  m.  of  our  last  day,  Paoli  to  Phila.,  when  our  total  was  60^  m.  A  qnrained  wrist,  wfacs 
5  m.  from  L.,  caused  us  to  take  train  at  Bird-b>Hand,  but  we  alighted  again,  two  stataoos  be- 
yond, and  thence  took  a  hot  -pace  to  Paoli,  at  i  o'clock.  We  both  rode  54  in.  Standaxd  Colons- 
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  ra.  regis- 
tered while  at  Washugton.  As  for  i>revious  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  loogesx 
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, 
160  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 
xoo  m.  run  to  Boston  that  same  autumn  has  already  been  mentioned  (p.  114).  I  once  wlieefed 
19  m.  in  80  min.  on  the  road  without  dismount,  though  I  never  yet  tried  to  see  how  long  a  at^ 
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  xoo  m.  previously. 
My  only  long  trip  besides  the  recent  one  was  300  m.,  through  Worcester,  Lowell,  Boston  and 
Providence.  As  I  have  ridden  steadily  for  two  seasons,  to  and  from  my  work  in  a  furnishing 
store,  I  think  it  would  be  safe  to  set  my  milea^  at  3,000." 

The  pastor  of  the  First  English  Lutheran  Church  at  Columbia,  Pa.,  W.  P.  Evans,  t 
"  The  best  run  hereabouts  is  down  the  tide-water  tow-path,  through  some  very  beautiful  a 
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  repteaeBts 
touring,  daily  exercising,  and  somewhat  of  pastoral  work.  My  longest  single  tour  was  irom 
Cooperstown  to  Albany  and  Rhinebeck  and  return.'*  The  date  of  these  words  was  Jan.  90, 
'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  Angnst. 
'85,  he  took  part  in  the  "  clerical  wheelmen's  tour,"  devised  by  Mr.  S.,  and  described  on  p.  323. 

There  was  no  sunshine,  next  day,  but  the  atmosphere  was  hot  and  sticky, 
with  occasional  light,  drizzly  showers.  Finishing  breakfast  at  9, 1  devoted  3 
h.  to  polishing  up  my  wheel,  and  getting  the  cyclometer  into  working  order. 
I  turned  the  hands  along  t  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 

iarmer'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  5.3a  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  as 
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  54}  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  i^  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  difiicult  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";  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  i  J  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  1}  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  7.\  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  4}  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  wasgwine  ter  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  ridii^, 
"  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  lightning  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 

would  b«  a  certain  poetic  appropriateness  about  it;  and  that  my  executor 
^rould  be  able  to  assure  the  sorrowing  subscribers  of  this  book  that "  Number 
234,  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  raised  it  above  my  head  and  stolidly 
plodded  for  a  rod  or  two  through  six  inches  of  running  water.  At  the  r.  r.,  I 
t.  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  x}  m.  away,  and 
1  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,  4}  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  remoter  ones  almost  imperceptibly  sinking  into  the  blue  of  the  sky  itself.  The  hill  where 
entrance  is  made  to  the  Cave  also  commands  a  noble  outlook ;  though  this  is  not  needed  to  cheer 
the  spirits  of  the  tourist  when  he  emerges  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- 
oat  detracting  from  its  weird  and  indescribable  impressiveness ;  whereas,  in  the  Mammoth  Cave 
(p.  453),  the  uppermost  feeling  left  upon  my  mind  was  one  of  profound  gloom  over  its  mysterious- 
nesB  and  immensity.  The  guide  would  throw  lighted  rolls  of  oiled  paper  into  its  deepest  chasms, 
and  would  illumine  its  most  remarkable  domes  and  chambers  by  burning  red  and  blue  chemicals ; 
but  the  darkness  seemed  all  the  deeper  after  these  brief  breaks  in  it,  and  the  prison-like  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  vulgarised  in  some  plaees  by  piles  of  stones  rudely 
labeled  as  "  monuments,"  and  in  other  places  by  tourists*  names  inscribed  in  candle*«moke 
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  tempenture  of  the  cavern  would 


382  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

restore  their  diseased  lungs  to  health.  .  They  migfat  more  pleasantly  have  died  at  the  ootaet,  k 
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  io  such 
a  place,  the  task  of  lugging  her  out,  5  or  6  m.,  by  the  flickering  light  of  lanterns,  is  too  tircsoae 
for  romance  or  poetry.  I  name  these  defects  and  discomforts  of  the  cavern  not  to  discourage  aay 
healthy  and  vigorous  person  from  going  there  (for  Mammoth  Cave  is  a  real  wonder  of  the  w«xMl, 
which  every  American  ought  to  visit,  in  spite  of  the  9  m.  of  bad  road  whidi  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  leisurdy  raai»- 
ner.  A  single  inspection  of  the  Mammoth  Cave  sufficed  to  gratify  my  curionty ;  bat  Luray  I 
wotild  like  to  look  at  often,  just  as  I  like  to  look  often  at  Niagara. 

I  may  say  the  same  of  the  Natural  Bridge,  and  the  mountains  overhai^ng  it ;  and  I  have 
explained  on  p.  3  50  how  conveniently  a  trip  thither  may  be  combined  with  one  to  Lnny.  A  car- 
riage road,  which  crosses  the  Bridge  a  few  rods  s.  of  the  hotel  and  not  much  above  its  levd,  winds 
by  easy  grades  to  the  top  of  Mt.  Jefferson,  a  smooth  and  open  stmimit  crowned  by  an  observatory 
which  ofEers  an  inspiring  view  of  grand  mountain-ranges  in  nearly  evQry  direction, — the  extreme 
peaks  on  the  horizon  being  nearly  100  m.  apart.  I  thought  myself  very  fortunate  in  having  dw 
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  ody  a 
casual  allusion  to  Natural  Bridge,  though  it  gives  a  third  of  its  space  (pp.  68-114)  to  "  the  VaBej 
of  Virginia,"  and  illustrates  the  same  with  33  pictures,  including  a  fairly  good  view  of  Xjunsj 
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-coadi  ride  of  14  ol,  beginning  at  a  poiat 
about  half-way  between  Staunton  and  Harrisonburg.  This  cave  is  described  with  enthusiasm  b 
"  Picturesque  America  "  (I.  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  HettI, 
overlooking  Newmarket,  I  quote  the  following  report  from  the  Whetlman.  article  used  en  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  mooot- 
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  piece 
of  hill-riding !  A  recent  shower  had  made  the  road-bed  wet ;  stones  of  all  sizes  lay  arovnd  pio- 
miscuously,  sharp  turns  occurred  at  short  intervals;  but  over  all  was  the  grade^at  least  i  in 
8  all  the  way  down.  Every  foot  to  the  bottom  was  ridden  without  dismount  by  two  of  us,  and 
the  cyclometer  showed  the  distance  from  the  summit  was  just  2^  m.  Of  the  7  m.  thence  to  the 
Luray  Inn,  which  was  reached  at  13.30,  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  almost  perpendicular  hill  into  Luray,  and  one  of  Ae 
party  afterwards  rode  up  it  Next  morning,  we  retraced  our  ooune,  walking  to  the  sommit  of 
Massanutten,  and  riding  down  the  opi>osite  side  to  Valley  View  House  for  dinner.  Thenoe  A 
3  we  proceeded  across  to  Newmarket  and  struck  the  Valley  pike  i^ain.** 

I  had  planned  to  go  again  to  Staunton,  bat,  being  two  days  behind  mj 
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  hate 
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  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG,    ^^^ 

unexpected  luxury  of  broiled  frog's-legs.  Through  all  this  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  saw  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  wheel,  who  may  plan  to  pass  a  night  in  Mt.  Jackson,  can 
always  make  sure  of  a  frog  supper,  during  the  season,  by  sending  a  day's 
notice  of  his  desire  to  the  owner  of  the  comfortable  hotel  there  situated. 

When  I  started  away  from  it,  at  6  A.  M.  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 
diffused, — producing,  in  Massachusetts,  a  frost  of  unheard-of  severity  which 
destroyed  all  the  crops.  But  it  was  an  ideal  day  for  wheeling,  and  I  reached 
the  Chalybeate  Springs  Hotel,  in  Strasburg,  25  m.,  in  just  3  h.,  covering  thus 
a  longer  distance  than  ever  before  in  that  interval.  My  first  stop  was  for  the 
sake  of  a  horse ;  my  second  was  forced  by  a  long  hill  of  rough  mac.  which  I 
could  n't  quite  surmount  (this  same  hill  was  the  only  one  not  conquered  by  II. 
S.  Wood,  the  previous  week,  in  riding  the  whole  125  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,  12 J  m.  and  ij  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  ij  h.  for  breakfast  and  for 
renewing  my  acquaintance  of  the  previous  November  with  the  owner  of  the 
hotel  (p.  345),  whom  I  quickly  beguiled  into  subscribing  for  the  book ;  and  I 
made  several  long  stops  on  the  road,  to  enjoy  the  scenery,  or  the  talk  of  peo- 
ple who  recalled  the  stirring  events  of  war  times.     Hence,  it  wa's  nearly 

2  when  I  halted  for  lunch  at  a  restaurant  opposite  the  post-office  in 
Winchester,  i/J  m.,  and  it  was  3  when  I  really  resumed  my  journey  on  the 
Berry ville  pike,  after  an  intermediate  progress  of  i  m.,  in  examining  the 
monuments  of  the  Confederate  cemetery.  The  50  m.  between  Newmarket 
and  this  point  had  been  wheeled  by  me  in  the  opposite  direction  (Nov.  21,  '83, 
S.30  A.  M.  to  5.40  P.  M.,  see  p.  345),  but  the  rest  of  my  route  was  new.  Good 
wheeling  prevailed  for  4^  m.,  much  of  it  down  a  defile  which  allowed  no  view, 
to  a  place  where  I  crossed  a  stream,  a  rod  wide,  on  stones  and  a  log.  Ope- 
quon  creek,  with  a  ford  3  or  4  rods  wide,  was  \  m.  beyond,  and  a  passing  farm- 
wagon  ferried  me  across.  The  driver  said  there  was  a  line  of  stepping  stones, 
a  little  ways  below,  but  I  saw  nothing  of  them.  Berryville,  6  m.,  was  reached 
in  I  h.,  and  I  ought  there  to  have  taken  a  sharp  1. 1.  for  the  Charlestown  pike, 
but  I  unwittingly  kept  straight  on  for  5  m.  till  brought  to  a  halt  by  the  river 
at  Candleman's  Ferry.  (This  was  formerly  called  Snicker's,  and  leads  to 
.Snicker's  Gap,  the  unattractive  route  through  which  to  the  Potomac  is  given 
on  p.  244.)     Turning  about,  I  made  one  or  two  detours  on  cross  roads  towards 


334  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Charlestown  before  deciding  to  go  back  to  Berryville  for  the  night,  and  I 
rode  2  ra,  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  mc 
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,  7^  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,  7im.  in  ijh.,  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,  I  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-Jaid  mac,  and  one  or  two  small  villages.  Crossing  the  bridge 
into  Maryland  at  2,  I  1 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  (sec  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, 
3 J  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   Cemeter}%  where   sleep   the    2,oco   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  \\  h., 
was  along  an  undulating  toll-pike  of  mac,  often  bordered  with  locust-trees  in 


BULL  RUN,  LURA  Y  CA  VE  AND  GETTYSBURG,    385 

full  bloom,  with  ridable  hills  and  many  pleasing  views  of  a  fertile  and  pros- 
perous country.  Starting  n.  from  the  central  square  of  H.  at  11  a.  m.  of  the 
31st,  I  t.  r.  at  the  first  toll-gate,  i^  m.,  and  after  passing  the  gate  at  Leiters- 
burg,  5t  ™«»  **  ii-50i  ^  !•  ^or  Waynesboro,  5  m.,  which  is  just  inside  the  line 
of  Pennsylvania,  Thence  I  jogged  on,  at.  1.30,  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  full  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  t.  1.,  and  began  upon  2  m.  of  down-hill  riding.  Being 
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- 
burg  pike,  and  there  1. 1.  across  a  covered  bridge.  At  5  o'clock,  when  1 1  m. 
from  W.,  I  reached  a  sign  "3im.  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,  8J  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  smooth  roads,  so  that  3  m.  were  added  to  my 
register  when  I  returned  to  the  hotel  for  breakfast 

General  Doubleday's  book  on  *'  Gettysburg  "  (Scribncre,  $i),  whose  maps  of  the  region  T 
have  alluded  to  on  p.  35a,  is  an  admirable  companion  for  the  studious  tourist  who  wishes  to 
briog  before  his  mind  a  dear  conception  of  the  sulphurous  scenes  once  enacted  here, — thoug;h  I 
believe  a  cheaper  local  guide  is  procurable  at  the  hotel.  A  vuit  may  also  be  recommended  to 
the  great  drcular  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 nmk  in  history  as  chief  among  the  decisive  ones  of  the  dvil  war.  Here,  at  least,  the  South 
ma<le  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,  straggle  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  numerous  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  nowhere  else,  the  survivors  or  successors  of  that  warring  generation,  which  has  now  mostly 
gone  from  the  stage,  can  afford  to  view  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  o£  the 
wise  words  spoken  at  the  age  of  34  by  the  gallant  soldier  whom  I  like  to  remember  as  the  besi 
•iogle  contribation  which  that  native  State  of  mine  made  to  the  civil  war :  William  Francn 
Bartlett  (b.  June  6, 1840,  d.  Dec.  17,  1S76),  the  youngest  man  who  came  out  of  that  war  as  a 
Major  General,  commanding  a  division  in  the  lai^gest  army  of  modem  times.  And  these  are  the 
words,  whose  statesmanlike  grasp  and  greatness  made  them  se^pa  to  me  more  truly  i 
than  any  of  the  inscriptions  which  I  read  on  the  monuments  at  Gettysburg,  that  Sunday  e 
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  charitable  oblivion  :  "  It  was  to  make  this  a  haj^y,  reunited  oouDtxy,  when 
every  man  should  be  in  reality  free  and  equal  before  the  law,  that  our  comrades  fought,  ow 
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  dignified  debates!  They  died  for  their  country— 
for  the  South  tu»  Uss  than  for  the  North.  And  the  Southern  youth,  in  the  days  to  come,  wiB 
see  (his,  and,  as  he  stands  in  these  hallowed  halls  and  reads  those  names,  realizing  the  grandear 
and  power  of  a  country  which,  thanks  to  them,  is  still  his,  will  exclaim:  '  These  men  fooght 
for  my  salvation  as  well  as  for  their  own.  Tliey  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  Gettysbuiig,  as  I  am  of  the  roee 
who  so  bravely  met  and  repulsed  them  there.  Men  cannot  always  choose  the  right  cainse ;  but 
when,  having  chosen  that  which  conscience  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,  fooght 
against  their  government  at  Gettysburg,  ought  easily  to  be  forgiven  by  the  sons  of  men  who,  for 
conscience'  sake,  fought  against  their  government  at  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill.  As  Massa- 
chusetts was  first  in  war,  so  let  her  be  first  in  peace,  and  she  shall  ever  be  first  in  the  hearts  of 
her  countrymen.  And  let  us  here  resolve  that,  true  to  her  andent  motto,  while  in  war  ^Rme 
feiU  plaeidamt*  in  peace  she  demands,  not  only  for  herself,  but  for  every  inch  of  this  great 
country,  '  sub  libertate  guietsmJ'  "-—From  his  speeches  at  Cambridge,  June  34,  1874,  and  Les* 
ington,  April  19,  1875,  as  given  on  pp.  251,  257  of  "  Memoir  of  General  Bartlett,"  by  Frana 
Winthrop  Palfrey  (Boston:  Houghton,  Osgood  &  Co.,  1878). 

Resuming  the  journey  from  G.  at  11. 10,  I  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  arol 
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  point  of  striking  the  smooth  road.  At  6.20  I  had  ridden  5 J  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  44J  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 

ft 
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 
La.ndis  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  10.30  (13!  m.  in  3  h.  from  L.),  where  "  the  Mt.  Vernon  House  by  Z.  Under- 
cofiler  "  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 
o£  I  h.  for  dinner ;  thence  5  m.  in  i  J  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,  5}  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,  6J  m.  at  6,  I  reversed 
the  route  by  which  I  entered  the  city  on  the  previous  autumn  (see  p.  343) ; 
and  at  7  I  reached  the  top  of  a  hill,  4  m.  from  the  Temple;  and  at  8.10  I 
reached  Kutztown,  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 
large  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 
had  stopped  at  the  lone  road-house  about  midway  between  R.  and  K.  I 
covered  49  m.,  that  day,  on  roads  of  soft  yellow  clay  or  brown  loam,  which 
were  nearly  all  ridable,  though  they  offered  hardly  any  good  riding.  The  sun 
shone  brightly,  but  a  breeze  tempered  the  heat.  The  next  day  was  hotter, 
and  the  afternoon  roads  were  dusty ;  and  as  my  night's  sleep  after  the  long 
journey  had  been  pK)or,  I  rode  no  further  than  Easton  (35  m.,  9  a.  m.  to  6  p.  M.). 
Rothrocksville  tempted  me  to  stop  for  beer  at  10,  Trexlertown  was  passed 
at  n  ;  and  the  American  House  in  Allentown,  18 J  m.  from  K.,  was  reached 
at  12.30.  Light  brown  and  yellow  clay  supplied  pretty  good  riding  from  K. 
to  T.,  but  between  T.  and  A.  there  were  many  stones  covered  by  deep  dust,  and 
several  bad  hills.  Cheered  by  the  first  well-served  dinner  I  had  had  since 
leaving  the  Luray  Inn,  a  week  before  (296  m.),  I  jogged  to  Bethlehem,  be- 
tween 2  and  3.30,  paying  8  c.  toll  for  the  use  of  the  dusty  mac.  road,  which  is 
said  to  offer  excellent  riding  in  damper  weather.  Resting  \  h.  in  B.,  I  reached 
the  Farmersville  Hotel,  10  m.  from  A.,  at  4.40,  and  then  took  no  further  note 
of  my  cyclometer  until  the  finish,  6i  m.  beyond,  at  the  United  States  Hotel 
in  Easton.  This  stands  on  a  corner,  a  short  distance  1.  of  the  public  square, 
into  which  I  descended  by  a  very  steep  grade. 

I  have  already  deacribed  (p.  173)  the  next  day's  ride  across  New  Jersey  to  Newark,  7a  m., 
the  longest  and  most  difficult  in  the  ao  days'  circuit  of  765  m.  which  was  thus  completed,  and 
which  raised  my  cydometer  to  898  m.    I  mounted  not  again  for  more  than  three  months ;  and 


388  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

th6  story  of  how  I  then  continued  the  trail  aoo  m.  to  Springfield  in  September  has  been  tdd  on  pp. 
169-172,  146-148,  xai ;  and  of  my  December  ride  back  to  New  York,  on  pp.  122,  134,  136.  On 
the  a4th  of  December,  in  the  midst  of  a  driving  snow-storm,  I  rode  my  wheel  from  Washington 
Heights  to  Washington  Square,  7I  m.,  and  stored  it  in  my  chambers,  with  the  tow  not  to  movnit 
it  again  "  until  after  the  publication  of  my  book.'*  Henn,  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  wiib  it  on  the 
324th  and  836th  m.,  and  dropped  it  on  the  667th  and  1,407th  m. — bending  the  I.  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  aO 
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  2x5  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,  <  h.  after  completing  an  all-night,  sleepless  ride  by  train  from  Washing- 
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  back ;  while  the 
road  surface  in  the  bottoms  was  heavy  from  the  rain.  Leaving  W.  at  8  a.  h.,  I  reached  Hageis- 
town  at  6.30  p.  M.,  a  run  of  73  m.  in  7}  h.  of  riding.  My  longest  stop  was  at  Winchester,  i}b., 
ending  at  1.20;  Bunker  Hill,  11^  m.,  was  i}assed  at  2.45  ;  Martinsburg,  10  m.,  at  4,  and  WiH- 
iamsport,  14  ro.,  at  5.35.  On  Sunday,  I  covered  79  m.,  H.  to  Columbia,  7  a.  m.  to  7.45  p.  h. 
About  half  the  road  was  very  poor,  and  my  riding  time  of  10^  h.  was  divided  equally  by  my  stop 
of  I  h.  at  Gettysburg,  37  m.  from  H.,  where  I  got  a  good  dinner  at  the  '  Eagle.'  I  reached 
Waynesboro,  ii^m.  from  H.,  at  8.35  ;  Emmetsbuig,  15  m.,  at  11.15;  and  Gettysburg,  11  ra., 
at  I  p.  M.  As  no  road  could  be  worse  than  this  vile  stretch  from  £.  to  G.,  where  several  hilb 
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  boatiog 
trip,  which  finished  my  vacation.  My  wheel  was  a  58  in.  Light  Rudge,  with  Duryea  saddle  and 
McDonnell  cyclometer.  A  year  earlier  (July  1,  '83),  I  took  a  straightaway  ride  of  just  la  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  bade ; 
but  I  would  not  care  to  take  the  same  trip  again,  for  the  25  m.  from  Coatesville  to  L.  was  very 
rough  and  hilly,  though  much  of  it  ridable.  Let  me  ray  that  an  excellent  course  of  53  m.  from 
Philadelphia  to  Wilmington  is  to  follow  this  same  Lancaster  pike  20  m.  to  Paolt,  then  1. 1.  for  West 
Chester  and  Chadd's  Ford  and  follow  the  Brandywine  to  W.  This  allows  14  m.  of  splendid  Tel- 
ford, 9  m.  of  very  good  clay  and  20  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  Wh*«lmum^$  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  i  o'clock  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.  W. 
BmIMm  (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  jl  h.,  and  readied  Columbia,  ii  m.,  a  h.  ]ater.  His  route  from  Paoli  to  L.  waa  about  15  m. 
(or  3  h.)  shorter  thao  the  pike  between  those  points,  which  he  had  traversed  on  his  previous 
ioaniey ;  and  the  14  m.  section  of  it  from  P.  to  Downingtown  is  thus  described  :  "  Leave  the  pike 
at  Green  Tree  and  take  Indian  King  road,  which  is  paraUel  to  Penn.  r.  r.,  on  s.  side,  to  Mai- 
vera  whence  it  turns  somewhat  s.  w.,  to  Indian  King  Inn,  where  it  meiges  into  the  Boot  road, 
direct  for  D.  At  Valley  Creek,  about  2  m.  before  reaching  D.,  it  goes  under  r.  r.,  and  the  w. 
down-grade  of  hill  there  is  ridable.  The  surface  is  mostly  hard  clay,  much  superior  to  the  pike. " 
Possibly  this  newer  route  was  the  one  taken  by  S.  B.  Downey,  of  L.,  when  he  wheeled  from 
that  dly  to  PhiUu  (Lane  av.  and  sid.  St.),  "  Sept.  so,  *8s,  between  6.30  a.  m.  and  a  p.  u.,  on  a 
country  road,  a  distance  of  about  70  m.,  with  two  stoppages  for  meals."  Another  notable  local 
ride  was  that  of  Frank  Emberg,  Landisville  to  Phila.,  76  m.,  4  a.  m.  to  7  p.  m.,  June  15,  '85. 

'*  The  Philadelphia  riding  district "  is  thus  described  by  Mr.  W.  in  his  road-book :  **  All 
wheelmen  use  the  Park  and  the  Lancaster  pike  on  the  n.  w. ;  many  take  the  gravel  highways  ra- 
diating from  Camden  on  the  e.,  and  a  few  of  the  bolder  and  more  curious  riders  penetrate  the  com- 
paratively unknown  regions  to  the  n.  and  s.  w.  The  Lancaster  pike,  whereon  commence  routes 
to  West  Chester,  Lancaster,  Norristown  and  Reading,  begins  at  the  53d  st.  station  of  the  Penn. 
r.  r.  and  leads  the  wheelman  over  an  unsurpassed  Telford  road,  with  many  hills,  through  Ard^ 
more  (4),  Haverford  College  (5),  Bryn  Mawr  (6),  Wayne  (lo),  Devon  (12),  Berwyn  (13)  and 
Paoli  (16).  Branching  from  the  main  pike,  generally  to  the  n.,  are  many  roads  whose  siuiaces 
are  fast  being  laid  with  the  Telford  pavement.  Already  starting  from  Bryn  Mawr  the  road  s. 
to  G.  W.  Childs's  countrf-seat,  and  Montgomery  av.  w.  to  the  Gulf  Mills  (a  lovely  spot),  offer 
inviting  diversions,  while  most  valuable  of  all  appears  the  newly  piked  road  to  Conshohocken 
and  Norristown,  leading  from  Bryn  Mawr  station  n.  From  Ardmore  in  turn  a  Telford  leacb  s.  to 
Coopertown,  and  a  similar  one  n.  to  Merion  Square,  while  from  Overbrook  a  new  and  valuable 
route  has  been  created  to  the  hitherto  inaccessible  General  Wajme  Hotel,  with  digressions  on 
Highland  and  Union  av's.  Tlie  fashionable  suburban  cliaracter  of  this  neighborhood  ensures 
ooDstant  additions  to  the  now  quite  respectable  list  of  n.  w.  runs,  and  when  the  beautiful  Mill 
Creek  road  shall  have  joined  its  well-paved  companions,  cyclers  will  have  little  more  to  desire 
in  that  direction.  In  Fairmount  Park  wheelmen  enjoy  perfect  liberty  on  the  carriage  ways, 
provided:  (i)That  a  bell  be  carried  always;  a  lamp  by  night;  and  a  whistle,  not  at  all.  (2) 
That  wheelmen  ride  not  more  than  two  abreast.  (3)  That  no  coasting  be  attempted.  (4) 
That  no  wheel  be  left  unattended  by  the  roadside.  (5)  That  the  pace  shall  not  exceed 
7  ra.  per  h.  (the  judgment  of  the  police  on  this  subject,  however,  being  somewhat  elastic).  Ow- 
ing to  the  cost  of  the  City  Hall,  munidpal  expenditure  on  both  Park  and  streets  has  been  of 
recent  years  much  too  small  for  maintenance,  and  the  Fairmount  roads  are,  therefore,  much 
inferior  to  the  Lancaster  pike.  The  West  Park  has  the  better  surface  at  present,  although  the 
East  Park  is  the  more  interesting  iu  its  river  road,  which,  if  followed  up  the  Schuylkill  and 
Wissahickon  to  Indian  Rock,  furnishes  a  straightaway  of  10  m.  of  unsurpassed  beauty,  but 
constantly  increasing  difficulty.  The  various  deviations  in  the  West  Park  surround  the  sites 
of  the  Centennial  buildings,  and  finally  concentrate  at  the  top  of  Belmont  into  one  highway 
leading  to  the  Old  Ford  Hill.  In  making  the  Park  circuit,  always  start  with  the  West,  in  order 
to  walk  down  this  soft  and  unridable  grade,  at  whose  foot  a  rather  poor  cinder  road  leads  north- 
ward to  the  Falls  Bridge,  over  which  one  must  walk  to  the  East  Park  drive. 

**  To  the  n.  of  P.  the  comparatively  hiacccssible  region  of  Germantown  offers  a  few  mac. 
streets  in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness  of  pavement  or  sand;  and  if,  by  skilful  navigation,  the 
rider  emerges  on  the  farther  side,  he  finds  the  abominable  Reading  road  to  Norristown,  and  the 
more  ridable  Bethlehem  and  Lime  Kiln  pikes  leading  due  n.,  over  a  stony  and  hilly  country,  into 
the  better  "  new  red  sandstone  "  of  Montgomery  county.  This  condition  remains  unchanged 
when,  in  passing  e.,  we  strike  the  Old  York  road — a  prolongation  of  North  Broad  st.  Between 
this  road  and  Frankford  a  riding  wilderness  intervenes,  and  a  7  m.  jolt  over  cobbles  or  side- 
walks roust  be  endured  before  the  fairly  good  Bristol  pike  is  reached.  Skipping  over  the  city  to 
the  s.  and  a.  w.  border,  we  find  the  extension  of  Market  st.,-^he  direct  and  worst  possible 
ront^  to  West  Chester,  embodying  all  that  is  vile  of  stone  and  dust.    Crossing  this  delectable 


390 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


highway,  and  comiog  from  the  mac.  region  of  North  Belmoot  av.  and  Orertnook,  b  the  To«b- 
ship  Line  road,  which  has  left  its  mac.  near  the  Lancaster  pike  to  lose  its  conglomerate  identic 
in  radiating  forks  to  Media  and  Chester.  Still  f artlier  s.  the  Baltimore  pike  ('  Baltimore '  neao- 
ing  that  travelers  thereto  should  take  any  other  route),  starting  from  the  r.  fork  at  Daxby  road 
and  Woodlands  Cemetery,  leads  by  a  very  direct,  rough  and  hilly  route  to  Media  and  Cfaadd's 
Ford.  Passing  s.  once  more,  and  commencing  where  the  Bait,  pike  began,  we  find  the  Daitqr 
road,  witli  i  m.  or  so  of  sidewalk-riding  before  the  cobbles  give  place  to  very  uncertain  nac 
This  is,  at  some  seasons,  fair  riding  to  Darby;  thence  somewhat  rough  and  rut^  to  Chester  aad 
Wilmington.  But  by  far  the  most  satisfactory  southern  outlet  is  the  Tinicum  road,  parallel  Id 
the  Delaware  below  the  mouth  of  the  Schuylkill.  This  road,  s^proached  by  5  m.  of  I 
mac.,  aud  side  paths,  offers  a  dead  level  surface  of  very  fair,  quickly  drying  gravel  for  \ 
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),  Merchantvilie  aad  Mooras- 
town  (good),  Marlton  (fair),  Haddonfield  and  White  Horse  (good),  and  Mt  Ephxaim  (gooi^ 
The  connections  with  South  Jersey  are  best  made  by  South  St.  Ferry  to  Gloooester,  whence  a 
good  gravel  pike  leads  to  Woodbury.  From  this  point  three  highways  radiate  southward, — the 
easternmost  through  Pitman  Grove  and  Glassboro'  to  Yineland  (fair  to  poor),  the  next  to  Woods- 
town  by  way  of  Mullica  Hill,  and  the  last  direct  to  Swedesboro',  Woodstown  and  Salem.  From 
Salem  a  magnificent  surface  runs  through  Bridgeton  and  Millville  to  Yineland.  All  the  Jersey 
roads  above  mentioned  are  reclaimed  from  a  sandy  soil  by  gravel  piking.  They  become  vile  in 
froety  weather  and  dusty  in  a  very  dry  season,  but  are  generally  fine,  especially  after  the  spring 
•craping,  or  a  soaking  rain  in  summer.  Tlie  Devon  Inn,  the  Wayne  hotels,  or  that  at  Btjfb 
Mawr,  a£Eord  visitors  the  best  and  most  compact  riding  with  the  highest  sodal  advantages." 


The  latter  part  of  the  next  chapter  is  from  the  Wheel  Worlds  London,  Oct.,  '85.  The  alle- 
gorical design  which  I  have  described  on  the  opposite  page  {Harper's  JVeekfy,  Jan.  9,  '69,  p.  95) 
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.  236)  had  a  sketch  of  the  Prince  Imperial  and  a  boy  com- 
panion practicing  on  velocipedes  in  the  presence  of  the  Emperor,  in  the  reserved  garden  of  the 
Tuileries.  Its  final  illustration  of  the  subject  (May  x,  p.  aSx)  was  a  fuU-page  picture,  drawn  by 
Thomas  Worth,  entitled  "  The  Velocipede  Mania— What  It  May  Come  To  !  "  This  b  of  a 
comic  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  thoa 
having  a  baby  in  her  arms,  another  having  a  garbage-cart  attached,  and  the  third  being  a  lai]; 
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  b  emerging,  with  lib  arm  in  a  sling,  from  the  "  Velocipede  Man* 
ufactory  and  Riding  School."  At  just  about  the  time  when  thb  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  I ' "  The  only  later  aOii- 
sion  to  it  ever  given  in  Harper's  Weekly  was  contained  in  the  following  sketch  of  a  '*  Whee^ 
odpede  "  which  the  editor  inserted  twice  (June  26,  p.  407 ;  Sept.  ix,  p.  587) :  **  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  vehicle  goes  without  any  bother. 
This  funny  machine  has  no  painting  nor  gilding  :  it  is  useful  to  carry  material  for  buDding— 
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  is  n't  so  narrow ;  and  our  wheelocipede  we  call  a  whed- 
barrow  I  "  The  ancient  bone-shakers  of  Alnwick  Castle,  mentioned  00  p.  386  as  exciting  re- 
mark in  184 It  were  seen  there  quite  recently  by  C.  M.  Douglass,  who  alludes  to  them  in  the 
Wheelman  (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 
Harper^s  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  ^  186S  "),  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 : 

"  Pfnk  as  the  rose  is  his  skin  so  fair ;  round  as  an  apple  his  perfect  shape ; 
While  the  light  that  falls  on  his  tawny  hair  is  like  sun  in  the  heart  of  a  bursting  grape." 

Thus  the  picture  serves  to  remind  me  not  only  of  the  year  when  I 
finished  crossing  the  bridge  between  youth  and  manhood,  but  of  the  fact  that 

*  The  fizst  part  of  diis  it  from  The  SpringJUld  Wkulmtn^t  GautU,  September,  18B5. 


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  unjustness  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  eating-club,  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  Stote  street,  just  to 


BONE-SHAKER  DA  YS,  393 

tee  what  the  thing  was  like,  anyhow.'*    It  was  at  half-past  8  o'clock,  on  the 
erening  of  Thursday,  February  4, 1869,  that  my  eyes  thus  for  the  first  time 
feasted  themselves  upon  the  alluring  outlines  of  a  bone-shaker.    My  daily 
joomal  of  that  date  records  the  simple  fact  without  comment  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, 
ten  da3rs  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  thef  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 
the  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,"  but  crowds  of  eager  patrons  waited 
impatiently  to  "take  their  quarter-hour  turns,"  or  even  gave  a  premium  for 
the  "chances"  of  those  who  had  registered   in  advance.      The  enormous 
waste  of  time  thus  involved,  in  the  process  of  "  learning  to  ride,"  brought 
me  back  again  to  a  realizing  sense  of  the  truth  that  I  simply  could  not  a£Eord 
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- 
oasly  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  stay  out  of 
sight.    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- 
rous concealment  of  that  sawdust-sprinkled  sanctum,  and  began  flaunting  it- 
self along  the  city  sidewalks.    All  in  vain  did  I  try  to  chain  my  thoughts  to 
**  the  appointed  studies  of  the  curriculum,"  or  to  confine  my  enthusiasm  to 
*"  Lit,  subscriptions  and  index-checks."     No  amount  of  absorption  in  books 
could  deaden  my  ears  to  the  bewitching  rattle  made  by  the  approaching  iron 
tires  upon  the  bricks ;  and  when  I  gazed  from  my  study  window  and  actually 
AW  an  acquaintance  proudly  prancing  by  on  a  velocipede,  my  heart  was 
quite  gone.    The  charming  spectacle  enraptured  my  soul,  and  at  the  same 
time  embittered  it.     I  felt  that  I,  too,  must  be  a  rider,  or  die  I 

This  sensation  stands  unique  in  my  experience,  and  I  can  recall  it 
as  freshly  as  if  it  had  happened  to  me  yesterday.  My  way  of.  life  has  always 
^n  such  as  to  keep  me  unusually  free  fpm  envy;  and  there  has  never  been 


394 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


a  time,  save  this  one,  when  a  consciousness  of  my  inability  to  do  a  dung, 
which  I  saw  another  person  doing,  has  had  power  to  make  me  unhs^ypy. 
Though  the  ability  to  ride  a  horse,  to  sail  a  boat,  to  row  skilfully,  to  ran 
swiftly,  to  throw  or  catch  a  ball,  to  box,  to  fence,  to  swing,  to  dance,  to  jampi, 
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- j 
ferior.     So,  seven  days  from  the  date  of  my  vow  of  total  abstinence  from  the 
rink,  I  rushed  again  to  its  embrace.     The  record  says :     **  I  run  one  of  the 
machines  for  an  hour,  without  learning  anything  at  all.     Horribly  hot  work. 
Cool  off  in  time  for  supper,  and  at  lo  P.  M.  take  another  half  hour  on  the 
veloc,  with  no  better  result  than  before.    Next  morning  (Sunday),  when  the 
chapel  bell  summons  me  to  put  on  my  clothes,  I  discover  that  the  seat  of  my 
trousers  has  been  torn  completely  out."     Monday's  report  adds :    "  Instead 
of  usual  evening  exercise  at  the  g)Tn.,  I  chase  up  the  veloc.  for  an  hour,  and 
*  learn  how '  just  a  little."    Immediately  following  this  preliminary  sugges- 
tion of  victory,  comes  the  triumphant  entry :     "  Tuesday,  February  i6 — \ 
rush  right  down  to  the  velocipede  hall,  after  morning  recitation,  and  ride 
there  for  an  hour.    Eureka  I  Eureka  I     I  'm  really  a  velocipedist  at  last  I "    1 
indulged  in  two  rides  the  next  day,  and  engaged  a  "  Pickering  "  for  a  sidewalk 
spin  on  the  early  morn  of  the  i8th;  but,  as  a  heavy  snow-storm  raged  then,  I 
trundled  the  hobby  to  the  gymnasium,  and  circled  delightedly  there  for  an 
hour, — repeating  the  experience  on  the  19th.    On  the  20th,  which  was  Satur- 
day, I  had  my  first  out-door  riding,  and  made  trial  of  the  concrete  walks  of 
the  same  public  green  where  Pierre  Lallemept,  the  inventor  of  "the  crank 
idea,"  had  given  an  exhibition  of  his  mechanism,  nearly  three  years  before, 
as  detailed  on  p.  140.    "  To  think  that  only  last  Saturday  I  could  n't  ride  a 
velocipede!    It  seems  a  hundred  years  since  then!"     Such  is  the  entry 
which  shows  the  degree  of  my  progress  within  a  fortnight  after  vowing  to  ab- 
stain from  the  rink.    The  suspension  of  recitations  on  Washington's  Birth- 
day (22d)  and  on  the  "  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  for  colleges "  (25th)  gave 
me  opportunity  for  "  riding  all  around  the  city,"  and  the  record  is  similar  for 
the  12th  and  17th  of  March  and  the  3d  and  13th  of  April,  on  which  latter 
day  I  went  home  for  a  fortnight's  vacation.    Exclamations  expressive  of  my 
joy  and  delight  in  the  sport  are  sandwiched  in  among  the  memoranda  (rf 
these  gala  occasions,  and  of  the  intermediate  shorter  rides.    Westville,  less 
than  four  miles  distant  from  the  college,  is  the  most  remote  spot  named 
(April  3)  in  my  wheeling  record,  and  the  latest  date  is  May  15.      Four  after- 
supper  rides  upon  the  flag-stone  walks  of  the  college-yard  are  recorded  during 
the  week  which  ended  then ;  and  it  is  to  be  noted  that  my  final  experience 
with  the  machine  in  New  Haven  happened  just  three  months  from  the  day 


BONE-SHAKER  DA  YS. 


395 


of  my  first  victory  over  it.  The  enforcement  of  a  municipal  law,  during  the 
April  vacation,  forbidding  the  use  of  velocipedes  on  the  city  sidewalks,  ex- 
plains why  the  field  of  my  May  riding  was  so  restricted.  It  was  because  of 
these  cramped  conditions,  and  not  because  of  any  diminution  of  my  ardor, 
that  I  abandoned  it  altogether. 

One  misfortune  only  befell  my  quarter-year's  career  on  the  bone-shaker ; 
but  that  one  attained  a  national  notoriety,  in  so  far  as  universal  newspaper 
'mention  could  confer  it.  The  facts  of  the  case  were  these  :  I  was  driving  a 
-velocipede  southward  along  the  west  sidewalk  of  Dwight  street,  at  a  slow 
;  rate,  on  the  afternoon  of  February  24,  when  I  noticed  that  an  old  white  horse, 
hitched  beside  the  roadway,  showed  symptoms  of  fright.  I  dismounted  im- 
mediately, but,  though  a  distance  of  two  or  three  rods  still  intervened,  the 
animal  continued  his  contortions,  made  a  vain  attempt  at  impalement  on  the 
hitching'post,  and  then  threw  himself  down.  He  was  soon  brought  up 
again,  by  the  assistance  of  some  men  who  ran  out  from  an  adjacent  carpen- 
ter's shop,  and  was  apparently  uninjured.  I  expressed  my  regrets  to  the 
owner,  who  had  by  this  time  appeared  upon  the  scene ;  and,  as  one  of  the 
wheels  of  his  carriage,  to  which  the  horse  was  attached,  had  suffered  the 
I06S  of  one  or  two  spokes,  in  the  animal's  endeavor  to  kick  himself  free,  I 
made  a  tender  of  payment,  to  cover  the  probable  cost  of  repairs,  and  the 
owner  accepted  a  dollar  with  apparent  satisfaction.  The  next  forenoon, 
however,  those  of  my  fellow-velocipedists,  who  chanced  to  see  me  riding, 
kindly  shouted  the  information  that  the  city  police  had  been  "  visiting  all  the 
rinks,  in  order  to  arrest  the  student  who  scared  a  horse  " ;  and  I  found,  when 
I  returned  to  my  lodgings,  at  noon,  that  official  enquiry  had  actually  been 
made  for  me  there.  I  hastened  down  to  police  headquarters,  therefore,  to 
demand  an  explanation  of  the  threatened  outrage,  and  was  told  by  the  chief 
that  there  had  been  no  pretense  of  authority  to  arrest,  but  that,  as  a  personal 
favor  to  the  owner  of  the  horse,  he  had  instructed  some  of  his  men  to  dis- 
cover the  velocipedist's  identity.  He  gave  me  the  address  of  the  owner 
(Rosenbluth  by  name,  broker  and  general  agent  by  occupation,  German  Jew 
by  descent),  and  I  at  once  repaired  thither  to  learn  what  might  be  wanted. 
The  man  said  that  a  large  swelling  had  appeared  on  the  spot  where  the  horse 
tried  to  run  the  post  into  his  belly;  that  hfc  valued  the  beast  at  $150  and 
should  hold  me  responsible  if,  as  seemed  probable,  he  were  to  die ;  but  that 
he  would  accept  a  tender  of  $50,  in  lieu  of  all  prospective  damages.  In- 
stead of  greedily  jumping  at  this  liberal  offer,  I  divided  the  sum  of  $4  equally 
between  a  horse-doctor  and  a  lawyer.  The  former,  having  examined  the 
horse,  suggested  that  he  might  hardly  sell  for  more  than  $50,  even  without 
the  swelling,  and  that  this  might  soon  disappear  (as  in  fact  it  did).  The  law- 
yer advised  me  that  I  was  not  responsible  for  any  penalty ;  and  I  sent  a  note 
of  that  effect  to  the  owner.  I  repeated  my  decision  to  him,  verbally,  the  next 
morning,  when  he  accosted  me  at  the  gymnasium,  while  I  was  engaged  in  my 
customary  club-swinging.    And  these  be  the  final  words  of  Rosenbluth,  as 


396         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

recorded  in  my  journal  of  March  5 :    "So  you  says  you  pay  me  noting  ?    Ver' 
well  I    I  '11  sue  you,  if  it  costs  me  five  tousand  dollar  1 " 

On  the  face  of  the  facts,  as  here  minutely  presented  by  the  chief  actor  ia 
them,  there  seems  little  excuse  for  making  this  a  "celebrated  case";  bot 
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  lines)  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  coll^^e,  a- 
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  1 
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  putigent  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; 


BONE-SHAKER  DA  YS. 


397 


but  even  the  smaller  ones  fonn  a  basis  for  considerable  lying  and  misrepre- 
sentation in  the  columns  of  the  local  papers.  It  is  a  traditional  complaint  in 
undergraduate  journals,  that  collegians  are  the  only  class  of  American  youth 
whose  harmless  horse-play  and  petty  escapades  are  systematically  paraded  in 
the  public  press  and  solemnly  discoursed  upon  by  the  heavy  moralists ;  and 
whose  athletic  pastimes  (though  notoriously  confined  to  a  few  hours  of  leisure) 
are  habitually  joked  about,  by  the  public  humorists,  as  if  comprising  the 
whole  sum  of  college  life.  These  complaints  are  entirely  just,  but  the  evils 
complained  of  are  a  natural  part  of  the  situation :  they  merely  show  the  re- 
l2ition8hip  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 
on  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.  I 
regret  my  neglect  in  failing  to  preserve  the  names  of  the  papers  to  which  the 
scTcral  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  is 
known  in  a  newspaper  office  as  "  intelligent  condensation," — the  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,  "  had  the  genius  to  "  boil  down  the 
whole  business  into  a  single  line,"  containing  a  single  lie  eight  times  as  im- 
probable as  any  one  of  those  in  the  original  I  This,  surely,  was  a  master 
stroke  in  the  direction  of  securing  "  readableness."  The  simple  majesty  of 
such  falsification  compels  me  to  pay  the  tribute  of  italics.* 

^  "On  Wednesday,  a  student  riding  a  velocipede,  in  attempting  to  cross  a  street  m  the  upper 
port  of  the  city,  ran  into  a  horse,  throwing  the  animal  down,  and  in  attempting  to  rise  the  ani- 
mal breached  himself,  and  it  is  expected  he  will  have  to  be  kiUed.    The  owner  considered  him 


398  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

I  remember  that  one  of  the  rinks  kept  on  exhibition  a  venerable  ''▼eloca^* 
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  'v^ 
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  Un  miles  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  Courant  of  February  13,  1869,  had  a  column  sketch, 
"  Half-Hours  With  the  Best  Velocipedes,"  descriptive  of  the  editor's  experi- 
ence. The  first  words  were  i  **  We  caught  the  fever,"  and  the  last :  "  Long 
live  It-of-the-swift-foot  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  the 
city  for  beginners,  without  meeting  the  great  demand ;  and  Hoad  promises 
that  a  third  (the  basement  of  Music  Hall)  shall  be  in  readiness  for  the 
knights  of  the  bicycle  by  Thursday  evening.  The  proposition  for  turning 
Brothers  and  Linonia  (debating-society  halls)  into  one  commodious  velod- 

worth  #300,  and  calls  upon  the  Junior  for  that  amount.  So  much  for  the  velocipede  mania. 
We  expect  items  of  a  similar  character  daily,  soon." — Ntw  Haven  Journal  and  Cffurier^  FA. 
a6,  1869.  (a)  "  The  velocipede  mania  has  fairly  taken  hold  of  the  dty.  Four  rinks  are  ceii> 
stantly  filled,  day  and  evening,  by  novices  learning  how  to  manage  the  machine.  A  laigc  nni> 
her  of  those  engaged  in  the  exercise  are  Yale  students,  many  of  whom  appear  upon  the  stieett 
with  the  vehicles  and  ride  them  with  much  skill.  On  Wednesday  a  Junior,  in  crossing  a  street 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  dty,  ran  into  a  horse,  causing  the  horse  to  throw  himself.  The  hant 
on  attempting  to  rise  sustained  injuries  which  it  is  thought  will  necessitate  his  death,  and  the 
owner  calls  upon  the  student  for  $300  damages."  (3)  "A  velodpedist,  who  coold  not  contnl 
his  '  animal*  attempted  to  cross  a  street  ia  the  upper  part  of  the  dty,  Wednesday,  a4th,  wfaea 
he  collided  with  a  horse,  throwing  the  beast  down;  and,  as  the  horse  attempted  to  get  up,  he 
was  so  injured  that  he  will  have  to  be  killed.  The  owner  wants  the  Junior  to  pony  up  $3oa" 
(4)  "A  velocipedist  ran  his  machine  into  a  horse  while  crossing  a  street  recently.  The  bone 
was  thrown  down,  and  in  attempting  to  get  up  was  so  badly  injured  as  to  be  worthless.  The 
owner  of  the  horse  now  wants  I300  damages."  (5)  "A  student  riding  a  velodpede  in  New 
Haven  recently  ran  into  a  horse,  throwing  the  animal  down,  and,  it  is  supposed,  fatally  injariif 
it.  The  owner  values  the  horse  at  I300,  and  calls  upon  the  student  for  that  amou&L  We  o- 
pect  to  have  to  chronicle  several  acddents  of  this  nature  before  the  velodpede  season  doici 
If  the  velocipedestrians  get  too  thick  on  the  sidewalks,  the  other  pedestrians  will  have  to  pro* 
vide  themselves  with  stout  canes  for  emergendes."  (6)  "A  Yale  student  ran  his  velocqiede 
against  and  threw  down  a  valuable  horse  in  New  Haven,  the  other  day,  and  the  owner  wiati 
I300  from  the  unlucky  rider,  because  the  hone  is  fatally  injured."  (7)  "A  vekxspedist  in  New 
Haven,  last  week,  while  crossing  a  street,  ran  into  a  horse  and  knocked  him  down.  The  bant 
was  so  injured  by  the  fall  that  the  owner  was  obliged  to  kill  him,  and  he  now  holds  the  veIo» 
pcdc  rider  responsible  to  the  extent  of  $300."  (8)  "A  Yale  student,  the  other  day,  wW- 
peded  against  a  valuable  horse.  The  animal  died,  and  the  owner  daima  $300  from  the  fatti 
velodpedist. "     (9)  "  -«4  J^*m  Hav*n  velociptdiU  ran  cvtr  a  hor*«  amd kUUd Aim." 


BONE-SHAKER  DA  YS.  399 

pede  arena  has  been  actually  agitated  about  college  for  some  time,  since  the 
appearance  of  the  fascinating  bicyculars.    Bring  on  your  '  glorious  memories,' 
ye  babblers  of  the  forum,  for  these  Philistines  be  upon  thee ;  these  Gauls  a»- 
sault  your  very  senate  chamber ;  these  '  wabblers '  mean  business.    Already 
have  Xh^/ervideB  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 
flimsy  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  is  to  the  boat-house  in  twelve  minutes,  and  back ; 
distance,  a  mile  and  a  quarter."    The  latter  remark  is  ambiguous,  but,  as  I  do 
not  believe  that  any  Yale  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 
tUung.    No  races  took  place  at  New  Haven,  either  in  the  rinks  or  on  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  find,  on  turning  to 
my  own  printed  chronicle  of  those  times,  that  the  actual  period  of  my  resist- 
ance to  temptation  was  only  four  days  !  Though  the  craze  had  captured  New 
York  on  New  Year's,  it  was  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-talk  on  the  subject,  my  recollection  may  not 
have  been  entirely  at  fault,  however,  because  the  current  newspaper  gossip 
must  have  attracted  some  attention,  and  some  of  the  many  undergraduates 
who  spent  their  vacation  in  the  big  city  must  have  brought  back  stories  of 
the  "  wheelomania "  which  prevailed  there.  My  own  earliest  printed  para- 
graph on  the  subject  is  this  (written  February  4,  1869,  the  self-same  day  that 
I  first  saw  a  bone-shaker) :  "  The  velocipede  is  the  plaything  of  the  hour 
among  the  Seniors,  who  find  in  its  subtle  and  alluring  capabilities  their  chief 
amusement."  The  progress  and  decline  of  the  furor  were  minutely  chroni- 
cled in  three  successive  monthly  issues  of  the  Yale  Literary  Magasiru^  from 
which  I  will  now  present  extracts,  with  the  date  of  each.  The  first  two  were 
written  by  myself,  and  the  verses  have  since  tfeen  the  light  in  the  Wheelman 
(July,  1883,  pp.  256,  311).  The  record  also  has  a  certain  historic  value,  as 
representing  in  a  general  way  what  happened,  during  that  exciting  period,  at 
every  other  considerable  college,  and  every  other  wide-awake  city,  throughout 
the  entire  land.    In  my  tours,  it  is  a  common  experience  to  meet  with  men— 


400  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

of  great  diversity  in  character  and  occupation,  but  resembling  each  other  in  re- 
spect to  being  about  forty  years  old — who  are  inspired  by  the  sight  of  the  new 
bicycle  to  recount  to  me  the  comic  experiences  of  their  "  bone-shaker  days." 

"  By  all  odds,  the  liveliest  things  of  the  month  have  been  the  velocipedes,  whidi  of  tfaest- 
selves  ought  to  make  February,  1869,  famous  in  our  history.    They  came  to  town  the  first  day 
of  the  month.    The  old    church  on  the  comer  of  State  and  Court  sts.  was  turned  into   a 
riding-room,  and  beginners  were  'at  it/  night  and  day,  for  the  space  of  a  week.    Then  Ae 
shop-keepers    below  objected  to  having    the  plaster  from  the    walls  sprinkled   upon  them 
longer,  and  so  the  rink  was  closed.    On  the  loth,  two  clerks  from  Springfield  opened  a  new 
school  in  Literary  Hall,  on  State  St. ;  but  they,  too,  at  the  end  of  a  very  successful  week,  were 
obl^ed  to  'move  on,*  and  so  went  home  with  their  machines.    Thatcher  &  Co.    *  ran  a  rink  * 
at  DeGarmo's  old  dancing  hall,  303  Chapel  St.,  for  the  week  ending  on  the  aodi,  and  were 
then  forced  out  of  the  building,  as  the  others  had  been  from  the  other  places,  on  acooont  o<  loo 
much  falling  plaster.    Their  present  riding-room,  comer  of  Crown  and  Park  sts.,  is  better  than 
those  already  mentioned,  and  altogether  superior  to  the  only  other  one  now  in  operadoo : 
Hoadley's,  established  in  the  basement  of  Music  Hall,  on  the  18th.     Hoad.,  however,  was  one 
of  the  first  to  introduce  the  '  veloss,'  and  had  several  machines  at  his  store,  ready  for  ont- 
door  usage,  within  a  day  or  two  of  the  opening  of  the  earliest  rink.    Eli  Hill  soon  followed  fab 
example.    l*homas  Brothers  have  several  machines  to  let,  at  their  headquarters,  the  Madison 
House,  on  State  st ;  and  Oatman,  at  the  Park  House,  on  Chapel  St.,  opposite  the  green,  is  the 
latest  claimant  for  bicycular  profits.     A  cent  a  minute  is  the  ustial  tax,  though  Hoad.  lets  ma- 
chines for  out-door  use  at  a  half-dollar  an  hour,  and  possibly  the  terms  of  some  of  the  otben 
are  as  low.    The  thirty  or  more  velocipedes  thus  at  tfie  service  of  the  public  are  constantly  ia 
use,  and  earning  a  neat  little  sum  for  their  owners.    The  two  rinks  dose  at  10  o'dodk  m  the 
evening,  and,  unless  the  weather  prevents,  ardent  velocipedists  are  driving  about  the  green,  or 
the  different  streets,  until  that  hour.     Machines  can  be  engaged  for  a  single  day  only  in  ad> 
vance ;  and  he  must  get  up  very  early  in  the  morning  who  would  be  sure  of  '  a  good  choice  * 
for  the  following  day.    The  walks  on  the  green  are  naturally  the  great  resort,  but  the  broad 
sidewalk  at  the  west  end  of  Chapel  st.  is  the  best  course  we  have  yet  discovered,  while  Howe 
and  Dwight  sts.  offer  good  fadlities.    A  great  many  people,  who,  if  they  have  n*t  been  injured 
by  the  bicycle,  imagine  they  might  have  been  or  may  be,  and  who  in  any  case  hate  to  see  od»> 
ers  enjoy  themselves,  have  lodged  complaints  with  the  authorities,  and  it  is  probable  that  the 
city  fathers  may  order  velodpedes  to  be  kept  from  the  sidewalks  altogether, — though  no  nefa 
action  has  yet  been  taken,  in  spite  of  the  rumors.    The  machines  in  the  riding-rooms  are  mostly 
poor  ones—*  good  enough  for  beginners,  you  know  *— and  cost  from  lso  to  $75.    Those  rented 
for  out-door  use,  patented  by  Pickering,  Wood,  Monod,  Witty  and  others,  are  less  clumsy,  and 
are  supposed  to  be  worth  from  $75  to  Iras.     ^^  si^^  ^he  names  in  the  order  of  merit,  as  it  ap- 
pears to  us,  though  many  account  Wood's  the  best  machine.     Every  one  ia  w^ting  for  die  price 
to  fall  before  purchasing,  and  no  college  man  yet  boasts  a  bicyde  of  his  own.    The  Lit.  editors 
are  all  vdodpedists,  with  the  disgraceful  exception  of  a  single  individtud.    He  perrerscly  pre- 
tends to  admire  the  ungainly  three-wheeled  machine,  which  by  its  occanonal  appearances  exdtes 
the  unqualified  disgust  of  all  who  are  capable  of  ^predating  better  things.     Even  the  so- 
called  '  skatorial  queen '  mounts  a  two-wheeler  in  going  through  with  bar  '  great  velocipede 
act,'  at  the  'calico  ball,'  next  week."    (March  i,  1869,  pp.  355,  256.) 

"  Spite  of  the  bad  weather,  velodpedes  have  held  their  own,  during  the  post  month,  and 
have  recompensed  their  owners.  The  rink  on  Park  st  has  just  been  supplied  with  a  new  floor- 
ing and  other  improvements,*  and  is  equipped  with  a  dosen  machines,  indoding  levenl  new 
ones.  The  proprietor  is  also  preparing  a  quarter-mile  track,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Sarin 
Rock,  which  is  expected  to  be  in  readiness  for  out'door  riders  and  raoers  abont  the  middk  of 
May.  Going  down  Crown  st.  we  come  to  Hoadley's  new  rink,  opened  March  24,  in  the  base- 
ment of  Music  Hall.  This  is  also  supplied  with  a  doten  machines,  and  it  has  the  advan- 
ce of  the  others  in  the  nutter  of  location,  but  it  affords  no  special  fadlities  for  begiuoen. 


BONE-SHAKER  DAYS.  401 

*Way  down  town,  oa  Franklin  sL ,  we  climb  up  fo«tr  flights  of  stairs  and  reach  the  big  *  Elm 
City  Rink,'*  opened  March  16.  Barring  the  diflkulty  of  getting  to  it,  this  is  the  best  in  New 
Haven,  as  it  certainly  is  the  largest  It  claims,  indeed,  to  be  the  lai^est  in  New  England,  and 
its  outer  track  measures  one-eixteenth  of  a  mile,  exclusive  of  a  good-sized  L,  reserved  for  be- 
ginners.  Its  stock  of  machines  comprises  eighteen,  mostly  of  the  '  Hartford '  pattern,  but  is 
soon  to  be  increased  by  several  'Pickerings'  and  'Monods.'  Hoad.'s  original  'Pickering,'. 
■  by  the  way,  is  the  only  one  thns  far  owned  in  the  city,  and  we  are  fully  confirmed  in  our  opinion 
diat  it  is  the  best  variety  which  has  yet  been  put  forth.  The  two  first-mentioned  rinks  rent  ma- 
chines for  usage  upon  the  street,  as  do  also  three  or  four  other  concerns.  A  cent  a  minute  still 
eancinues  to  be  the  regular  tax,  and  an  admission  fee  of  ten  or  fifteen  cents  is  generally 
charged  in  the  evening, — the  ticket  entitling  the  visitor,  at  his  option,  to  a  similar  number  of 
minntes  upon  a  'veloss.*  The  subscription  paper  which  was  started  about  the  middle  of  Feb- 
ruary, for  the  purchase  of  velocipedes  for  the  gymnasium,  has  for  more  than  a  month  made  a 
moumfol  exhibition  of  the  two  lonely  legends  :  '  Instructor  in  gymnastics,  $25 ;  D.  J.  Merrill, 
class  of  '27,  $5.'  A  more  complicated  plan,  devised  by  the  same  instructor,  whereby  every 
sufascriher  for  the  purchase  of  gymnasium  velocipedes  was  to  have  a  proportionate  amount  of  rid- 
ing upon  the  same,  was  detailed  upon  several  sheets  of  foolscap  and  posted  in  the  reading- 
room  for  several  days ;  but  we  believe  it  fared  no  better  than  its  predecessor.  We  presume  the 
janitor  of  the  gym.  might  make  a  good  thing  by  getting  a  few  machines  and  renting  them 
at  low  rates  to  college  men ;  but  to  expect  the  latter  to  pledge  the  money  in  advance  is  absurd. 
Two  or  three  velocipedes  are  already  owned  in  collie,  and  doubtless  the  number  will  be  greatly 
inoieased  next  term.  They  as  yet  have  the  right  of  way  on  the  sidewalks,  and,  if  the  city  offi- 
cials have  any  idea  of  restricting  it,  we  are  sure  they  will  at  once  change  their  minds,  when  they 
read  the  '  prayer '  appended  to  this  chronicle.  These  verses,  by  the  way,  are  the  work  of  the 
'  private  sweep '  of  our  Class  Poet,  who  concocted  them  by  the  aid  of  the  latter's  rhyming  dic- 
ttooary,  while  he  (the  C.  P.)  was  absorbed  in  calculating  his  '  Index '  losses.  '  The  sweep '  also 
gave  us  a  list  of  words  rhyming  vrith  '  velocipede,'  in  addition  to  those  employed  by  himself, 
and  these  we  now  publish,  for  general  accommodation  :  'A  c-  re-  pre-  se-  ante-  super-  inter- 
cede, soli-  palmi-  multi-  plumi-  centi-  pede,  sue-  pro-  ex-  ceed,  feed,  bleed,  need,  deed,  reed, 
breed,  freed,  weed,  bead,  lead,  plead,  mislead,  mead,  read,  knead.'  Though  the  value  of  the 
I  indicated  is  almost  incalculable,  the  price  of  the  present  Lit.  will  remain  unchanged  : 

0  dty  fathers,  hear  my  prayer !     I'm  but  a  student,  yet  give  heed. 
And,  as  you  hope  for  mercy,  spare  I     Don't,  eUn^t  outlaw  Velocipede  I 
Why  banish  him  ?    He  does  no  harm  to  any  one.     Indeed,  indeed, 

1  know  the  timid  feel  alarm  and  hatred  for  Velocipede ; 
Bvt  yet  I  say  he  harms  them  not.    Their  fancy  't  is  which  seems  to  need 
Repression,  for  it  makes  them  plot  and  lie  against  Velocipede. 
Don't  believe  the  stories  that  they  tell,  of  accident  or  foul  misdeed ; 
ThtJanmaPs  *  horse '  long  since  got  well,  uninjured  by  Velocipede. 
*T  is  envy  simply  that 's  at  work  :  the  one  who  must  on  foot  proceed 
Feels  jealous  when,  with  artful  quirk,  another  rides  Velocipede. 
Some,  too,  there  are,  who  hate  all  fun ;  who  count  all  sport  of  ill  the  seed ; 
And  such  judge  that  the  Evil  One  himself  devised  Velocipede. 
But  those  who  believe  in  life,  and  joy,  and  jollity,  must  fain  concede 
The  many  virtues  of  this  toy  we  fondly  call  Velocipede. 
So  let  him  have  the  right  of  way  I    The  sidewalks  he  will  not  impede, 
Nor  force  the  footmen  to  delay  their  steps  for  him,  Velocipede. 
Or,  if  from  Chapel,  State  and  Church  you  order  him,  we  are  agreed. 
If,  leaving  these  streets  in  the  lurch,  elsewhere  may  roam  Velocipede. 
Now,  dty  fathers,  hear  my  prayer  t  I  'm  but  a  student,  yet  give  heed 
To  my  poor  words,  and  ^>are,  oh  1  spare  my  only  love,  Velocipede !  " 

(April  7, 1869,  pp.  395,  996,  308.  309.) 


402  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

'*  As  for  Telocipedes,  we  can  only  tell,  what  we  never  expected  to  have  to  teH*  ol  their  dy^ 
•  fang  days.  Alas  I  Poor  Yorick  I  A  dire  proouodamento  of  the  dty  fatben  (*  No  peraoa  ahaJ] 
oae  or  propel  by  riding  thereon  any  velocipede  along  or  upoa  any  paved  walk  in  said  dty,  ionaed 
for  the  convenience  cf  foot  passengers,  under  penalty  of  ^5 ')  has  sent  you  to  an  tmtiiBdy 
grave.  Many  diadples  mourn  their  loss ;  but  oolumns  full  of  complaints  have  availed  not  fior 
repealing  the  obnoxious  article.  A  couple  of  bold  riders,  v^o  Nvere  arrested  on  the  green, 
owed  their  release  to  the  fact  that  >«em/ walks  were  spedlied;  but  this  quibble  will  no  longs 
prevent  strict  justice  from  being  meted  out  to  all  offendere.  Antidpations  of  bright  «««^«"Sg^ 
rides  on  the  green,  on  summer  evenings,  have  faded  beneath  the  cruel  blow.  The  beA  rinks 
with  their  best  machines  at  35  cents  per  hour  cannot  rescue  the  dying-out  enthusiasm.  Mooods^ 
Pickerings,  and  Hartfords  are  temptingleas.  The  laxge  Vdodpedrome  at  the  Beach  Hook, 
Savin  Rock,  is  not  realizing  the  golden  eiq>ectations  of  its  builders.  Eli  has  grown  thin  from 
the  total  'sUndstill '  of  his  velodpede  stock.  The  corner  rink  at  Park  and  Crown  Bt&  ofios 
Ing  inducements ;  but  few  are  enticed.  Elm  Qty  sdll  assures  ns  that  his  building  is  wairaaied 
to  sUnd  for  ages;  but  few  attempt  to  test  the  accuracy  of  his  statements.  Here  and  there  aaoS- 
tary  rider  passes  along  the  college  yard,— sole  remnants  of  your  former  greatness,— sole  pnMfs 
of  what  you  might  have  been.  Nor  is  the  sky  overcast  with  drdes  of  hope.  No  moR  wiB 
your  followers  'see  sUrs.*  Signs  point  to  a  premature  death.  Yoar da^s are nonbered, O 
Velodpedus  I    The  Lit.  has  done  with  you. 

*Grecn  be  the  turf  above  thee,  friend  of  ray  earlier  days; 

None  knew  thee  but  to  love  thee ;  none  named  thee  but  to  pndae.'  ** 

(Mayas,  1869,  p.  36flL) 

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  pn>- 
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 flung  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  qoiet 
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  6f  Brother  Jona- 
than's antics.  The  British  bone-shaker  days  had  no  such  wildly  impetuous 
and  frcnziedly  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  J  *"^  neither  there  nor  here  nor  anywhere  in  the  world 
has  any  "  craze  "  or  "  mania  "  ever  been  developed  in  regard  to  the  modem 
bicycle.    This  gift  of  ail  the  ages  comes  to  all  countries  quietly,  as  if  coiv 


BONESHAKER  DA  YS.  403 

sdous  of  its  power  and  permanency.    It  causes  no  general  fuss  or  ferment ; 
it  asserts  its  supremacy  soberly;  but  it  comes  to  stay. 

The  furor  has  migrated  from  France  to  our  brethren  across  the  Atlantic,  passing  over  us. 
Tbe  go-ahead  Tehide  is  exactly  suited  to  American  ideas.  Schools,  with  the  imposing  name  of 
V^locintummi^  for  teaching  the  young  idea  how  to  gyrate,  are  being  established ;  races  are 
beii%  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  tliem  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 
Hamprt^'*^  Hiil. — The  G*ntUmat^s  MagasiiUf  London,  February,  1869. 

The  two  best  and  largest  rinks  in  ths  United  States  are  to  be  found  at  Harvard  Square, 
Cambridge.  One  of  them  has  ia,ooo  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 
ocmne,  in  zj  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  35 
maciiines,  and,  at  their  recent '  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  Sum^  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  bicircU 
or  vtlace,  by  which  it  was  possible  for  an  active  Frenchman  to  traverse  ten  miles  of  the  streets 
of  Paris  in  a  single  hour.  Tlie  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  schooUbooks  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  over.  The  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher  has  secured  two  of  the 
American  machines,  and  other  gentlemen,  vrell  known  in  the  literary  and  artistic  world,  sue 
possessed  of  their  magic  cirdes.  One  of  them  takes  his  ride  of  nearly  ten  miles  daily,  and 
sates  time  as  weU  as  enjoying  the  ride.  A  number  of  persons  are  already  making  iise  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- 
ers 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  siaed  machine  is  about  60  lbs.,  and  the 
Mse  of  driving-wheel  most  in  favor  from  30  to  36  in.  The  winter  season  is  not  favorable  to 
ss^^#-riding,  bat  with  opening  of  spring  we  may  expect  to  see  the  two-wheeled  affairs  gliding 
gfacefully  about  the  streets  and  whisiing  swiftly  through  the  smooth  roads  of  Central  Park.— 
H«rP€r*s  Weekly y  Dec.  19,  1868,  p.  811. 

The  above  extract  from  that  well-edited  and  really  representative  "  journal  of  civilization  " 
exhilnts  the  date  of  its  earliest  mention  of  the  matter,  which  was  made  to  accompany  a  pair  of 
pictnres:  "  Velocipede  Race  in  Paris  on  Sunday  Afternoon  "  and  "The  American  Veloci- 
pede." The  fcnner,  reproduced  from  a  fordgn  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 
lackering  machine,  which  was  described  in  the  following  words  from  the  Scientific  A  merican : 
"  It  differs  from  the  French  veioce  in  the  arrangement  of  the  tiller,  which  is  brought  well  back 
and  sufficiently  high  to  alk>w  of  a  perfectly  upright  position  in  riding.  The  stirrups  or  crank 
pedals  au«  three-sided,  with  circular  flanges  at  each  end  \  and,  as  they  turn  on  the  crank  pins, 


404  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  pressure  of  the  foot  will  always  bring  one  of  the  three  sidet  into  praper  pontJOB.  The 
connecting  apparatus  difCers  from  that  of  the  French  bicsrde  in  that  the  saiidli^-har  aerres  ooij 
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^iriog  b 
compressed  and  the  brake  attached  to  it  is  brought  firmly  down  upon  the  wheeL"  Hmrfer's 
Weekly  afterwards  printed  (Feb.  30,  1869,  p.  124)  the  picture  of  '*  an  ice  veloapede  leceullj 
seen  on  the  river  near  Tanrytown.  It  has  but  one  wheel,  whose  tire  is  armed  with  sharp  points 
to  prevent  slipping.  The  frame  b  supported  behind  by  two  steel  runners,  like  those  attached 
to  ice-boats,  and  the  machine  is  propelled  with  astonishing  rapidity  '*  This  was  followed 
(March  6,  p.  149)  by  a  reproduction  of  "  the  picture  published  by  Ackermanof  Loodoo  in  rSig^ 
showing  precisely  the  same  thing  as  the  veloapede  which  is  just  at  this  moment  so  pcq^olar  in 
New  York,  except  in  the  crank  or  treadle.**  Quotations  from  a  weekly  paper  of  Angnst  of 
that  year  are  appended  to  show  that  "our  excitable  citizens  went  into  an  ecstasy  of  astoot^ 
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-century  ago  soon  died  out  m  New  York,  and  the  people  who  had 
purchased  machines  at  high  prices  gave  them  away  as  playthings  for  grown-up  boys.  Tune 
must  decide  whether  history  is  to  repeat  itself.  At  present,  however,  there  Rems  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  1S19  (pp.  14, 
is),  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  is  said  that 
the  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  Uulies  and  gentlemen  of  the  place.  He  afterward  made  a  long  excuisiun 
to  France  upon  it;  fen*  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  veloss  "  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 
pearcd  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  $80;  but  I  bought  a  second-hand  one  of  the  ex-keeper 
of  a  rink,  paying  %7x>  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  roo 


BONE-SHAKER  DA  YS,  405 

true,*'  as  originally  warranted.  I  denied  his  assertion,  but  my  denial  did  not 
avail  to  loosen  his  hold  on  the  $20 ;  and  so  I  sent  the  Pickering  home  in  a 
cart.  I  took  short  rides  with  it,  every  day  or  two,  until  the  end  of  October ; 
and,  on  a  half-dozen  occasions,  during  the  latter  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,  for  I  oftener  em- 
ployed a  horse  to  draw  me  thither,  in  spite  of  my  indifference  to  driving. 
My  latest  entry  concerning  this  machine  shows  that  on  the  first  day  of  De- 
cember **  I  rode  a  little  in  attic,  in  addition  to  usual  exercise."  This  usual 
exercise  was  club-swinging,  to  which  I  gave  about  a  half-hour  daily ;  and  the 
scene  of  it  was  the  top  story  of  a  large  storehouse,  whose  floor  furnished  a 
smooth  riding-surface,  but  whose  converging  rafters  restricted  the  scope  of  it. 
How  much  or  how  little  I  circled  there,  on  the  ifeloct,  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  open  air,  for,  when  the  warm 
weather  returned,  I  presented  it  to  a  twelve-year-old  boy,  who  has  preserved 
it,  I  believe,  even  unto  the  present  time.  When  he  last  dragged  it  out  for 
my  inspection,  a  year  or  two  ago,  I  was  impressed  with  surprise  at  my  ever 
having  had  the  ability  to  ride  it,  and  at  my  ever  having  had  the  infatuation  to 
see  grace  and  loveliness  in  its  clumsy  outlines. 

My  post-collegiate  experiences  with  the  bone-shaker  were  doubtless  re- 
stricted by  my  lack  of  leisure  for  indulging  the  hobby ;  for  it  was  during  the 
half-year  that  ended  with  the  last  day  of  April,  1870,  that  I  wrote  *'  Four 
Years  at  Yale,"  a  sort  of  cyclopedia  of  undergraduate  life  there,  or  matter- 
of-fact  presentation  of  student  customs  and  traditions.  The  production  of 
such  a  manuscript  (950  large  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  velocipeding. 
During  a  nine  months*  European  tour  which  began  in  October,  187 1, 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  1,050  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  seemed  to  me  a  small  price  to  pay  for  the  privi- 
lege of  witnessing  so  sublime  a  spectacle.  I  record  the  date  of  it  here,  how- 
ever, only  because  that  was  the  last  day  when  I  ever  put  myself  astride  of  d 
bone-shaker,  as  shown  by  this  entry'*(June  7,  1872) :  "  After  regretfully  tak- 
ing leave  of  the  dogs,  I  went  out  into  the  garden  of  the  palace  and  hired  a 
velocipede  '  for  an  hour ' ;  but  I  got  enough  of  it  in  ten  minutes,  because  of 
the  wetness  of  the  ground  and  the  badness  of  the  machine.  I  prove  to  my 
own  satisfaction,  however,  that  I  still  know  how  to   ride."    My  memory  of 


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  omnibos  or 
horse-car ;  though  when  I  went  to  London  again,  in  December,  1875, 1  saw  to 
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  mr 
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  iul-de^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  mc 
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  aCs  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  which  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  hit 
whole  course  of  life,  such  as  my  actual  adoption  of  the  wheel,  three  vears 
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  owi\  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.  b.*" 
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,  lo  weU  supplied — as  I^oodon? 
Opulent,  enlarged,  and  still  increasing  London !  *' 


XXVIII. 

CURL.* 

Curl  was  th^best  dog  that  ever  lived.  His  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.  He  was  neither  a  gentleman  nor 
a  scholar, — ^for  he  was  born  in  a  beer-saloon  kept  by  an  Irishman,  and  the 
discipline  of  his  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, — ^as  a  vague,  overhanging  terror,  to  discourage  and 
dishearten  the  prospective  docr-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 
stiffened  and  confirmed  in  the  right  direction  by  an  ever-present  belief  that, 
if  he  sneaks  back  in  the  night  time  for  the  special  and  improper  task  of 
lugging  off  a   load  of  farm-produce,   or  if  he   attempts  to  offer  personal 

*Sce  heliotype  portrait  facing  the  titl«-page.  The  likeoess  was  made  by  the  Photo-Gravure 
Compaoy,  of  853  Broadway,  N.  Y. .  from  the  original  ambrotype,  taken  by  A.  F.  Daniels,  at 
Chioopee,  Mass.,  Dec  24,  1858.  This  biographical  sketch  of  Curl  was  unanimously  rejected  by 
the  editors  of  a  dozen  magazines  to  whose  inspection  I  submitted  it,  though  my  own  necessarily 
partial  judgment  attributes  to  it  the  possession  of  more  "contemporaneous  human  interest,*' 
with  regpcct  to  the  general  reader,  than  attaches  to  an3rthing  else  contained  in  the  book.  Copies 
of  this  chapter  (with  heliotype  appenda!)  will  be  mailed  by  the  publisher  for  25  c  each. 


4o8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

violence  to  his  employer,  the  jaws  of  a  powerful  bull-dog  will  simultaneoosk 
fasten  upon  his  throat  with  the  remorselessness  of  an  avenging  angel. 

Here,  then,  was  Curl's  opportunity ;  and  wonderfully  well  did  be  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  n^embers  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,  m  essence  and 
intention,  the  mildest-mannered  dog  that  ever  scuttled  home  to  gnaw  a  bonel 
Not  so  much  as  once  in  all  his  long  life  did  he  ever  inflict  a  bite  upon  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.  In  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  beyflnd  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  admired 
head,  "when  I  was  twelve  and  he  was  two,*'  is  a  speaking  portrait,  possessed 
of  a  lifelike  force  and  vigor  which  no  photographic  reproduction  has  been 
able  to  do  justice  to,  and  which  the  heliotype  copy  now  presented  as  a  frontis- 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS. 


409 


piece  to  this  book  fails  adequately  to  depict.    Gazing  upon  that  ambrotype 
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  CurKs 
features  for  me  with  such  '*  immortal  freshness/'  I  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  shrinking  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  brindled  patches,  of  irregular  shape,  which  I  con- 
sidered veritable  beauty-spots,  though  the  one  of  them  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  going  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  cropi>ed,  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 
tongutf.     These  two  latter  ceremonies  are  dear  to  the  heart  of  Hibernian 
superstition,  as  supremely  important  steps  in  the  preliminary  training  of  a 
successful  fighter  i  and  the  inestimable  value  of  them  was  dwelt  upon  with 
great  earnestness  when  the  time  came  for  naming  the  price  at  which  this 
most  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- 
gery,  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 
a  fairly  graphic  touch  by  the  professional  poet  of  Pttck^  when  he  put  forth 
this  "  impression  "  : 

Bow-legged  champion  of  the  town,  you  yawn  and  lick  your  chops  with  glee, 
And  watcli  the  cat  ascend  the  tree  like  lightning,  when  you  deign  to  frown. 
You  chew  all  enemies  to  pulp,  and,   neath  the  light  of  summer  moons. 
The  lover's  doe-skin  pantaloons  you  swallow  at  a  single  gulp. 

It  was  the  lover's  spotted  coach-dog,  however, — sleek  and  gentle  as  a 


4IO  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

kitten, — that  excited  the  baser  passions  of  the  real  Carl,  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 ! '  and  it  *% 
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  Jeny- 
Crunchcr-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  breakii%  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  dcs- 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS,  411 

perately  for  the  fray  when  "  held  back  by  their  friends.**  Bat  each  dog  was 
at  heart  a  trifle  afraid  of  the  other ;  and  I  think  they  had  secretly  signed  a 
mutua.!  compact  that  the  test  of  superior  prowess  shonld  never  really  be  made. 
Even  in  his  most  confidential  moments,  however,  Carl  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  hia  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  irom  his  gate  and  barked 
viciously  at  Curl  who  was  proudly  rolling  by  in  an  empty  market-wagon,  and 
was  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  6f  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  1    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  uldmatdj 
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  thorongli 
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  yoa  pleaae ; 
I  go  for  the  dog,  the  wise  old  dog,  that  knowingly  lakes  his  ease. 
And,  wagging  his  tail  outside  the  ring, — keeping,  always,  his  bone  faa  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,  I  had  rather  be  the  outside  dog  in  the  fighu 
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 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS.  413 

dinner-bell,  by  which  the  men  in  the  field  were  ordered  to  quit  work  at  noon 
a.nd  night,  also  had  a  sort  of  horrible  fascination  for  Curl.  He  would  place 
Himself  as  close  as  possible  to  the  ringer,  throw  back  his  ears,  lift  his  nose 
straight  up  to  the  sky,  and  dolefully  howl  a  prolonged  howl  of  despair.  I 
myself  used  to  be  greatly  entertained  by  these  dismal  outpourings,  and  I 
"vrould  sometimes  jangle  the  bell  for  Curl's  special  edification  ;  but  other  peo- 
ple did  not  like  them,  and  some  of  the  superstitious  would  secretly  say  that 
they  "  boded  a  death  in  the  family." 

The  Fourth  of  July  was  a  grievous  day  for  Curl,  and  care  had  to  be 
taken  then  to  prevent  him  from  committing  involuntary  suicide,  so  eager  was 
he  to  attack  and  suppress  the  explosion  of  gunpowder  ih  any  and  every  shape. 
He  would  pounce  upon  and  try  to  bite  a  pack  of  exploding  fire-crackers,  un- 
less dragged  away  from  them  by  main  force ;  and,  had  the  monster  "cannon 
crackers"  of  the  present  day  been  then  in  vogue,  he  would  doubtless  have  had 
his  jaws  blown  off  while  furtively  endeavoring  to  bite  into  silence  one  of 
those  hissing  enemies.  Once,  when  I  inadvertently  left  a  Roman  candle 
blazing  in  the  ground,  I  was  reminded  of  his  pre^nce  by  hearing  his  teeth 
snapping  above  it ;  and  his  whiskers  had  been  singed  off  before  he  could  be 
rescued.  On  the  same  evening,  while  I  was  standing  on  a  hot-bed  frame,  wav- 
ing another  candle  aloft,  Curl  gave  a  running  jump  with  all  his  force,  in  the 
direction  of  the  fire,  and  striking  me  in  the  stomach,  knocked  me  backward 
into  the  soft  earth  of  the  hot-bed, — ^my  head  just  barely  escaping  contact  with 
the  cross-bar  of  the  frame,  which  contact  would  probably  have  been  fatal.  It 
was  rare  sport,  however,  to  fire  a  pin-wheel,  just  high  enough  to  be  out  of 
Curl's  reach,  but  not  too  high  to  discourage  him  from  jumping  at  it.  Jump  he 
would,  tirelessly,  so  long  as  the  wheel  continued  to  whirl ;  and  the  sparks, 
which  formed  a  halo  about  his  head,  expired  harmlessly  at  the  instant  of  con- 
tact with  it.  To  send  Curl  in  pursuit  of  a  fiery  snake  or  "  chaser,"  was  also 
another  approved  diversion  :  one  instant  his  white  form  would  be  seen  speed- 
ing along,  illuminated  by  the  shower  of  sparks  streaming  from  the  tail  of  the 
"  snake  " — and  the  next  instant,  through  the  blackness  of  darkness,  would  be 
heard  the  dog's  puzzled  grunt,  proclaiming  his  surprise  at  the  sudden  disap- 
pearance of  the  ignis  fatuus. 

The  setting  off  of  fireworks  was  not,  however,  the  only  sort  of  human 
activity  which  Curl  resented  as  immoral.  It  grieved  him  greatly  to  see  any 
one  walking  on  the  roofs  of  the  house  and  barns ;  or  to  hear  the  district- 
school  children  rattle  their  sticks  along  the  picket  fence;  and  the  rapid 
trundling  of  an  empty  wheelbarrow  upon  the  brick  sidewalk  awakened  his 
active  hostility.  He  would  endeavor  to  retard  its  progress  by  pressing  his 
thick  neck  against  the  revolving  wheel,  or  even  by  biting  it,  and  the  sides  of 
the  barrow.  He  never  interfered  with  this  when  it  was  loaded  with  vege- 
tables, nor  when  it  was  wheeled  slowly  about,  even  if  empty ;  but  any  attempt 
to  push  it  rapidly,  as  a  matter  of  sport,  he  considered  highly  improper.  It 
was  a  convention  with  him  also  to  assume  great  anger  whenever  I  pounded 


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  designatec^  Inr 
a  sign  of  large  letters,  as  belonging  specially  to  "THE  DORG."  Tlie 
sham-fights  which  I  there  used  to  engage  in  with  the  beloved  beast  were 
fi<»nething  terrible  to  behold, — ^by  any  one  who  did  not  know  that  his  frantk 
manifestations  of  the  wildest  rage  were  mere  humorous  assumptions.  It  was 
all  in  fun.  The  minute  that  my  desperate  attack  upon  his  castle  ceased,  be 
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,  be 
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  nejct  one.  Had  it  been 
allowable  to  persist  in  any  such  cruel  experiment,  I  know  that  Curl  wouU 
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  1 "  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  stem  of  this  was  conspicuously  lettered  "  The  Bull 
£>org."    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  thaf  I  meditated  no  return  to  the 
river.    Once  ox  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  trpe  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  was  buttermilk,  and,  in  respect  to 
the  imbibing  of  this,  he  also  showed  a  perverse  preference  for  the  pail  de- 
voted to  the  pigs,  rather  than  for  his  own  proper  basin.  If  the  cats  ap- 
proached the  brimmix^  edge  of  the  latter,  however,  after  he  had  gorged  him- 


410  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  delicaci^  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  CurPs  flat  nose  covered  the  bs»in, 
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  **  There!  Curl,"  or  •«  There] 
Jack,"  uttered  in  his  absence,  was  always  understood  by  him,  when  he  heard 
it,  as  signif3ring  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  tlje  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  rae 
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  assodatioos  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,  proved 


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  liim  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  fl>nng.  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  official  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, 
«7 


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  inten(ness  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,  dt 
assuming  a  particularly  fixed  and  stony  stare,  gazing  straight  into  vacancy 
until  a  fiy  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  coston 
to  accelerate  his  Aiovements  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  woodchacfc»  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  conclnsioo. 
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  bat  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  u 
if  I  saw  it  yesterday,  instead  of  in  one  of  those  remote  summers  "before  the 
war  " — the  look  of  agonized  bewilderment  that  overspread  Curl's  face  when, 
on  reaching  the  crest  of  the  hill  by  the  bam,  he  twisted  his  head  far  enough 
around  to  see  that  one  of  these  tormentors  was  still  clinging  to  him  and  vig- 
orously •*  putting  in  his  work."  Curl's  jaws  snapped  despairingly  within  an 
inch  or  so  of  the  unapproachable  bee,  which  was  lodged  exactly  in  the  center 
of  his  back ;  and  further  rollings  on  the  ground  were  equally  in  vain  ;  but, 
finally,  at  the  saw-horse,  he  scraped  himself  free. 

There  was  only  one  other  occasion  in  Curl's  life  when  he  was  thorongkly 
abashed  and  disconcerted  and  robbed  of  his  self-conceit,  by  the  undeniable 
superiority  of  a  fellow-animal.  It  was  the  day  he  saw  the  elephant.  He  had 
barked  with  gay  superciliousness  at  the  circus-wagons,  and  had  sniffed  the  sniff 
of  contempt  at  the  horsemen  ;  but  when  this  vast  and  incredible  mass  of  an- 
imated matter  loped  across  his  field  of  vision.  Curl  was  simply  overwhelmed, 
stupefied,  paralyzed.  His  tail  dropped,  his  legs  trembled  and  refused  to  support 
him,  his  body  shivered  and  shook  as  with  a  fit  of  ague,  in  the  presence  of  this 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS. 


419 


ipgantic  monster  whose  existence  had  never  been  dreamed  of.  Currs  belief 
in  his  own  magnificence  shrunk  down  to  the  lowest  notch.  He  slunk  off  to 
his  den  and  remained  there  all  the  day  in  woeful  meditation, — ^trying  to  recon- 
cile his  saddened  soul  to  the  astonishing  discovery  that  the  world  contained 
something  mightier  than  himself.  At  the  other  extreme  in  the  animal  king- 
dom were  the  fleas  which  infested  Curl  and  made  him  grateful  towards  any  one 
who  would  scratch  his  back  along  the  central  ridge  where  his  own  teeth  could 
not  do  police  duty  efficiently.  I  know  not  whether  there  really  exist  two  dis- 
tinct varieties  of  this  particular  species  of  vermin ;  but  I  mentioa  it  as  a  fact 
that,  while  I  am  very  susceptible  to  the  bite  of  the  flea,  and  of  every  other 
poisonous  insect,  I  never  received  any  such  bites  as  a  result  of  my  intimate  as- 
sociation with  Curl,  though  fleas  could  always  be  found  skipping  about  in  his  fine 
white  hair.  His  demonstration  of  pleasure  at  being  scrs^tched  consisted  in  hold- 
ing his  head  and  ears  well  back  and  rapidly  protruding  his  tongue  above  his  up- 
per lip.  The  most  comic  exhibition  which  Curl  ever  gave,  however,  of  the 
essential  blitheness  andgayety  of  his  nature,  was  the  diversion  which  we  called 
•*  circling.**  There  was  no  such  word  as  "  cycler  "  known  in  those  days,  but, 
as  a  "  drcler,"  Curl  surely  surpassed  all  the  dogs  of  history.  Whenever  the 
sense  of  merriment  took  full  control  of  him, — whenever  a  supreme  conscious- 
ness of  "the  joy  and  pride  of  life"  prompted  him  to  work  o£E  his  supera- 
bundance of  animal  spirits, — Curl  would  suddenly  adopt  a  curious  conven- 
tional attitude  (arching  his  back,  flattening  his  ears  and  giving  a  peculiar 
twist  to  his  tail)  and  would  dart  off  with  unprecedented  velocity, — scampering 
into  the  garden  by  one  gate  and  out  by  the  other, — making  a  special  circuit  of 
the  hot-bed  frames  while  there, — and  fins^Uy  bringing  his  performance  to  a 
close  by  a  most  sprightly  and  mirth-provoking  specimen  of  "  circling  "  upon 
the  lawn.  Then  he  would  resume  his  customary  dignity  with  a  sly  wink  of 
innocence,  as  if  to  say :    "  Lord,  what  fools  we  mortals  be  1 " 

It  was  the  deep  religious  element  in  Curl's  nature,  however,-^the  abiding 
faith  which  he  had  in  the  supernatural, — which  chiefly  distinguishes  him  in  my 
mind  from  among  all  the  dogs  I  have  ever  known  or  read  about.  Curl  wor- 
shiped an  idol ;  and  his  unswerving  belief  in  it  cheered,  comforted  and  strength- 
ened him  in  the  most  trying  periods.  His  idol  was  a  wooden  saw-horse.  Its  ap- 
pearance may  be  described  as  resembling  two  parallel  specimens  of  the  letter 
X,  about  twenty  inches  high,  joined  at  their  centers  by  a  cross-piece  a  foot 
long,  and  at  the  ends  of  their  legs  by  similar  braces.  The  amount  of  space 
included  between  the  two  crossed  uprights,  the  central  cross-piece  and  the 
lower  braces  was  so  small  that  no  dog  of  Curl's  size  could  have  been  dragged 
through  it  against  his  wishes.  Only  on  specially  important  occasions,  indeed, 
did  Curl  really  insist  upon  pushing  himself  through  it,  for  the  process  was 
definitely  a  painful  one.  Ordinarily,  he  was  satisfied  to  rub  up  against  the  side 
of  the  saw-horse,  or  even  to  lie  down  in  front  of  it.  Its  simple  presence 
soothed  him  with  a  sense  of  benign  protection  and  tranquillity.  Its  mute  and 
wooden  sympathy  was  grateful  to  him  in  every  time  of  trouble.    If  Curl  was 


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  \he  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  caooon 
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  door  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  rufBed. 

Whenever  Curl  left  the  presence  of  anyone,  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  be 
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  hiferred, 
Curl  was  never  absent  from  the  saw-horse  for  a  moment,  except  when  actively 
engaged  in  the  attempt  to  suppress  the  explosion  of  gun])owder ;  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  Romas 
candle  or  pin-wheel  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  of  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  battle-cry  seemed  to  be : 

"  While  stands  the  sturdy  Saw-horse,  Curl  shall  stand ; 
When  falls  the  fated  Saw-horse,  Curl  shall  fall ; 
And  when  Curl  faUs,  the  worid !  '* 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS.  421 

I  never  had  the  heart  to  deprive  the  dog  of  this  priceless  treasure,  for  any 
great  length  of  time,  and  I  usually  took  pains  to  let  it  stand  in  some  easily 
accessible  spot,  shady  in  summer  and  sunny  in  winter.  But  whenever  I  did 
indulge  in  the  per.verse  pleasure  of  exasperating  Curl  to  the  heart-breaking 
point,  and  witnessing  his  dismay  when,  having  hurried  off  to  seek  the  solace 
which  a  saw-horse  grants,  he  found  his  idol  had  been  removed  from  its 
wonted  shrine, — ^in  fact,  whenever,  for  any  reason,  this  idol  was  not  accessible 
to  him, — Curl  adopted  another  device  for  doing  penance  which  was  almost  as 
corious  as  his  original  infatuation.  There  stood  behind  the  high  fence  of  the 
barn-yard  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  fire-place.  Thrown 
roughly  together,  they  made  an  insecure  sort  of  a  pyramid,  whose  apex, 
tottering  just  beneath  the  roof,  was  a  favorite  place  for  the  baiting  of  Curl 
with  meat.  In  his  endeavors  to  reach  the  bait,  the  dog  would  usually  pull 
down  several  logs  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  pouring  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  puU  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,  to  bump  his  head  against  the  roof,  each  time  that  he 
uttered  a  wrathful  bark,  seemed  specially  gratifying  to  him. 

Curl  was  born  in  the  summer  of  1856 ;  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-bom  party  nominated  its  first  Presidential  candidate.  Colonel  John  C. 
Fremont.  Party  spirit  even  went  so  far  as  to  decree  that  the  new  dog — ^just 
rescued  from  the  actual  groggery  and  the  prospective  fighting-pit — should  be 
fofm2Uly  named  "Colonel  Fremont.**  But  my  own  ten-year-old  foot  was 
planted  in  flat  opposition.  I  declared  that  the  new  dog  should  not  thus  be 
dr^igged  into  politics ;  and  I  defied  the  ability  of  the  proposer  to  foist  such  an 
awkward  name  upon  the  acceptance  of  the  household.  Knowing  that  I  was 
powerless,  in  the  face  of  hostile  authority,  to  secure  the  adoption  of  the  quite- 
contrasted  name  which  was  my  real  preference,  I  hit  upon  "  Curl,"  as  hav- 
ing a  somewhat  similar  sound  and  being  more  smoothly-spoken.  By  cease- 
lessly proclaiming  this  as  the  dog*s  real  title,  I  soon  forced  it  into  general 
recognition ;  so  that,  within  a  year,  even  the  most  persistent  supporter  of  the 


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  Linkim, 
Ginral  Scott,  Ginral  Micklenan,  and  all  the  fine  ginrals  and  sojers  uv  the 
Union  army,— pretickerlerly  T.  F.  Mahher,  and  the  gallant  Crunnel  Crorcio- 
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  dt 
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  eiren  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  Cu^l  had  any  individual  name. 
I  always  designated  him  simply  as  "  the  Dog," — by  eminence  and  superiority 
tfie  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 
Curl's  hind-quarters — ^as  a  result  of  poison,  left  within  his  reach  by  some 
malicious  or  careless  p>erson — ^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  longbr  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  tnuts  and  characteristics, 
however,  remained  unchanged  until  the  last. 

He  never  could  be  made  to  really  look  upon  his  own  reflection  in  the 
mirTor,  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.     lie  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  almost  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  remember  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  nluffled  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- 
ings  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 
faunily  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  exit.  The  instant  that  the  door  closed 
upon  him,  however,  he  would  rush  with  great  speed  down  the  brick  walk, 
barking  briskly ;  and  having  thus  proclaimed  at  the  outer  gate  his  continued 
defiance  of  Jack  and  all  other  enemies,  he  would  withdraw  to  his  den  for  the 
night.    In  case  the  mistress  attempted  to  accelerate  Curl's  progress  towards 


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  hioL  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  was 
the  most  hypocritically  '*  umble  "  and  meanest-spirited  dog  in  the  entire  circle 
of  my  acquaintance.  Curl  never  so  much  as  admitted  that  he  was  a  dog  at 
all  (for  it  would  have  broken  his  heart  to  recognize  the  presence  on  the  place 
of  any  real  canine  rival,  or  to  abate  a  jot  of  the  pretense — stiffly  maintained 
by  him  to  the  last — that  he  was  the  supreme  commander,  fully  competent  to 


THE  BEST  OF  BULL-DOGS, 


425 


protect  all  the  interests  of  the  farm),  but  he  gave  Uriah  a  sort  of  con- 
temptuous toleration,  as  if  he  ranked  him  in  the  same  class  with  the  cats. 
Though  Curl  would  quickly  resent  any  kind  attentions  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 
strokings  bestowed  upon  the  sleek  head  of  that  despicable  character  could 
arouse  Curl's  jealousy,  or  even  rufHe  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  voi^e.  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  Curfs  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  desperate  disturbance,  at  intervals  between  midnight  and 
morning,  on  that  mournful  occasion ;  but  his  barkings  and  scratchings  at  the 
outer  door  were  all  in  vain.  Those  who  heard  them  did  not  believe  that  the 
trouble  was  serious  enough  to  deserve  inquiring  into  until  morning ;  and  so 
they  resumed  their  slumbers.  "When  morning  came.  Buff  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 
back-and-forth  many  times  during  the  night,  in  the  endeavor  to  summon  help 
for  the  fallen  hero,  and  he  had  as  evidently  kept  guard  till  daylight  beside 
that  prostrate  form.  For  there,  at  the  end  of  the  path,  lay  Curl ;  and  there, 
just  beyond  him,  stood  the  snow-embedded  saw-horse,  upon  whose  idolized 
outlines  the  dead  face  of  the  dear  old  dog  seemed  still  to  be  fixed  in  fondness. 

"  Weave  a  circle  round  him  thrice, 
And  doBe  your  eyes  in  holy  dread, 
He  DOW  on  honeydew  is  fed. 
And  drinks  the  milk  of  Paradise.*' 


XXIX. 

CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.* 

That  subtle  essence  which,  in  lack  of  a  more  graphic  term,  we  call 
**  character/'  though  it  is  sufficiently  rare  among  men,  and  rarer  yet  among 
women,  is  rarest  of  all  among  the  buildings  which  the  human  race  erect  for 
their  habitations.  However  greatly  the  houses  of  men  may  differ  in  size  or 
architecture, — in  outward  appearance  or  inner  arrangement,— one  house  is 
apt  to  be  very  much  like  another  in  its  lack  of  inherent  distinctiveness. 
The  reader  must  be  a  very  exceptional  and  widely-traveled  person  if  he  can 
recall  as  many  as  a  dozen  abodes  which  have  impressed  him  as  endowed 
with  a  genuine  individuality, — as  having  a  nature  essentially  different  from 
that  of  every  other  house  in  the  world.  It  is  within  the  experience  of  al- 
most every  one  to  occasionally  meet  with  a  man  whose  peculiar  traits  and 
endowments  create  this  impression,  that  he  is  the  only  one  of  his  kind  that 
ever  existed  or  ever  could  exist;  but  an  inanimate  building  possessed  of 
this  indescribable  attribute  of  "  character  "  is  so  rare  an  object — especially 
in  a  new  country  like  America — that  I  presume  a  great  majority  of  the 
people  whose  lives  have  been  spent  here  have  never  formed  the  acquaint- 
ance of  even  one  such  specimen.  Grotesque  and  singular  mansions,  whose 
exact  types  of  grandeur  or  ugliness  or  absurdity  are  known  to  be  unique, 
may  be  found  on  both  slopes  of  the  continent ;  but  they  all  afflict  the  nos- 
trils with  so  strong  an  odor  of  fresh  paint  and  varnish  as  to  render  them 
in  a  moral  sense  quite  colorless.  "  Character  "  is  a  product  of  age  and  ex- 
perience, and  it  can  no  more  be  attached  to  a  house  by  artificial  process 
than  a  "  moss-grown,  historic  ruin  **  can  be  incorporated  into  a  landscape 
by  contract  with  the  nearest  stone-cutter. 

London  is  to  me  the  most  interesting  city  in  the  world,  because  of  the 
amount  of  "  character  "  which  seems  to  have  accumulated  there  as  a  gift  of 
all  the  ages.  It  is  this,  I  take  it,  which  gives  the  touch  of  truth  to  Dr. 
Johnson's  oft-quoted  remark  to  the  effect  that  it  is  all  things  to  all  men; 
that  each  individual's  conception  of  it  reflects  his  own  nature ;  that  it  is  a 
city  of  banks,  or  a  city  of  book-shops,  or  a  city  of  taverns,  or  a  city  of  hors^ 
markets,  or  a  city  of  theaters,  or  a  city  of  a  hundred  other  things,  according 
to  one's  personal  point-of-view.  The  Modem  Babylon  is  certainly  the  only 
inhabited  spot  in  Europe  where  a  man  may  mind  his  own  business,  and  iso- 
late himself  almost  as  completely  from  observation  as  if  in  a  desert  solitude. 
The  fact  that  it  contains  more  people  than  the  cities  of  Paris,  Berlin,  Viemia, 

^Copies  of  this  duipter,  on  heavier  paper,  will  be  mailed  by  the  publisher  for  35  c  tath. 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        427 

Rome,  Dresden  and  Turin  combined,  suggests  "  the  boundless  contiguity  of 
sha.de  "  that  renders  possible  a  degree  of  seclusion  which  is  quite  unat- 
tainable in  those  lesser  cities.  The  immensity  of  London  was  the  charac- 
teristic of  it  which  never  left  my  consciousness  during  the  half-year  that  it 
was  my  good-fortune  to  be  hidden  there, — without  once  setting  eyes  upon  a 
single  personal  acquaintance ;  and  I  do  not  pretend  that  my  persistent  ex- 
plorations of  its  mysteries  revealed  to  me  a  one-hundredth  part  of  them.  I 
know  that  there  are  secret  chambers,  in  the  *•  inns-of-court "  and  other  se- 
cluded buildings,  where  men  may  live  peacefully  for  years  without  having. 
iheir  existence  or  their  daily  movements  known  to  more  than  a  very  few 
people.  But  I  am  confident  that  there  is  no  place  in  London  where  the  habit 
of  bodily  self-suppression  can  be  maintained  with  such  a  degree  of  complete- 
ness as  is  possible  to  tenants  of  a  certain  Building  in  America  whose  phe- 
nomenal queerness  it  is  my  present  object  to  exhibit  and  explain. 

The  two  millions  of  people  who  dwell  upon  Manhattan  Island  and  the 
opposite  shores — though  equal  in  number  to  the  combined  inhabitants  of 
Philadelphia,  Chicago,  Boston  and  Baltimore — ^form  but  a  twenty-fifth  part 
of  the  nation's  population,  whereas  a  fifth  of  all  the  people  of  England  arc 
concentrated  at  London.  Nevertheless,  New  York  is  the  exact  counterpart 
of  the  latter  city  in  respect  to  the  obliteration  of  the  sense  of  locality.  It  is 
certainly  the  only  inhabited  spot  in  the  western  hemisphere  where  a  man  is 
allowed  to  live  as  he  likes,  without  question,  or  criticism  or  notice  from  his 
next-door  neighbor.  I  have  visited  all  but  two  of  the  other  twenty  cities 
here  which  have  a  population  in  excess  of  a  hundred  thousand ;  and  I  know^ 
it  is  not  possible  for  even  the  obscurest  person  to  live  as  much  as  a  week  in 
any  one  of  them  without  attracting  remark  or  recognition.  No  visitor  who 
walks  along  Broadway,  or  any  other  great  thoroughfare  of  the  metropolis, 
can  fail  to  feel  impressed,  if  not  oppressed,  by  his  own  relative  insignificance 
to  the  mass,  in  a  far  more  intense  degree  than  he  is  ever  conscious  of  when 
elsewhere.  An  entire  change  in  the  moral  atmosphere, — ^a  subtle  sense  of 
greater  strangeness,  and  remoteness,  and  "  unhumanity "  in  the  active  life 
around  him, — ^must  be  perceptible  to  any  one  who  comes  here  after  visiting  a 
smaller  city.  This  metropolitan  characteristic  of  indifference  and  imperson- 
ality is  appreciatively  shown  by  a  certain  accomplished  Bostonian,  when  he 
describes,  as  a  part  of  his  **  midsummer  day's  dream  of  97°  in  the  shade," 
the  businesslike  and  effective,  but  entirely  unsympathetic,  way  in  which  the 
wants  of  a  victim  of  sun-stroke  were  attended  to  in  a  Broadway  drug-store  : 

"  Did  70a  see  how  the  people  looked,  one  after  another,  so  indifferently  at  that  (^>aple»  and 
eridently  foigot  them  the  next  instant  ?  It  was  dreadful.  I  should  n't  like  to  have  you  sun* 
struck  in  New  York."  "  That 's  very  considerate  of  you  ;  but,  place  for  place,  if  any  accident 
must  happen  to  me  among  strangers,  I  think  I  should  prefer  to  have  it  in  New  York.  The 
biggest  place  is  always  the  kindest  as  well  as  the  cruelest  place.  Amongst  the  thousands  of 
spectators  the  Good  Samaritan  as  well  as  the  Levite  would  be  sure  to  be.  As  for  a  sun-stroke, 
it  vequtres  peculiar  gifts.  But  if  you  compel  me  to  a  choice  in  the  matter,  then  I  say,  give  me 
the  busiest  part  of  Broadway  for  a  poD-etfoke.    There  is  such  e^wrience  of  calamity  there  that 


428  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

you  ooold  hardly  fall  the  first  victiin  of  any  misfortune.  Probably  the  gentleman  at  the  apoUw 
Gary's  was  merely  exhausted  by  the  beat,  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  ennuyA  of  sun-strokes,  and  to  that  degree  indifferent,  but  they  most  likely  know 
that  they  can  only  do  harm  by  an  expression  of  sympathy,  and  so  they  delegate  their  pity  asdwy 
have  delegated  their  helpfulness  to  the  proper  auth<»ity,  and  go  about  their  business.  If  a  maa 
was  overcome  in  the  middle  of  a  village  street,  the  blundering  country  dn^gist  woukl  n't  know 
what  to  do,  and  the  tender-hearted  people  would  crowd  about  so  that  no  breath  of  air  otnM 
reach  the  victim."—"  Their  Wedding  Journey,"  by  W.  D.  Howells,  1871,  pp.  53,  54. 

Now,  in  just  the  saime  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  approximatioD  to 
a  home  of  perfect  individual  liberty  that  has  ever  been  heard  of  outside  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  in  America,"  said  he,  as  we  left  the  Chsnle^ 
«nt  [New  York  Hotel]  by  the  side  door  on  Mannering  [Waverley]  Place  and  deacended  fran 
Broadway  as  far  as  Ailanthus  Square.  On  the  comer,  fronting  that  mean,  shabby  endosnre, 
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  grnmnidi  aspect 
Not  an  Asylum.  Not  a  Retreat.  No  lunatics,  that  I  know  of,  kept  there,  nor  anything  mytts* 
rious,  guilty,  or  out  of  the  way." 

"  Chrysalis  College,  is  it  not?  " 

**  You  have  not  forgotten  its  monastic  phiz  ?" 

"  No ;  I  remember  the  sham  convent,  sham  casde,  modem-antiqne  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,  ihdr 
college  would  be  populous ;  if  they  built  marble,  it  would  be  permanent ;  if  they  built  Gocfaic, 
it  would  be  scholastic  and  mediaeval  in  its  mfluenoes;  ii  they  had  narrow,  mullianed  windcms, 
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  windom 
like  crenelles ;  and  inside  they  keep  up  the  traditional  methods  of  educadon." 

"  But  pupils  don't  belaguer  it  ?  " 

*'  That  is  the  blunt  fact.  It  suys  an  ineffectual  high-low  school.  The  halls  and  lecMn- 
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  .beudes  you  ?  " 

"  Several  artists,  a  brace  of  young  doctors,  one  or  two  quiet  men-about4oiwik,  Charm,  »d 
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  iaaponng,  magnifique,  m  short,  pretty  gooi 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS. 


429 


Up  soes  your  nose !    Yoa  have  lived  too  long  in  Florence.    Bronelleechi  and  Giotto  have  spoilt 
jou.     Welly  I  will  show  you  something  better  inside.     Follow  me  I  " 

We  entered  the  edifice,  half  college,  half  lodging-house,  through  a  large  doorway,  under  a 
pointed  arch.  The  interior  was  singularly  ill-contrived.  A  lobby  opened  at  the  door,  communi- 
catxng  with  a  dun  corridor  running  through  the  middle  of  the  building,  parallel  to  the  front.  A 
fan-tracery  vaulting  of  plaster,  peeled  and  crumbling,  ceiled  the  lobby.  A  marble  stairway,  with 
iron  hand-rails,  went  squarely  and  clumsily  up  from  the  door,  nearly  filling  the  lobby.  Stillfleet 
led  the  way  upstairs.  He  pointed  to  the  fan-tracery.  *'  This  of  course  reminds  you  of  King's 
College  Chapel,"  said  he. 

"  Entirely,*  replied  I.  "  Pity  it  is  deciduous !  "  and  I  brushed  off  from  my  coat  several 
fiakes  of  its  whitewash. 

The  stairs  landed  us  on  the  main  floor  of  the  building.  Another  dimly  lighted  corridor, 
ans^renng  to  the  one  below,  but  loftier,  ran  from  end  to  end  of  the  building.  This  also  was 
paved  with  marble  tiles.  Large  Gothicish  doors  opened  along  on  either  side.  The  middle  room 
on  the  rear  of  the  corridor  was  two  stories  high,  and  served  as  chapel  and  lecture-room.  On 
either  side  of  this  a  narrow  staircase  climbed  to  the  upper  floors. 

By  the  half-light  from  the  great  window  over  the  doorway  where  we  had  entered,  and  from  a 
sin^e  mullioned  window  at  the  northern  end  of  the  corridor,  there  was  a  bastard  mediaevalism  of 
effect  in  Chrysalis,  rather  welcome  after  the  bald  red-brick  houses  without. 

"  How  do  you  like  it  ?  "  asked  Stillfleet.  "  It's  not  old  enough  to  be  romantic  But  then 
it  does  not  smell  of  new  point,  as  the  rest  of  America  does." 

We  turned  op  the  edioing  corridor  toward  the  north  window.  We  passed  a  side  staircase 
and  a  heavily  padlocked  door  on  the  ri|^t.  On  the  left  was  a  class-room.  The  door  was  open. 
We  could  see  a  swarm  of  collegians  buzzing  for  such  drops  of  the  honey  of  learning  as  they  could 
get  from  a  lank  plant  of  a  professor.  We  stopped  at  the  farther  door  on  the  right,  adjoining 
the  one  so  carefidly  padlocked.  It  bore  my  friend's  plate.  Stillfleet  drew  a  great  key,  aimed  at 
the  keyhole  and  snapped  the  bolt,  all  with  a  mysterious  and  theatrical  air. 

"Shut  your  eyes  now,  and  enter  into  Rubbish  Palace  I  "  exclaimed  he,  leading  me  several 
steps  forward  fief  ore  he  commanded  "  Open  sesame  I  '* 

*'  Where  am  I  ?  "  I  cried,  staring  about  in  surprise.  "  This  is  magic,  phantasmagoria, 
Harry.  Outside  was  the  nineteeolh  century ;  here  is  the  fifteenth.  When  I  shut  my  eyes,  I 
was  in  a  seedy  building  in  a  busy  modem  town.  I  open  them,  and  here  I  am  in  the  Palazzo 
Sfona  of  an  old  Italian  city,  in  the  great  chamber  where  there  was  love  and  hate',  passion  and 
despair,  revelry  and  pobon,  long  before  Columbus  cracked  the  egg." 

"  It  is  a  rather  rum  old  place,"  said  Stillfleet,  twisting  his  third  mustache,  and  enjoying 


'  You  call  it  thirty  feet  square  and  seventeen  high?  Built  for  some  grand  college  purpose, 
I  suppose?" 

"Asa  hall,  I  believe,  for  the  dons  to  receive  lions  in  on  great  occasions.  But  lions  and  great 
occasions  never  came.  So  I  have  inherited.  It  is  the  old  stOTy.  Sk  vo*  non  wtbis  mdiJicatU 
tede*.  How  do  you  like  it  ?  Not  too  somber,  eh  ?  with  only  those  two  narrow  windows  open- 
ing north  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not  too  somber.  I  don't  want  the  remorseless  day  staring  in  upon  my  studies. 
How  do  I  like  it?  Enormously.  The  place  is  a  romance.  It  is  Dantesque,  Byronic,  Victor 
Hi^oish.  I  shall  be  sure  of  rich  old  morbid  fancies  under  this  ceiling,  with  its  frescoed 
arabesques,  faded  and  crumbling.  But  what  use  has  Densdeth  for  the  dark  room  with  the 
padlodced  door,  next  to  yours?— here,  too,  in  this  public  privacy  of  Chrysalis ? " 

' '  The  publicity  makes  privacy.    Densdeth  says  it  is  his  store-room  for  books  and  furniture.  ' 

"  Well,  why  not  ?    Yoa  speak  inaeduknialy. " 

"  Becatise  there's  a  fcunt  suspicion  that  he  lies.  The  last  janitor,  an  ex.«ervant  of 
Densdeth's,  b  dead.  None  now  is  allowed  to  enter  there  except  the  owner's  own  man,  a 
Xorrid  black  creature.  He  opens  the  door  cautiously,  and  a  curtain  appears.  He  closes  the 
door  before  he  lifts  it.  Densdeth  may  pestle  poisons,  grind  stillettos,  sweat  eagles,  revel  by 
gas-light  there.    What  do  I  know  ? " 

"  You  are  not  inquisitive,  then,  in  Chrysalis?  " 

"  No.  We  have  no  eonciergie  by  the  street-door  to  spy  ouraelves  or  our  visitors.  We  can 
five  here  in  completer  privacy  than  anywhere  in  Christendom.  Daggeroni,  De  Bogus,  or 
Mademoiselle  des  Mollets  might  rendezvous  with  my  neighbor,  and  I  never  be  the  wiser."— 
"Cedl  Dreeme,"  by  Theodora  Wmthrop,  1861,  pp.  32-43  (N.  Y.:  H.  Holt,  1876,  pp.  360}. 


430         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

That  final  paragraph  is  the  most  significant  one  of  the  entire  quoted  de- 
scription, for  it  can  be  applied  with  similar  truthfulness  to  no  other  habita- 
tion on  the  planet ;  but,  before  attempting  any  commentary  on  the  words  of 
the  novelist,  I  wish  to  compare  with  them  the  words  which  other  well-in- 
formed writers  have  printed,  beginning  with  those  of  the  present  editor  ol 
the  Atlantic  Monthly,  They  appeared  a  half-decade  later  than  the  novel,  in  a 
series  of  sketches  which  he  prepared  concerning  the  young  artists  of  Nev 
York  for  a  youths'  magazine.  He  was  then  not  quite  thirty  years  old.  An 
ill-drawn  northwest  view  of  the  University  accompanied  one  of  his  articles, 
and  a  well-drawn  picture  of  an  artist's  chamber  therein  embellished  the  other: 

Trades  of  a  feather,  like  the  birds,  are  fond  of  flocking  together,  and  have  a  habit  ol  l^g^- 
tng  on  particular  spots  without  any  particular  reason  for  so  doing.  Our  friends,  the  aztisiB, 
possess  the  same  social  tendencies,  and,  in  the  selection  of  their  studios,  often  display  the  same 
eccentricity.  We  shall  never  be  able  to  understand  why  eight  or  ten  of  these  pleasant  fdkym 
have  located  themselves  in  the  New  York  University.  There  isn't  a  more  gloomy  struaoie 
outside  of  one  of  Mrs.  RadclifEe's  romances ;  and  we  hold  that  few  men  could  pass  a  week  m 
those  lugubrious  chambers  without  adding  a  morbid  streak  to  their  natures, — the  present  gesal 
inmates  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.  There  is  something  human  in  the  changes  which  cone 
over  houses.  Many  of  them  keep  up  their  respectability  for  a  long  period,  and  ripen  gradoaDy 
into  a  cheery,  dignified  old-age ;  even  if  they  become  dilapidated  and  threadbare,  yoa  see  at 
once  that  they  are  gentlemen,  in  spite  of  their  shabby  coats.  Other  buildings  appear  to  sofier 
disappointments  in  life,  and  grow  saturnine,  and,  if  they  happen  to  be  the  scene  of  some  tragedy, 
they  seem  never  to  forget  it.    Something  about  them  tells  you, 

"  As  plain  as  whisper  in  the  ear,  the  place  is  haunted." 

The  University  is  one  of  those  buildings  that  have  lost  their  enthusiasm.  It  is  diqgy  aad 
despondent,  and  does  n*t  care.  It  lifts  its  machicolated  turrets  above  the  tree  tops  of  Washing-  . 
ton  Square  with  an  air  of  forlorn  indifference.  Summer  or  winter,  fog,  snow,  or  sunshine, — they 
are  all  one  to  this  dreary  old  pile.  It  omghi  to  be  a  cheerful  plac«,  just  as  some  morose  people 
ought  to  be  light-hearted,  having  everything  to  render  them  so.  The  edifice  faces  a  beaotifal 
park,  full  of  fine  old  trees,  and  enlivened  by  one  coffee<olored  squirrel,  who  generously  makes 
himself  visible  for  nearly  half  an  hotu*  once  every  summer.  As  we  write,  his  advent  is  amdoody 
expected,  the  fountain  is  singing  a  silvery  prelude,  and  the  blossoms  are  flaunting  themsdves 
under  the  very  nose,  if  we  may  say  it,  of  the  University.  But  it  refuses  to  be  merry,  looming  vp 
there  stifE  and  repellant,  with  the  soft  spring  gales  fanning  its  weather-beaten  turrets, — an  arcfa»- 
tectural  example  of  ingratitude.    Mr.  Longfellow  says  that 

"  All  houses  wherein  men  have  lived  and  died  are  haunted  houses.** 

In  one  of  those  same  turrets,  many  years  ago,  a  young  artist  grew  very  weary  of  this  life.  Vrr- 
haps  his  melancholy  spirit  still  pervades  the  dusty  chambers,  goes  wearily  up  and  down  the 
badly-lighted  staircases,  as  he  used  to  do  in  the  flesh.  If  so,  that  is  what  chills  us,  as  we  pa* 
through  the  long  uncarpeted  halls,  leading  to  the  little  nookery  tenanted  by  Mr.  Winsfew  Hcner. 
The  University  is  not  monopolized  by  artists,  however.  The  ground  floor  is  used  for  a  variety 
of  purposes.  We  have  an  ill-defined  idea  that  there  is  a  classical  school  located  somewhere  ob 
the  premises,  for  we  have  now  and  then  met  files  of  spectral  little  boys,  with  tattered  LJt» 
grammars  under  their  arms,  gliding  stealthily  out  of  the  somber  doorway,  and  disappearing  in  the 
sunshine.  Several  theological  and  scientific  societies  have  their  meetings  here,  and  a  litetarr 
club  sometimes  holds  forth  upstairs  in  a  spacious  lecture-room.  Excepting  the  studios  there  is 
little  to  interest  us,  unless  it  be  the  locked  apartment  in  whidi  a  whimsical  virtuou  has  stared  a 
great  quanthy  of  curiosities,  which  he  brought  from  Europe,  years  ago,  and  has  since  left  to  the 
mercy  of  the  raU  and  moths.    This  mysterious  room  Is  timed  to  vefy  good  dramatic  aooouot  by 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS, 


43* 


the  late  Theodore  Winthropi  in  his  romance  of  "  Cecil  Dreeme.*'  (A  friend  informs  us  that 
this  "  antiquary's  cdlection  "  has  been  removed  within  a  year  or  two.)—"  Among  the  Studios," 
by  T.  a.  Aldricb  (Omt  Young  Fotht^  Boston,  July,  1866,  pp.  394-395)- 

In  the  September  issue  of  the  magazine  (p.  573)  the  same  writer  added  :  "  A  little  boy — 
we  know  he  must  be  a  spectral  little  boy,  and  are  sure  he  has  a  tattered  Latin  grammar  under  his 
arm — has  written  us  a  dispiriting  missive,  in  which  he  finds  fault  with  us  because  we  called  the 
University  a  gloomy  buQding,  and  wondered  how  people  could  live  in  it  and  not  gi:x>w  mor- 
bid. Now  the  tone  of  our  linister  little  friend's  letter  is  an  evidence  of  the  deteriorating  efiBsct 
which  the  checriess  architecture  of  the  University  exercises  on  the  youthful  mind.  Figuratively 
speaking,  he  has  thrown  down  the  tattered  Latin  grammar,  taken  o£E  bis  little  jacket,  and  dared 
us  to  meet  him  in  mortal  combat  on  the  threshold  of  the  haunted  castle.  For  our  part,  we  shall 
avoid  that  spectral  little  boy."  Mr.  Aldrich  also  tells  a  story  (p.  397)  concerning  a  negro  boot- 
blade  called  Bones,  who,  after  having  been  persuaded  with  great  difficulty  to  enter  one  of  the 
studioBy  in  order  to  serve  as  a  model  ("  at  the  foot  of  each  sturway  he  evinced  a  desire  to  nm 
away  ")f  ^^3^  so  alarmed  when  the  artist  locked  the  door  upon  him  that  he  shrieked  aloud  and 
bounced  furiously  around  the  room  until  permitted  to  escape  :  "  'flie  cause  of  this  singular 
oonduct  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Bones  was  afterwards  accounted  for.  It  appears  the  simple  fellow 
had  somehow  conceived  the  idea  that  the  artist  was  '  a  medicine  man '  (1.  «.,  an  army  surgeon), 
and  that  he  had  lured  him,  Mr.  Bones,  into  his  den,  for  the  purpose  of  relieving  said  Mr.  Boaes 
of  a  limb  or  two,  by  way  of  practice.  This  is  one  solution  of  our  friend's  terror.  My  own  im- 
preasion  is,  however,  that  the  profound  gloom  of  the  University  turned  his  brain." 

A  much  more  recent  article  concerning  "  The  Young  Artists  of  New  York  "  (By  W.  H. 
Bishop,  in  Scribnet^s  Mantkly^  January,  1880,  p.  363),  accompanied  by  a  good  wood-cut  of  one 
ol  the  chambers  alhkled  to,  said:  "  If  something  odd  in  the  way  of  a  studio  be  demanded,  it 
may  be  found  in  the  okl-fashioaed  Tudor  pile  known  as  the  University  building,  more  aingular 
now  than  when  Wnithrop  found  it  an  appropriate  place  for  the  location  of  bis  romance  of 
'  Cecil  Dreeme.'  The  chapel  has  been  divided  by  a  floor  at  half  its  height,  and  this  again  by  a 
few  partitions.  In  the  ^»cious  upper  chambers  thus  formed,  which  command  picturesque  views 
of  Washington  Square,  the  Hudson  River  and  the  New  Jersey  hills  beyond,  the  ribs  and 
pendentives  of  the  vanhed  roof  still  show,  with  a  most  ancient  and  baronial  effect."  With  this 
may  be  compared  the  remarks,  of  the  same  date,  in  "  Appletons'  Dictionary  of  New  York  " 
(p.  32 1):  "  The  University  building  was  formerly  a  ]dac«  in  which  the  best  known  members  of 
the  artistic  and  literary  worid  had  their  chambers,  which  were  used  both  as  studios  and  lodgings. 
Some  of  them  still  remain  as  tenants  of  their  4>ld  apartments,  but  the  prevalence  of  lodging  and 
apartment  houses  of  late  years  has  drawn  the  majority  of  them  away.  Theodore  Winthrop's 
dever  novel  of  '  Cecil  Dreeme '  gives  a  capital  idea  of  the  buildings  as  they  were  in  the  ante- 
war  period,  and  among  his  diaracters  will  be  recognised  a  well-Jcnown  lUtiruUur  and  editor, 
who  is  still  a  tenant  of  the  University,  and  whose  elegantly  decorated  apartments  and  fine  coUeo^ 
tion  of  bric-a-brac  form  one  of  the  attractions  there." 

A  metropolitan  correspondent  of  the  San  Francisco  ChronieU^  who  said  he  himself  had 
once  occupied  the  historic  little  room,  in  the  southwest  turret  of  the  Building  ("historic" 
bccaase  there  Professors  Draper  and  Morse,  in  1839,  made  the  first  American  experiments  in 
pboCogiaphy,  simultaneously  with  Daguerre's  discovery  of  it  in  France),  offered  the  following 
festimony  in  that  paper  of  June  6,  1880 :  "  The  most  interesting  feature  of  this  locality  is  a 
ponderous  pile  at  the  eastera  end  of  the  Square,  built  of  gray  stone,  and  frowning,  like  a  gloomy 
andent  castle,  upon  the  trees  and  greensward  of  the  park.  There  is  no  building  in  the  dty  that 
nesembles  it  in  any  particular.  Its  architecture  is  of  a  Gothic  type,  its  vrindows,  walls,  massive 
dooffs  and  all,  bdng  in  keeping.  Along  the  edge  of  its  roof  are  heavy  battlements,  and  battle- 
mented  turrets  riae  at  the  four  comere.  A  venerable  air  of  age  hai^  over  it.  It  is  one  of  the 
few  buildings  in  the  metropolis  that  awaken  curiosity  in  a  strainer,  and  give  his  fancy  an 
opportunity  to  roam.  The  structure  has  an  evil  repute  with  the  servant-girls  of  the  neighbor> 
hood.  At  night  they  pass  it  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  and  they  whisper  about  it  with 
s^mt*A  eyes.    They  have  a  notion  that  deep  in  sub-cellars  lie  corpses,  skeletons  and  other  dread- 


4^  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

f ul  things  i  for  they  believe  that  among  the  maay  institutions  and  peraons  quartered  in  the 
building  is  a  medical  school,  frequented  by  a  huge  number  of  heartless  youx^  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  punJiased 
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  along  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  oat, 
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  brick  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  bokony 
before  the  drawing-rocHn  windows,  and  a  flight  xA  white-niaible  steps  ascending  to  a  portal  whicb 
was  also  faced  with  white  marble.  This  structure,  and  many  of  its  neighbors,  whidi  it  cxsdlr 
resembled,  were  supposed,  forty  years  ago,  to  embody  the  last  results  (rf  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,  endosed  by  a  wooden 
paling,  which  increased  its  rural  and  accessible  appearance ;  and  round  the  ooraer  was  the 
more  august  prednct  of  the  Fifth  Avenue,  taking  its  origin  at  this  poiat  with  a  sparioOT  aad 
confident  air  which  alreaidy  marked  it  for  high  destinies.  I  know  not  whether  it  is  owiqgto 
the  tenderness  of  early  associations,  but  this  portion  of  New  York  appears  to  niaay  peraons  the 
most  delectable.  It  has  a  kind  of  established  repose  which  is  not  of  frequent  oocaneace  in 
other  quarters  of  the  large,  shrill  dty;  it  has  a  riper,  richer,  more  homirable  look,  than  anycf 
the  «q>per  ramifications  of  the  great  longitudinal  thoroughfare— the  look  ci  having  had  aone- 
thing  of  a  social  history.  It  was  here,  as  you  might  have  been  informed  on  good  aatfaoiity, 
that  you  had  come  into  a  world  which  appeared  to  o£Fer  a  variety  of  sourees  of  interest ;  it  was 
here  that  your  grandmother  Kved,  in  venerable  solitude,  and  dispensed  a  ho^Mtality  winch  cob- 
mended  itself  alike  to  the  mfant  imagination  and  the  infant  palate ;  it  was  here  that  you  tmk 
your  first  walks  abroad,  following  the  nunery  maid  with  unequal  step,  and  sniffing  up  the  stxai^ 
odor  of  the  ailanthus  trees  which  at  that  time  formed  the  prhidpal  umbrage  of  the  Sqnsie,  sad 
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  otherwise  "  im- 
proved," more  than  a  decade  ago,  the  mistake  was  made  of  cutting  it  in  two 
by  a  roadway, — under  the  pretense  of  a  necessity  for  giving  a  direct  outlet  to 
the  traffic  of  Fifth  Avenue  into  the  two  streets  obliquely  opposite.  Since 
Chen,  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 
fiudson  River  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  park  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  prettiest  in  the  city.  With  the  picturesque  University 
bniMingw  on  the  east  side,  and  to  the  north  the  old-fashioned,  substantial  dweUing-hou8e»-4ot 
a  wooden  row  of  "  four-story,  high-stoop,  browo-stona  fronts,"  but  a  qutet  row  of  well-buih 
Kooses,  suggesting  a  life  within  of  a  different  sort  from  that  led  by  the  McGilUouddya  and  the 
Potiphars — removed  from  the  roar  and  bustle  of  Broadway,  it  seems,  what  in  fact  it  is,  a  quarter 
of  an  older  and  pleasanter  town  which  luckily  has  escaped  the  ravages  of  contractors  and  street- 
openers,  and  survives  to  remind  us  that  dty  life  is  not  necessarily  ugly  and  repulsive.  Wash- 
ington Square,  too,  is  one  of  the  few  public  parks  in  the  older  parts  of  the  city  in  which  rich  and 
poor  meet  on  common  ground.  The  south  side  of  the  square  and  the  streets  near  it  are  inhab- 
ited by  people  of  the  poorer  class  who  have  looked  upon  the  park  for  years  as  their  children's 
play  ground,  and  on  Sundays  and  public  holidays  in  the  spring  and  early  summer  it  is  pleasant 
to  notice  that  the  shade  of  the  fine  old  trees  and  the  cool  breezes  are  not  monopolized  by  the 
rich  at  the  exfwnse  of  the  jxwr,  nor  by  the  poor  to  the  exclusion  of  the  rich,  but  are  really  dem- 
ocraticaDy  shared  by  both  classes.  For  a  democratic  dty  it  is  singular  how  little  this  is  the  case 
in  most  of  the  old  parka.  They  generally  fall  prey  to  some  distinct  class,  as  with  Tompkins 
Square,  or  else  become  mere  thoroughfares,  like  Madison  and  Union  Squares.  But  Washing- 
ton Square  has  preserved  this  characteristic  of  a  bygone  time,  and  with  itt  fountain,  and  its 
broad  walks  and  shady  seats,  filled  with  merry  children,  nurses  with  their  white  caps,  and  here 
and  there  a  group  of  enterprising  householders  spending  the  morning  alfresco  with  their  neigh- 
bora,  it  suggests  faintly  the  pictures  of  life  in  New  York  handed  down  to  us  by  our  grandmothers, 
when  the  Bowling  Green  was  in  all  its  glory,  and  the  Von  Twillers  and  Stuyvesants  used  to  take 
\heir  afternoon  stroll  upon  the  Battery. — The  NaUon^  March  7,  1878,  p.  169. 

I  have  taken  pains  to  present  this  great  variety  of  citations,  as  a  pre- 
liminary to  my  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  the  institution  is  ^  The  University 
of  the  City  of  New  York."  Its  comer-stone  was  laid  in  July,  1833,  and  its 
rooms  were  first  occupied  for  purposes  of  instruction  in  1835.  Mean- 
time its  erection  had  been  the  cause  of  a  "  stone-cutters*  riot,"  arising  from 
the  fact  that  the  materiarused  to  form  its  walls  had  been  chiseled  and  worked 
by  convicts  of  the  State  at  Sing  Sing ;  and  one  of  its  walls  had  to  be  rebuilt, 
at  great  expense,  because,  as  originally  misplaced,  it  intruded  upon  ground 
belonging  to  the  city.  These  initial  mischances  seem  almost  like  portents  of 
the  executive  misfortunes  which  have  ever  since  connected  themselves  with 
the  problem  of  management.  The  great  and  irremediable  misfortune,  as  I 
understand  it,  was  the  business  panic  or  revulsion  of  1837,  which  financially 
crippled  the  men  of  wealth  upon  whose  generosity,  public-spirit  and  local- 


1 


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  sizigk 
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  the  brows 
sandstone  front  of  Nassau  Hall,  against  which  Washington  fired  his  cannoo, 
—and  which  was,  when  erected  in  1756,  "the  finest  bmilding  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- 

V  '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  '*  (X.  Y. ; 
Appletons,  187s),  accompanied  by  this  remark:  "  The  castellated-looking  building  on  its  easten 
border  is  the  University,  a  Gothic  pile  of  considerable  age  and  quaint  aspect,  suggestive  of  the 
mediaeval  structures  that  lie  scattered  through  the  European  countries."  The  sketch  |^ves  tW 
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  Cyclopedia  "  (iL,  733). 
The  picture  which  I  have  had  printed  on  the  fly-leaf  of  subscribers'  copies  of  this  book,  tboi^ 
equally  small,  is  fairly  satisfactory,  and  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  Yoik  " 
(ii.,  7x9),  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  octagooal  tar> 
rets  rising  at  each  of  the  four  comers.  It  was  a  fine  edifice,  180  feet  long  by  100  feet  wide,  on 
Washington  Square,  which  was  then  (the  comer  stone  was  laid  in  1833)  quite  a  hmg  ^t^»««>^ 
from  the  city,  whose  population  was  about  aoo,ooo.  It  was  opened  in  1835,  and  publicly  defr 
cated  May  20,  1837.  The  rooms  of  the  upper  story  adtacent  to  the  chapel  on  the  north  skk 
were  occupied  by  Professor  S.  F.  B.  Morse  and  his  pupils ;  and  in  the  foUowii^  September, 
having  completed  the  first  crade  telegraph  recording  apparatus,  he  exhibited  to  a  select  assembly 
at  the  University  the  operation  of  the  new  system,  showing  his  ability  to  commmuGale  Ixlwmi 
points  five  miles  apart  (p.  743).  In  the '  stone-cutters'  rebellion '  the  men  paraded  the  streets  ^mib 
incendiary  placards  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  attack  several  houses.  The  troops  were  caDed 
out  and,  after  dispersing  the  malcontents,  lay  under  arms  in  Washington  Square  four  days  and 
four  nights."  Biographical  details  concerning  the  professors  and  other  people  interested  in  tlie 
enterprise  cover  more  than  two  pages  in  "  Duyckinck's  Cydopsedia  of  American  Lherature  ** 
(1850),  already  alluded  to,  but  the  only  remarics  that  seem  worth  my  quoting  are  these :  "Tbe 
erection  of  the  building,  and  the  period  of  commercial  depresnon  vHiich  followed  its  oomroeaM»> 
ment,  weighed  heavily  on  tiie  fortunes  of  the  young  institution.  It  was  the  fint  intxvxiiactiaB, 
on  any  omsiderable  scale,  of  the  English  collegiate  style  of  architecture."  The  "  Supplemett 
of  x866  "  to  the  work  just  quoted  offered  this  additional  fact  about  the  University :  "  Its  ddn 
of  $70,350  vras  paid  June  14,  1854.  Immediately  afterwards  the  coundl  proceeded  to  carry  o«l 
the  great  aim  of  the  institution  by  measures  for  oiganlzing  the  School  of  Ait,  the  School  ol 
Ovil  Engineering,  and  the  School  of  Analytical  and  Pnct&cal  ChenistQr." 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        435 

strocters  in  mere '^  colleges "  Uke   Harrard  and  Yale,  as  this  pretentious 
academic  palace  of  the  metropolis  was  superior  to  the   mean  rectangular 
barracks  which  sheltered  their  students  in  the  little  provincial  cities  of  Cam- 
bridge and  New  Haven.    No  **  dormitory  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 
wbere  they  pleased,  throughout  the  city,  as  is  the  custom  of  university  life  in 
Germany.    The  Chancellor  and  the  Vice  Chancellor,  however  (so  common  a 
title  as  **  President "  naturally  seemed  inadequate  for  the  executive  chief  of 
so  grand  an  institution  t ),  were  to  occupy  the  two  houses  which^  are  attached 
to  the  flanks  of  the  main  edifice,  on  parallel  streets,  and  wl>ich  justify  the 
occasional  designation  of  it  in  the  plural.    The  second  part  of  the  founders' 
dream— or  perhaps  I  may  better  say  the  second  original  feature  in  their 
scheme— concerned  the  attraction  of  endowments  by  the  device  of  so  consti- 
tuting its  governing  board  as  to  "represent  no  single  religious  denomination," 
tliough  at  the  same  time  **  keeping  the  University  under  distinct  religious  and 
evangelical  inffaienoe.''    All  the  earlier  colleges  had  been  started  by  sectarians 
avowedly  as  feeders  for  some  particular  church  dcnominatioB ;  and  I  believe 
the  University  of  Virginia  (which  had  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  without  the  aid  and  control  of  the  clergy. 

The  theory,  therefore,  seemed  then  sufficiently  plausible,  that,  as  the  cler- 
ical infinence  of  a  single  religious  order  had  been  able  to  attract  enough  funds 
for  founding  and  endowing  many  a  fairly  prosperous  college,  such  influence  in 
several  powerful  denominations  combined  might  suffice  for  creating  and  main- 
taining a  colossal  university,  of  a  scope  and  dignity  commensurate  with  the 
weahh  and  splendor  of  the  metropolis.  The  practical  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
making  a  combination  of  that  sort  really  effective  to-day  are  generally  recog^ 
nizedaa  insuperable ;  and  I  am  probably  not  alone  in  believing  that  they  were 
insuperable  in  183a  I  do  not  think  that,  at  the  best,  the  trustees  could  have 
collected  money  enough  to  make  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  distinctive  merits  really 
attached  to  the  plans  of  its  organisers.  I  have  called  that  initial  misfortune 
an  irremediable  one,  because,  although  the  rich  men  of  America  often  give 
their  money  in  support  of  educational  enterprises  with  a  lavishness  that 
seems  incomprehensible  to  a  foreigner,  they  almost  always  prefer  to  act  as 
**  founders,"  even  when  they  do  not  insist  on  attaching  their  family  names  to 
their  gifts.    The   common  human  desire  to  create,  to  originate,  to  figure 


436         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

among  the  first,  controls  the  course  of  their  generosity.  The  argument  whidi 
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,  arc  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 
millL>ns  of  people  here  congregated,  the  name  "^Tew  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- 
ern 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  confused  with  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  i88x,  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  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS, 


437 


that  has  managed  in  some  way  to  outliye  its  infancy.  Almost  erery  alum- 
nus 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  large  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  nomims  umbra.  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 
smadler  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,^<hat  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  the 
ordinary  New  Yorker  as  about  Trinity  Church  or  the  Sailors*  Snug  Harbor.'' 
^Tfu  Nation^  July  7,  1881,  p.  2. 


438         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  believe  that  the  Mecflcal  School  of  the  University  has  always  been  con- 
ducted at  a  disunce  of  a  mile  or  more  from  the  Square ;  and  the  School  of 
Pharmacy  has  also»  in  recent  years^  been  removed  from  the  University  BuiUl- 
ing ;  but  the  Law  School  still  flourishes  there,  as  well  as  the  Department  of 
Science  and  Arts,  with  its  four  ondeigraduate  classes  of  Seniors,  Junicn, 
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  frequent  the  corridors  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  nsualhr 
rented  to  some  religious  organization  which  holds  service  in  it  on  Sundays, 
and  occasionally  on  the  evenings  of  other  days.  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  entnmoo 
of  the  Building ;  and  as  these  entrances  face  upon  three  different  streets,  and 
are  left  unlocked  from  daybreak  until  ten  o*dock  at  night,  whoever  pleaMs 
may  visit  the  Building  without  attracting  any  one's  observation,  either  ootskie 
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  rs^ping  on 
a  certain  secluded  window ;  but  that  worthy  is  freed  from  the  attacks  of  the 
general  public,  after  his  hour  of  locking-up,  for  no  bell-pull  or  other  devia 
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  combine  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  merged  in  the  mass  of 
two  hundred  or  more  who  daily  visit  there;  and  the  attempt  to  watch  the 
incomings  and  outgoings  of  any  particular  one  of  them  would  be  eztremelr 
difficult,  even  if  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  l^  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  '*  Cedl  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  im- 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        439 

fortunate  young  woman,  which  was  found  floating  in  theriver,  and  was  identi- 
fied as  his  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 
wrfaere  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  1 
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  Inte  here  in  completer  privacy  than  anywhere  in  Christendom. 
Daggeroniy  De  Bogus^  cr  Afadamoiseile  De  MoUets  might  rendezvous  with  my 
neighbor y  and  I  never  he  the  wiser ^'^ 


1  The  mmin  htddent  of  the  story  tarns  upon  the  disguise  of  a  woman  as  a  man,  and  we  are 
bound  to  say  that  we  rememher  no  instance  of  a  Kke  sttcoess,'— 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 
gainst  some  of  the  chsu^es  of  shabbiness,  decay  and  flimsiness  he  has  brought  against  an  edifice 
of  very  fair  ardiitectnral  pretensions.  The  marble  staircase  would  be  a  very  respecta)}le  flight  of 
■tepe  in  any  college  edifice  of  the  old  world,  and  you  can  ascend  without  any  fear  of  flakes  of 
wfaitewaah.  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  "  (z866 ;  p.  151). 

''The  Life  and  Poems  of  Theodore  Winthrop"  edited  by  his  sister,  with  portrait  (N*.  Y.  : 
H.  Holt  &  Ca,  1884,  pp.  313),  is  a  book  which  I  hoped  might  supply  much  quoUble  materia), 
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  z86o  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  lived  after  graduatbg  at  Yale.  If  not,  he  must  have  been  on  intimate  terms 
whh  some  of  the  residents,  and  made  frequent  visitations  at  their  chambers.  Winthrop  was 
bom  at  New  Haven,  September  aa,  zSaS,  and  was  killed  at  Great  Bethel,  Virginia,  June  ro, 
k86i,  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 
fortanate  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  young  men  of  that  day."  Even  the  youngest  of  us  gave  him 
reverent  recognition  as  the  typical  hero  of  a  troublous  time.  Thus,  the  books  which  appeared 
soon  after  his  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- 
vbion  whatever  is  maintained  ?  The  answer  to  the  latter  question  easily  is» 
that,  as  robbers  and  murderers  seek  those  places  which  are  most  promisii^ 
of  spoils,  they  avoid  the  University  because  of  a  belief  that  it  contains  nodi- 
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  synonymous  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  artist's  studio,  ilhistrates  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  dty  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  l)e  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 

(he  "  Uood  and  iron  **  behind  them.    We  felt  that  the  pen  whidi  traced  them  had  been  dipped 
in  gunpowder ;  that  the  pages  unelled  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  fall 
We  were  proud  to  read  an  author  of  whom  we  could  rightly  say,  in  sad  and  wrathful  defiance  : 
"  A  better  or  a  braver  man  never  rode  in  battle's  van." 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.       441 

pressare  q£  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 
f uU-Iength  "  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  lor  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  (tbough  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  un weal  thy  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  offer,  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  is  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  •*  immoralitj."  Sadi 
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  most 
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  sufficient  to  exclude  them  from  the  Unt> 
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- 
Virgiiiia  business,  wherein  he  himself  might  play  a  most  delighted  and  de- 
voted part, — "  the  world  forgetting,  by  the  world  iforgot."  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  hisvrife  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 ! 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.       443 

tbmt  vmdd  be  fine  I "  His  notion  waa  that  such  existence  might  oontinuoiisiy 
supply  the  same  sort  of  zest  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  neck  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 
no  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  sodar 
bility.  People  hasten  through  them  as  speedily  as  possible  and  disappear 
mto  their  several  chambers.  No  one  wastes  time  in  looking  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 
kb  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  i)ose  as  models.  A  charitable  society  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,  l^  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  established  here,  doubt- 
less has  its  due  proportion  of  feminine  patients.  The  storage  of  household 
effects  in  the  basement  is  sometimes  superintended  by  the  women  who  own 
them.  The  professors'  wives  and  daughters  presumably  make  the  University 
an  occasional  rendezvous.  Serious  argument  has  been  offered  in  favor  of 
opening  its  lecture  and  redtation-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  dandng.  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- 
•ooal  isolation  and  reserve ;  to  be  solitary,  exclusive,  unobservant  and  self- 
absorbed.  In  the  same  way  that,  as  Winthrop  ssdd,  "  its  publicity  makes 
privacy,"  so  does  its  unique  capadty  for  the  complete  concealment  of  a 
woman  keep  it  dngularly  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  oiique  est  tutissimum  rejugmm,  **  Every  man's 
house,"  as  Lord  Chatham  said,  'Ms  called  his  castle.  Why?  Because  it  is 
surrounded  by  a  moat,  or  defended  by  a  wall  ?  No.  It  may  be  a  straw-bailt 
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,  ^^A'vel  Oesar,  Imperatarl  Mori- 
turi  U  salutantl^  these  self-immolating  modems  seem  to  cry : 

"  Hurrah  for  the  Brother  of  the  Sun  1  Hurrah  for  the  Father  of  the  Moon  ! 
In  all  the  world  there's  none  like  Quashiboo. 

Buffalo  of  bufiEaloes !    Bull  of  bulla  I    He  rits  on  a  throne  of  his  tul^ects' aknOs. 
And  if  he  needs  more  to  play  at  foot-ball,  oars  all  for  him— aU  I  all  I  . 
Huggabajee !    Huggabajoo  I    Hail,  Lord  and  Emperor  of  Bugaboo  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  hbspitality,  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 
anvarying  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  proi^ounced  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  him  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  sjrstem  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. 

C9n8tantl7  inculcates,  by  precept  and  by  very  strong  example.''  If  a  man  es> 
pects  to  "  get  on,"  he  must  adapt  his  notions  and  conduct  as  closely  as  pm- 
sible  to  those  of  "  the  class  just  above  " ;  and  he  is  under  the  constant  pressmc 
of  temptation  to  so  conduct  himself  as  to  deceive  others  into  thinking  that  he 
has  "  got  on,"  in  advance  of  the  fact.  No  scheme  could  be  better  devised 
for  producing  artificiality  and  uniformity,  and  for  concealing  every  trace  of 
** nature";  and  if  any  Englishman,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  pro- 
fesses that  he  is  not  in  some  degree  affected  by  this  fnndamenul  fact  of 
his  environment,  he  declares  that  he  is  more  than  human.  In  every  dv- 
ilized  country  the  struggle  to  "keep  up  appearances"  absorbs  most  of 
the  energy  of  the  human  race ;  but  the  conditions  of  existence  in  England 
cause  the  struggle  to  rage  there  with  phenomenal  intensity  and  obtmstve- 
ness.  The  inevitable  compulsion  under  which  each  class  imitates  **  its  bet- 
ters," results,  of  course,  in  the  transfer  of  the  same  ideal  from  the  richest  to 
the  pooresL  As  the  chief  ambition  of  the  wealthy  is  to  own  an  establishment 
so  vast  that  the  machinery  for  managing  it  obliterates  the  owner's  personality 
the  chief  vanity  of  the  very  poor  is  to  boast  the  ability  to  hire  some  one  st91 
poorer,  for  a  **  slavey,"  and  to  put  their  necks  under  the  yoke  of  her  caprice 
and  inefficiency.  No  Englishman  feels  that  he  is  quite  respectable  unless  lie 
makes  his  life  in  some  way  dependent  upon  a  social  inferior  whom  he  caa 
nominally  command, — unless  he  occasionally  postures,  in  one  guise  or  an* 
other,  as  "an  employer."'  The  universal  prevalence  of  this  habit-of-mind  ii 
illustrated  by  the  story  (otherwise  pointless)  of  a  certain  **  literary  discus- 
sion "  in  which  the  first  speaker  indignantly  asks :  **  Do  you  suppose  there  H 
any  truth  in  the  rumor  that  Lord  Suchaplace  didn't  really  write  his  recendy 
published  book  of  poems  ?  "  ^nd  the  second  speaker  says,  with  languid  sur- 
prise :  "  Write  'em  ?  Why  should  he  ?  I  never  heard  that  he  was  sodi  a 
.stingy,  man.  Of  course  he  employed  a  servant  to  make  the  book  for  him." 
The  joke  implied  in  this  matter-of-fact  stripping  oft  of  the  last  shred  of  re- 
sponsibility, in  a  case  essentially  personal,  is  relished  by  everybody,  1 


^There  is  no  natioo  in  the  world  that  has  to  acute  a  aeiMe  of  the  vakie,  ahaoak  the  iimiwilf, 
of  wealth  for  human  interooune  as  the  English  nation.  They  nlently  accept  the  masdm,  "  A 
large  income  is  a  necessary  of  life  ** ;  and  they  class  eadi  other  aocoiding  to  the  scale  of  their 
establishments,  looking  up  with  unfeigned  reverence  to  those  who  have  many  servants,  msny 
horses,  and  gigantic  houses  where  a  great  hospitality  is  dispensed.  An  ordinaiy  EngfidoMi 
tbinlcs  he  has  fadled  in  Kfe,  and  his  friends  are  of  the  same  opinion,  if  he  does  not  arrive  at  tke 
ability  to  imitate  this  style  and  state,  at  least  in  a  minor  degree.  I  think  it  deeply  to  bedeploicd 
that  an  expenditure  far  beyond  what  can  be  met  by  the  physical  or  intellectual  labor  of  oidinaiy 
workers  should  be  thoo^t  necessary,  in  order  that  people  may  meet  and  talk  in  comforL  The 
big  English  house  is  a  machine,  whidi  runs  with  unrivaled  smoothness ;  but  it  masters  its  maifer, 
it  possesses  its  nominal  possessor.  George  Borrow  had  the  deepest  sense  of  the  EngKiAmsa^ 
slavery  to  his  big,  well-ordered  dwelling,  and  saw  in  it  the  cause  of  unnumbered  anzietaes,  ofta 
ending  in  heart-diaease,  paralysis,  bankruptcy,  and  in  minor  cases  sacrificing  all  chance  of  kisave 
and  quiet  happiness.  Many  a  land-owner  has  crippled  himself  by  erecting  a  great  hooae  on  hii 
estate, — one  of  those  huge,  tasteless  buildings  that  express  nothing  but  pompous  pride.— 
*'  Human  lateroourse,"  by  P.  G.  Hamerton,  p.  145  (Boston:  Roberts  Bros..  1884.  PP.  430)* 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS. 


447 


each  one  is  secretly  conscious  of  the  many  cases  where  he  himself  feels  con- 
8trained»  for  appearance's  sake,  **  to  employ  a  servant,"  in  doing  what  might 
be  more  pleasantly  and  decently  done  by  his  own  hands.  I  believe  it  was 
President  Lincoln  who  remarked,  in  reference  to  the  expressed  amazement  of 
some  titled  foreigner,  over  a  newspaper  statement  that  the  President  some^ 
times  expedited  matters  l^  blacking  his  own  boots :  "  Well,  I  Ve  always 
noticed  that  the  folks  who  are  ashamed  of  doing  any  such  proper  act  for 
themselves  never  have  any  scruples  about  blacking  other  people's  boots  I  " 
Perhaps  the  unpleasant  necessity  of  continually  "truckling  to  the  class 
above  *'  needs  the  counter  irritant  of  rigid  adherence  to  the  custom  of  **  em- 
ploying some  one  below,"  as  a  means  of  preserving  to  the  Briton  his  self- 
respect.  At  all  events,  he  is  apt  to  look  with  contempt  upon  all  fellow-beings 
who  habitually  perform  certain  personal  offices  without  paid  assistance. 
Poverty  or  penuriousness  is  the  only  explanation  which  he  can  assign  for 
stich  conduct, — or  for  the  use  of  water  as  a  beverage.  The  drinking  of 
•*  something  better "  seems,  in  its  way,  to  the  minds  of  "  the  lower  classes,** 
a  token  of  affluence  and  ''respectability.'*  That  belief,  therefore,  helps  in- 
tensify their  resentment  of  legal  restrictions  upon  such  indulgence,  and  to 
give  political  potency  to  their  cry : 

"  Damn  your  eyes,  if  ever  you  tries  to  rob  a  poor  man  of  bis  beer  1 " 

The  ••globe-trotting "proclivities  of  the  well-to-do  English,  which  have 
won  for  them  the  title  of  **  a  nation  of  travelers,"  seem  to  me  perfectly  ex- 
plained by  the  necessity  they  labor  under  of  seeking  abroad  an  antidote  for 
their  continuous  self-suppression  at  home.  "  The  great  distinction  which  rank 
and  money  obtain  in  England  must  at  times  grow  unspeakably  irksome  to  those 
who  spend  their  lives  in  the  midst  of  its  society."  Unless  they  had  the  outer 
world  to  wreak  themselves  upon — unless  they  could  occasionally  break  away 
from  the  self-imposed  and  ever-present  thralldom  of  living  in  subjection  to 
their  servants — they  would  simply  die  from  the  cumulative  pressure  of  their 
own  eminent  respectability  I  When  last  I  sojourned  in  the  shadow  of  this,  a 
decade  ago,  I  had  for  a  companion  an  excellent  little  book  (newly  published 
then,  by  a  Yale  graduate  of  '64)  from  which  I  've  already  adapted  a  phrase 
or  two,  and  from  which  I  will  now  extract  a  longer  paragraph,  as  well  repre- 
senting my  own  observations  on  the  spot.  I  have  italicized  the  sentence 
which  seems  to  best  formulate  the  reason  for  the  personal  colorlessness  of 
"  society  people,"  in  all  climes  and  countries  : 

I  foaad  everywhere  an  exoessive  req>ect  of  the  indiridaal  for  the  sentiment  of  the  mass— I 
mem  in  regani  to  behavior.  In  matters  of  opinion  there  is  greater  latitude  than  with  us.  Noww 
adays  a  man  in  England  may  believe  anything  he  chooses ;  the  reason  being,  I  suppose,  that 
bdieis  have  not  much  root  or  practical  importance.  Authority  seems  to  have  left  the  domain  of 
thought  and  literature,  and  to  have  invaded  that  of  manners.  Of  the  two  sorts  of  tyranny,  I  think 
I  should  prefer  the  first  I  should  rather  be  compelled  to  write  my  poetry  in  pentameters,  and 
to  speak  with  re^MCt  of  the  Church  and  the  Govenareent,  than  to  be  forever  made  to  behave  as 
other  people  dictate.    I  know  Englishmen  do  not  accept  tUs  as  true  of  themselves.    One  of 


448  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

them,  to  whom  I  had  hinted  soi^ethmg  of  the  tort»  said,  "  Oh,  I  don't  know ;  we  do  afaoot  as 
we  please."  Precisely ;  but  they  have  lived  so  constantly  in  the  eyes  of  other  people,  have  goC 
so  used  to  conforming,  that  they  never  think  of  wanting  to  do  what  society  would  disapprove  oL 
They  have  been  so  in  the  habit  of  subdui$tg  whatever  naihte  individuaiUy  they  possess,  thai  they 
have  at  last  got  rid  of  it.  Of  course,  it  would  be  impoaaible  to  make  them  beliere  this.  TlKy 
mistake  their  inattention,  the  hostile  front  they  present  to  the  worid,  and  their  indifference  to 
the  strictures  of  foreigners  when  they  are  abroad,  for  real  independence  and  a  aelf-idiaBt  ad> 
herence  to  nature.  But  there  seems  to  rae  to  be  something  conventional  even  about  the  ntde 
and  lounging  manners  of  which  they  are  so  proud.  It  is  like  the  "  stand-at-ease  "  of  soldieriw 
It  would  be  highly  improper  and  contrary  to  orders  to  do  anything  else.  Englishmen  appeared 
to  me  to  be  criticising  themselves  away ;  but  the  age  everywhere  partakes  of  the  tendency.  It 
has  come  to  attach  great  importance  to  proper  externals,  to  aeemlinesa,  to  a  djgnififd  and  Inmo- 
nious  behavior.  We  all  devote  an  exceedingly  particular  and  nuanosoc^ic  care  to  oar  oiitwaid 
walk  and  conversation.  This  is  true  of  Americans,  and  it  is  true  of  all  educated  English  peopk ; 
but  the  disease  reaches  its  extremest  form  among  Englishmen  of  fashion  and  quality.—"  Im- 
pressions of  London  Social  Life,"  by  E.  S.  Nadal,  pp.  xo-ia  (New  York  :  Scribners,  1875). 

The  final  words  of  the  same  book  (pp.  217-223)  seem  also  worth  quoting 
here,  as  a  correct  showing  of  the  social  conditions  which  exist  in  the  Ameri- 
can metropolis.  How  such  conditions  are  affected  by  aristocracy  and  by 
democracy  seems  to  me  excellently  shown  by  thus  contrasting  the  two  great- 
est cities  of  the  English-speaking  race : 

There  is  no  society  in  New  York  which  corresponds  to  that  of  London  or  Paris,  and  any 
writer  who  attempts  to  make  the  idea  that  there  is  the  key-note  of  his  work  will  be  likely  to 
produce  a  silly,  vulgar  book.  Whether  or  no  there  should  be  such  societies,  or  whether, 
where  they  exist,  they  do  good  or  harm,  I  do  not  say.  I  only  say  that  there  is  no  such  society 
among  us,  and  that  novelists  should  not  write  as  if  there  were.  There  are  yet  some  onreasona- 
ble  discriminations  concerning  employments  among  us,  but  it  is  certain  that  the  movement  of 
public  sentiment  has  been  strongly  and  rapidly  towards  democracy.  There  was,  dtning  the  cariy 
years  of  our  existence,  an  approach  to  a  national  aristocradc  society.  A  governor  or  a  senator, 
a  judge,  a  commodore,  or  a  general,  was  an  aristocrat.  Anybody  who  reflected  or  represented 
the  dignity  of  the  government  was  an  aristocrat.  This  feeling  continued  till  near  the  midiile 
of  the  century,  or  imtil  the  second  generation  of  statesmen  had  disappeared.  It  has  now  gooe 
"  where  the  woodbine  twineth  *'  to  use  the  significant  expression  of  the  significant  Jim  Fi^ 
The  extreme  weakness  of  the  aristocratic  element  among  us  at  present  is  in  part— in  very  snaB 
part— to  be  explained  by  the  want  of  respect  in  our  people.  A  plain  man  in  this  coontry  cam 
nothing  for  the  man  who  is  above  him ;  is  rather  proud,  and  believes  it  to  be  a  virtue,  that  he 
does  not  care.  Nor  does  it  appear  a  thing  to  be  regretted  that  such  a  state  of  mind  exists  ia 
the  humbler  citizen  towards  the  greater  one.  It  is  well  to  have  A  admire  B,  if  he  is  a  person  of 
superior  rectitude,  energy  and  intelligence.  But  what  advantage  will  it  be  to  society  to  have  K 
admire  B  because  B  lives  in  a  better  house  and  may  have  a  better  dinner  than  A  ?  There 
is  no  need  to  put  the  cart  before  the  horse.  The  value  of  veneration  among  the  masKs  of  men 
is  obvious  where  they  have  anything  to  venerate.  And  there  can  be  no  want  of  the  capacity 
for  respect  among  our  people.  It  is  absurd  to  call  this  "  a  country  in  which  superiorities  are 
neither  coveted  nor  respected."  The  contrary  is  the  fact ;  the  few  real  superiorities  that  we 
have  are,  perhaps,  respected  too  much.  The  bulk  of  our  reading  public  know  enough  to  leoog- 
nize  what  is  excellent,  but  have  not  the  critical  self-confidence  which  is  the  pit^pertj  of  edocated 
men.  They  therefore  fail  to  insist  that  the  greatest  men  have  their  limitations  and  cannot  io> 
elude  everything ;  but,  in  a  kind  of  dazed  reverie,  accept  whatever  is  toM  them. 

The  national  aristocratic  society  has  disappeared  with  the  disappearance  of  respect  for  the 
politician.  What  is  called  "  position  "  is  in  this  country  now  altogether  local  This  b  neces- 
sarily true.    A  is  known  among  his  neighbors  as  a  rich  and  decent  person ;  his  wriie  and  dsqgb- 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS. 


449 


ters  are  *'  nice  *'  (the  American  for  **  noble  '*),  either  abeolutely  or  relatively  to  the  people  around 
them.     A  has  podtion  therefore  in  his  own  town ;  if  he  moves  elsewhere  he  does  not  inevitably 
take  it  with  him.    Now,  in  very  little  and  very  simple  communities,  these  ideas  of  position  and 
precedent  are  most  important.    In  a  very  great  place,  on  the  other  hand,  few  men  are  large 
enough  to  be  seen  over  the  whole  town.    As  a  consequence,  we  see  that  New  York  is  perhaps 
the  most  democratic  town  in  the  country.     It  has  become  so  during  the  years  in  which  it  has 
been  ahooting  into  a  position  of  sudi  national  and  cosmopolitan  importance.    It  is  now  quite  as 
democratic  a  pboe  as  the  inevitable  varieties  of  accident  and  talent  among  men  wiU  permit  it  to  be. 
The  artifice  of  exclusiveneas,  which  is  sure  to  succeed  in  a  smaller  place,  will  not  do  here. 
People  greatly  desire  to  do  what  they  find  difficult  to  do.     They  do  not  care  at  all  to  do  what  they 
know  they  may  do.     Accordingly,  in  a  town  or  dty  of  moderate  size,  the  people  who  wish  to  be 
thousb^  better  than  their  neighbors,  and  who  have  some  little  advantage  to  start  with,  are  wise  to 
keep  to  themselves.    They  thus  prevent  their  neighbors  from  finding  out  that  the  excluded  and 
the  ezdusives  are  just  alike.    They  have  for  their  ally  that  profound  want  of  confidence  of  ordi- 
nary people  in  their  own  perceptions.    But  this  is  a  device  which  will  not  do  in  a  dty  of  the  size 
and  wide-reaching  importance  of  New  York.     What  will  the  mover  of  commerce  or  politics  over 
the  face  of  the  country  care  for  the  opinion  of  the  gentlewoman  around  the  comer,  who  thinks  him 
valgar  ?    Thus  we  see  it  to  be  impossible  that  any  dominant  sodety  may  exist  in  this  country. 
The  recognition  of  this  fact  should  teach  quiet  to  people  indined  to  be  restless.    It  need  not  be 
unwelcome  to  the  friend  of  man,  for  he  will  remember  that  democracy  does  not  mean  (he  tri- 
umph of  utility  over  dignity  and  refinement,  but  that  it  means  dignity  and  refinement  for  the 
many.     Writers  of  fiction  may  regret  the  want  of  diversity  and  picturesqueness  which  the  fact 
involves,  but  it  is  always  well  to  know  the  truth ;  if  they  desire  to  avoid  vulgarity  and  the  waste 
of  soch  opportunides  as  they  have,  they  must  heed  it    To  make  men  and  women  interesting  as 
members  of  sodety  is  denied  them ;  but  should  these  writers  have  the  wit  to  paint  men  and 
women  as  they  are,  the  field  is  wide  enough.    There  are  on  all  sides  people  who  are  channing 
to  contemplate,  and  whom  it  should  be  a  pleasure  to  describe. 

The  social  life  of  America  is  ruled  by  the  servants,  just  as  relentlessly  as 
that  of  England,  but  the  tyranny  takes  a  somewhat  different  shape,  on  ac- 
cotmt  of  the  changed  environment.  They  rule  here  by  their  insolence  and 
worthlessness  (the  result  of  a  happy-go-lucky  consciousness  of  ability  to  earn 
a  livelihood,  and  **  perhaps  better  their  chances,"  whenever  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 
with  similar  correctness  and  solemnity;  bat  an  American's  are  so  pert  and 
untrustworthy — so  likely  to  desert  him  as  soon  as  he  has  drilled  them  to  a 
fair  degree  of  efficiency,  or  stands  in  special  need  of  their  services — that  they 
prevent  the  construction  of  any  elaborate  social  machine  whatever.  I  am 
aware,  of  course,  that  the  non-existence  of  such  a  thing  in  the  Western 
World  is  due,  in  a  broad  sense,  to  the  sweep  of  democracy.  There  is  simply 
no  place  for  it  in  our  free  system  of  living,  as  is  well  shown  by  the  writer 
whom  I  have  just  quoted.  But  as  the  impossibility  of  procuring  a  perma- 
nent retinue  of  personal  servitors — a  set  of  well-trained  menials  who  can  al- 
ways be  depended  upon  to  operate  a  complicated  system  of  housekeeping, 
.  without  jar  or  friction — is  itself  a  direct  result  of  the  one>man-*s-as-good-as- 
anotber  axiom,  I  think  it  right  to  make  a  point  of  asserting  this  one  imme> 
diately  practical  part  of  the  argument,  in  preference  to  the  whole  general 


4S0 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


truth.  I  know  that,  among  the  wealthy,  there  may  be  occasionally  foond  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-to-do  Englishman.  I  know  that,  among  the  multitude  of  luxurious- 
ly-appointed  houses  in  this  rich  city,  a  few  may  be  found  whose  smoothness 
of  '*  movement "  seems  permanently  assured,  in  spite  of  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  favorable  to  an  unreserved  conversation,  a  prominent  place 
in  it  will  almost  always  be  given  to  the  trials  and  tribulations  experienced  at 
the  hands  of  their  "  help."  Like  "  politics "  in  the  case  of  a  pair  of  men 
similarly  situated,  this  is  one  of  the  stock  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  privacy 
and  comforts  of  a  home  are  prized  less  here  than  there.  It  is  simply  be- 
cause our  womankind  break  down  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  m€nage  implies  the  presence  of  only  one  servant, 
or  of  a  full  dozen,  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  constraint  analogous  to  that 
which  crushes  an  English  householder  in  the  presence  of  his  servants,  but 
without  the  compensation  which  he  enjoys  in  dignity  and  privacy  and  re- 
pose. Whoever  inhabits  a  house  to  which  another  family  besides  his  ova 
may  have  access  is  always  exposed  to  the  danger  of  contact  with  people 
whose  presence  is  disagreeable,  whose  acquaintanceship  is  undesirable,  whose 
evil  tongues  produce  gossip  and  backbiting,  and  whose  evil  acts  result  in 


^  A  few  days  alter  this  paragraph  was  pot  in  type,  I  came  across  a  ooDfin&atioD  of  it  ia  a  let- 
ter coooerning  "South-Coast  Living  in  England."  It  was  written  in  Devonshire,  Autgust  8; 
and,  as  New  Yorkers  will  generally  recognize  the  writer  as  an  entirely  competent  witness,  oa 
account  of  his  extensive  international  experiences,  I  am  glad  to  quote  the  paragraph  wfaidi  coa- 
cems  my  argument :  "  In  America  we  are  very  fond  of  boasting  of  our  superior  comfort,  hat 
this  consists  in  our  having  booses  provided  with  every  convenience  and  scmctural  fadfiiy  for 
comfort,  in  which,  except  for  laige  incomes,  real  comfort  is  out  of  the  question,  for  want  of  good 
service.  In  our  own  homes  the  miserable  dependence  on  wretched  ser^'ants  makes  life  ooly 
diluted  woe.  In  exceptional  cases,  and  at  great  cost,  people  in  America  can  enjoy  comfort  io 
their  own  houses ;  but  when  we  go  away  for  the  summer  the  comfort  of  the  poorest  watering- 
place  in  England  is  not  to  be  had  for  love  or  money.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  «e 
have  the  maximum  of  domestic  comfort  in  America ;  say  what  wo  win,  that  is  leaerved  for 
England.**— W.  J.  Stillrau,  io  the  ATo^mm,  Km%.  97,  1885,  p.  169. 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        451 

puUic  scandal.    These  and  its  other  eyident  disadvantages  render  hoteMife 
necessarily  restless  and  transitory.    It  is  a  makeshift ;  a  temporary  device 
for   **  getting  along  *'  until  the  arrival  of  some  happier  day  when  a  better  and 
more  permanent  mode  of  living  can  be  sought  elsewhere.     A  methodically- 
inimded  person,  whose  sense  of  locality  is  so  strongly  developed  that  he  takes 
pleaisure  in  thinking  of  his  home  as  a  fixture  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  " 
Tliis  edict  may  come  not  only  in  the  form  of  an  outbreak  of  any  one  of  the 
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 
N'ew  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,''  the  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  every  trace  of  "  gentility  "  from  hb  surroundings. 

An  additional  social  danger  (which  threatens  the  pride  of  permanent 
tenancy,  if  not  the  fact  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  describmg  the  topography  of  the  dty  (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  north-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, iiaa  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-fronts,  shelter  none  but  very  poor  people.    Each  of  the  fifteen 
other  parallel  avenues  between  these  extremes  has  a  more-or-less  generally 
recognized  "  character  "  of  its  own ;  though  there  are,  of  course,  great  con- 
trasts between  specific  sections  of  the  same  avenue,  that  lie  four  or  five  miles 
apart.    Nevertheless,  the  numbered  east-and-west  streets  of  the  metropolitan 
"  gridiron  "  are  the  ones  that  contain  the  vast  bulk  of  our  well-to-do  people  5 
while,  as  the  "  character  lines  "  are  drawn  across  them  at  right  angles  by  the 
"  avenues  "  (of  greatly  varying  reputations),  no  single  '*  street  "  can  hope  to 
have  a  uniform  "  character  "  for  its  whole  two  miles, — such  as  is  accredited 
to  Fifth  Avenue's  .straight  stretch  of  thrice  thit  distance,  from  Washington 
Square  to  the  Harlem.    Hence  results  the  social  peril  alluded  to  in  the  open- 
ing words  of  my  paragnfph :  that  the  numerous  people  quite  the  reverse  of 
"nice,'*  who  must  of  necessity  occupy  numerous  houses  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  Uke), 
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- 
tingulshable  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  the  owners  may  have  lived  there  nearly  as  long,  in  spite 
of  the  temptation  to  follow  the  wave  of  fashion  that  through  all  these  yeais 
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  wealtii  does  not  inevitably  debar  a  New  Yorker  from  having  a  pennanent 
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  theatere,  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."    Thns 
it  happens  that,  as  a  vast  floating  population,  of  the  sort  which  practitioners 
of  "  the  profitable  vices "  best  like  to  prey  upon,  always  demand  police  at. 
tention,  either  for  control  or  defense,  within  the  boundaries  of  '*  the  agtfa," 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOUS.        453 

the  name  <A  the  street  containing  its  station-house  suffers  somewhat  by  fall- 
ing  under  the  shadow  of  their  wickedness.  Bat  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.: 

W^henever  a  house  is  for  sale  or  rent  in  Fifth  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  izaworthy  uses;  lest  they  may  be  hourly  shocked  by  a  plebeian  neighbor  who  is  what  they 
themaelves  were  twenty  years,  or  five  years,  or  perhaps  a  few  months  before.    Their  vigilance 
ia  sleepless  in  this  regard;  still  they  have  often  been  compelled  to  buy  -out  common  tradesmen 
•Old  ambitious  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. 
Bediming  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 
tnarvelotia.    The  architecture  is  not  only  impressive,  it  is  oppressive.    Its  great  defect  is  in  its 
monotony,  which  soon  grows  tiresome.    A  variation,  a  oontrast— something  much  less  ornate  or 
dafaorate--would  be  a  relief.    Its  lack  of  enclosures,  of  ground,  of  grasa^ilats,  of  gardens,  is  a 
visnal  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  wmdow  facings  for  which  Philadelphia  has  become  provei1>ia].    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 
Park  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  all  dreamed  the  same  dream  of  beauty  the  same  night,  and  in  the  morning  have  found 
it  realixed ;  so  they  frown  sternly  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  thoroughfore,  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  sum  of 
Fifth  Avenue  wealth  is  unqiiestionably  far  beyond  that  of  any  street  in  the  country.    The 
dwellings  cost  more ;  the  furniture  and  works  of  art  are  more  expensive ;  the  incomes  of  the  in- 
mates are  larger  and  more  prodigally  spent  than  they  are  anjrwhere  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  onnfort,  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  Irescoes ;  what  marbles  of  grace.    The  people  who  live  side  by  side  in  the 
pretentious  avenue  know  each  other  not.    Knickerbocker  and  parvenu,  the  inheritor  of  wealth 
and  the  ardiitect  of  his  own  fortune,  the  genuine  gentleman  and  the  vulgar  snob,  reside  in  the 
same  blodc.    One  house  is  visited  by  the  best  and  most  distinguished ;  the  house  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  spdling.    Stnne  of  the  most  spadous  and  expenave  mansions  on  the  avenue 


454 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


always  have  a  deserted  look.  Only  the  occwpanla  and  aenraats  appear  «n  tlie  \^^  caned 
stoop ;  only  the  carriages  the  master  of  the  estabUshment  owns  stop  before  the  door,  llat 
family  purchased  a  house  v\  the  avenue,  but  sodety  has  not  accepted  its  memben.  Tbey  have 
nothing  but  a  new  fortune  to  recommend  them.  They  must  bide  their  time.  The  fint  geaexa- 
tion  of  the  unrecognised  fares  hard.  The  aecood  is  educated  and  the  third  daima  lineage  pates 
of  "  gentility/*  and  frowns  upon  what  its  gram^Murents  were.  To  get  into  the  avenne  and  ato 
its  society  are  different  things.  They  who  struggle  to  enter  certain  circles  are  not  waoled. 
Those  who  are  indifferent  to  mere  fashion  are  in  request ;  for  not  to  seek,  socially,  is  nsaaHy  to 
be  sot^ht.  Fifth  Avenue  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  phenomena,  and  its  growth  one  of  the  extrvr- 
dinary  developments  of  this  peculiar  age. — N.  Y.  cor.  of  the  PkHadg^kia  Ptntst,  May  r4,  1885. 

Thus,  through  this  famous  Avenue,  my  pen  at  last  comes  back  to  the 
curious  Castle  which  stands  at  the  head  of  it»  and  which  I  wish  to  celebrate 
for  the  contrast  which  the  freedom  attainable  within  its  walls  offers  to  the 
"servitude  to  servants'*  that  generally  prevails  elsewhere.  Though  there 
may  be  some  who  actually  enjoy  personal  contact  with  that  sort  of  people,  it 
can  be  fairly  assumed  that  the  majority  would  prefer  to  employ  any  practi- 
cable mechanical  appliance  to  effect  the  same  results.  The  majority  recog- 
nize that  the  employment  of  the  human  machine  is  an  evil,  but  they  resort  to 
it  as  an  inevitable  necessity, — ^because  no  substitute  is  obtainable  for  properly 
performing  the  drudgery  of  civilized  life.  When  their  servitude  to  this 
"  necessary  evil  "  grows  absolutely  unendurable  from  long  continuance,  they 
"  make  a  break  for  the  woods,"  and  adopt  a  savage  life  for  a  while,— <3unp- 
ing  out  and  **  doing  their  own  work," — or  else  they  resort  to  travel,  which, 
though  it  implies  a  great  deal  of  dependence  upon  menials,  at  least  frees  the 
relationship  from  the  personal  element :  no  single  one  of  them  wields  supreme 
power.  A  variety  of  gains,  of  course,  results  both  from  "the  Tisiting  of 
many  cities  **  and  from  "  roughing  it  in  the  wilds  ** ;  but  the  chief  gain  possi- 
ble from  either  experience  is  the  relief  offered  from  wearing  the  yoke  of 
conformity.  It  is  only  while  freed  from  the  routine  tyranny  of  his  own 
house  that  a  man  can  afford  to  be  his  simple  self,  to  live  naturally,  to  do  jost 
what  he  likes,  to  speak  his  own  mind. 

When  I  assert,  therefore,  that  a  tenant  of  the  University  may  there  secmt 
for  himself  continuously  either  the  absolute  isolation  of  a  savage  in  the 
wilderness,  or  the  relative  isolation  of  a  traveler  through  the  cities, — that  he 
may  there  approximate  the  ideal  of  intellectual  independence  exactly  accord- 
ing to  the  degree  of  his  willingness  to  sacrifice  creature  comforts  and  con- 
ventional luxuries, — I  assert  what  can  be  truly  said  of  no  other  house  in  the 
world.  This  statement  of  its  distinctive  quality  shows,  of  course,  why  the 
Building  makes  so  strong  an  appeal  to  those  who  can  sympathize  with  the  or 
of  Shelley :  "  I  will  submit  to  any  other  species  of  torture  than  that  of  being 
bored  to  death  by  idle  ladies  and  gentlemen."  The  conventional  escape 
which  is  allowed  an  active  young  New  Yorker  of  wealth  and  fashion  from 
this  sort  of  conventional  torture,  is  •*  the  running  of  a  cattle  ranch  oat  m 
Montana."  His  frivolous  friends  do  not  resent  as  a  personal  affront  snch 
scurrying  away  for  "the  plains,"  and  he  may  even  print  a  book  like  "Hunt- 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        455 

ing  Trips  of  a  Ranchman  "  without  rousing  their  languid  consciousness  to  the 
fact  that  its  existence  is  a  significant  tribute  to  their  own  utter  uninteresting- 
ness.  They  will  be  apt  to  act  differently,  however,  if,  instead  of  hiding  from 
them  amid  the  mountains  of  Washington  Territory,  "  where  rolls  the  Oregon, 
and  hears  no  sound  save  his  own  dashings,*'  he  ventures  to  pitch  his  lonely 
camp  upon  the  castled  crag  that  frowns  o*er  the  wide  acres  of  Washington 
Square.  There,  his  seclusion  seems  rendered  more  profound  by  the  muffled 
roar  of  a  mighty  city's  traffic  which  ceaselessly  rolls  its  human  tide  along  the 
great  thoroughfares  beyond ;  and  there,  without  the  expense,  and  waste,  and 
discomfort  demanded  by  a  sojourn  in  the  Far  West,  he  may  "  rough  it "  to  his 
heart's  content.  But  there,  also,  such  unsocial  conduct  will  be  stigmatized 
as  ^.crankiness  **  by  the  fine  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  may  chance  to  hear 
of  it ; — for  the  notion  of  his  permanently  "  camping  out  *'  in  the  midst  of  a 
great  city,  and  leading  the  free  and  unsophisticated  life  of  a  gentle  savage,  in 
preference  to  taking  part  in  their  own  "  chromo  civilization  "  which  surrounds 
him,  is  a  notion  of  such  direct  and  unequivocal  contempt  for  their  authority 
that  the  sting  of  it  has  power  to  penetrate  even  the  dense  vanity  and  stolid 
self-complacency  of  such  **  social  leaders." 

I  entertain  a  theory  as  to  a  certain  little  room  in  the  University,  which  is 
of  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a  hunter's  hut,  that  the  bachelor  owner  thereof 
never  lets  another  human  being  enter  it ;  that  he  has  no  carpet,  nor  easy 
chairs,  nor  bed  nor  bed-clothing;  and  that,  when  he  spends  a  night  in 
the  den,  he  throws  himself  into  a  hammock,  pulls  a  bear-skin  or  buffalo-pelt 
over  his  usual  attire,  for  the  sake  of  warmth,  and,  with  a  pistol-holster  under 
his  head  for  a  pillow,  gazes  at  the  stars  above  the  tree-tops  until  his  closed 
eyes  bring  dreams  of  "  old  times  among  the  Rockies."  I  imagine  that  he  has 
a  few  grimy  paintings  and  dusty  war-relics  for  ornaments,  and  a  few  well-worn 
books  for  companions ;  and  that  he  takes  pride  in  the  cobwebs  and  dirt  and 
disorder  which  characterize  his  abode, — ^rejoicing  daily  at  the  tangible  testi- 
mony which  they  give  of  the  uninterruptedness  of  his  occupancy,  and  of  the 
powerlessness  of  any  menial  intruder  to  "  arrange  "  his  possessions  accord- 
ing to  some  cast-iron  system  of  propriety.  I  know  nothing  at  all  of  the  life 
led  by  this  man,  or  by  any  other  one  of  my  co-partners  in  the  Castle.  I  only 
say  that  the  sort  of  existence  which  I  have  attributed  to  him  would  be  entirely 
practicable  here,  and  would  attract  no  notice  or  comment.  If  a  "  society 
man  "  never  really  indulges  in  it,  it  is  merely  because  he  does  not  esteem 
such  indulgence  worth  the  sacrifice  of  all  his  fashionable  affiliations ; — be- 
cause he  deems  it  cheaper  to  get  the  same  kind  of  thing  by  "  roughing  it " 
under  the  conventional  conditions  which  do  not  arouse  the  resentment  of  the 
stay-at-homes  of  Fifth  Avenue.  He  knows  that  *'  on  the  plains  of  the  Far 
West "  he  can  "  run  his  own  ranch  "  without  seeming  to  them  ridiculous  or 
•*  cranky  ";  but  he  hardly  has  nerve  enough  to  attempt  the  same  experiment  in 
their  immediate  presence,  on  the  plains  of  Washington  Square. 

Most  men,  however,  even  among  those  who  hate  conformity,  do  not  care 


456  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  modem  science  al- 
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  and 
permanent  machinery  of  his  apartments  as  would  suffice  to  purchase  a  good- 
sized  house  in  the  country,  he  may  enjoy  a  fair  degree  of  comfort  or  even 
luxury,  without  the  loss  of  liberty  which  such  enjoyment  usually  implies.    If 
he  is  willing  to  put  in  water-works,  telephones,  electric-lights,  fireplaces, 
chimneys,  elevators,  floorings,  doors,  windows  and  wails  (all  these,  without 
any  written  lease,  and  without  any  assurance,  save  the  mere  vis  in^rtue  of  the 
place,  that  his  **  improvements  *'  will  not  be  made  a  pretext  for  an  increase  in 
his  rent,  or  the  transfer  of  his  chambers  to  some  one  else),  he  may  fairly  sup- 
ply the  more  obtrusive  physical  deficiencies  of  a  house  that  has  been  stand- 
ing  for    a    half-century,  that    was    built  chiefly  with  a  view  to  securing 
impressiveness  of  outward  aspect,  and  that  was  not  designed  to  be  lived  in  at 
all.    A  man  may  readily  arrange  that  a  washer-woman  shall  bring  and  take 
his  clothes  without  entering  his  door,  or  even  setting  eyes  on  him  personally. 
He  may  adopt  a  similar  scheme  in  reference  to  the  waiters  whom  he  summons 
by  telephone  from  a  restaurant  to  bring  him  food  or  drink.    He  may  likewise 
keep  a  valet  "  on  call,^  who  never  sees  his  face,  or  oppresses  him  with  atten- 
tions that  are  not  desired.    The  police,  the  fire  alarm  and  the  messenger  serv- 
ice may  be  brought  to  his  immediate  command  by  the  touching  of  a  knobi 
In  other  words,  if  a  man  of  wealth  thinks  it  worth  while,  it  is  entirely  practi- 
cable for  him  to  arrange  here  a  scheme  by  which  he  may  employ  a  great  many 
people  to  help  him  carry  on  quite  an  elegant  and  elaborate  system  of  living, 
but  in  a  quite  impersonal  way, — I  mean  without  the  friction  and  annoyance 
of  direct  contact  and  acquaintanceship.     Perhaps  no  such  man  ever  does  in 
fact  lead  such  a  life  here.    All  I  insist  upon  is  that  the  conditions  exist  here 
for  leading  it,  as  they  exist  nowhere  else,  and  that  the  fact  of  leading  it 
would  excite  no  observation  or  comment. 

Pungent  fumes  from  the  chemical  experiments  in  the  laboratories  may 
sometimes  ascend  the  stairways,  but  nothing  so  suggestive  of  ordinary  human 
life  as  the  odor  of  food  will  often  be  encountered  there  or  in  the  connecting 
corridors.  No  cooking  goes  on  in  the  Building,  except  that  of  the  janitor's 
small  m€nage,  in  the  subterranean  regions  j  and  it  is  only  on  great  occasions 
that  this  is  rank  enough  to  smell  to  heaven.  Hotels,  restaurants,  and  board- 
ing-houses, of  all  styles  and  prices,  may  be  found  within  a  half-mile  radius, 
and  in  these  the  tenants  of  the  Castle  may  be  presumed  to  take  most  of  their 
solitary  repasts.  Breakfasts  are  regularly  brought  in  to  the  chambers  of  some 
of  them,  however ;  and  such  as  possess  telephone  connection  no  doubt  use  it 
to  summon  in  the  more  extensive  meals  of  the  day,  whenever  bad  weather  or 
indolence  disposes  them  to  avoid  the  trouble  of  going  out.     The  janitor,  in 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS,        457 

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-comer  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 
l^al  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 
b  coupled  with  such  significant  shruggings  of  shoulders,  such  dark  hints  of 
past  misdeeds,  and  such  dreadful  suggestions  of  future  [>eril,  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  od 
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  hosHs  kumani  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,  b^ 
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  conder^  rales  as  autocratically  orer  hb  kny- 
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  Ceiheras  is- 
habited  a  hole  in  the  wall,  as  it  were ;  mended  old  boots  and  pieoed  ancient  garments,  while  Ui 
spouse  did  odd  jobs  for  tenants,  and  his  olive-branches  went  of  errands.  While  all  the  nst  of 
iParis  tends  toward  democratization,  the  conciei|;e  goes  in  for  "  aristocratization."  Like  all  fimc- 
tionaries,  he  has  a  supreme  contempt  for  the  public  He  considers  the  tenants  of  the  dweffiq; 
which  he  "  manages  "  as  his  subordinates,  and  you  need  no  more  expect  civility  from  him  than  fn 
can  from  a  hotel  clerk,  or  the  conductor  of  an  omtf  bus,  or  a  railway  oflkial,  or  an  employ  at  dv 
Paris  Post  Office.  Nothing  can  convince  him  that  he  is  not  the  absolute  master  of  emr 
lodger.  I  represent,  he  says,  the  landlord,  and  as  such  have  full  authority  to  let  the  premiMS, 
to  raise  the  rent,  and  to  give  warning.  It  is  he  who  elaborates  the  "  rules  of  the  house,"  sad  it 
is  he  who  has  invented  the  interdiction  of  dogs,  children,  and  canary  birds,  an  intewficrice 
which  is  only  revocable  at  his  good  pleasure.  And  try  to  be  on  good  terms  with  him,  for  he  his 
at  his  disposal  ways  and  means  by  which,  if  your  enUnU  be  not  cordiaU^  your  life  will  beeeaae 
a  burden.  He  will  keep  the  door  unopened  for  you  on  a  rainy  day,  he  will  invariably  tdl  |«wr 
friends  that  you  are  not  at  home,  he  will  shake  his  carpet  over  your  head  as  you  descend  the 
staircase,  and  inflict  upon  you  a  thousand  petty  annoyances  against  which  you  have  no  redzea, 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.       459 

r,  to  confoiind  with  them  the  janitor  of  the  University  Bnilding;  and  my 
qvotmtion  concerning  the  insolence  and  tyranny  which  mn»t  be  submitted  to 
at  tlie  bands  of  the  others  is  chiefly  designed  to  point  by  contrast  his  own 
TelatiTe  politeness^and  powerlessness.    Though  I  have  hinted  on  a  previous 
pa^e   that  he  may  not  always  rise  entirely  superior  to  the  distinguishing  trait 
o€  liis  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  worlds  in  whom  the 
iBual  strictly  sordid  and  mercenary  motives  are  sometimes  supplanted  by 
senttmental  considerations  as  a  basis  for  conduct.    The  janitor  takes  a  per- 
soiiad  pride  in  the  place,  not  merely  because  he  has  for  fifteen  years  person- 
ally helped  maintidn  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,  omne 
t^^HCtmn  pro  magmjic^,  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 
•ay,  **  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  oi  Richelieu,  his 
policy  might  perhaps  thus  be  fairly  formulated : 

"  First,  employ  all  means  to  crasfa  r "  "  Failing  these  ?  "  '*  All  methods  to  conciliate  t  *' 
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  "  purely  an  accident  independent  of  his  will." 
TVde,  you  can  retaliate,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  you  ¥r{ll  come  off  first  best.  And  it  is  not  the 
eoadeffe*s  ability  to  cause  petty  annoyances  wtncb  constitotes  his  importance.  In  his  hands  he 
holds  your  credit,  your  reputation,  your  fortune,  and  your  honor.  Should  yon  undertake  any 
business  enterprise  it  is  of  the  concierge  that  is  asked  information  of  your  standing ;  should 
you  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  concierge  to  whom  will  be  put  the 
question  of  your  solvency.  Everything  depends  upon  your  relations  with  this  autocrat,  who  will 
give  a  certificate  for  the  Prix  Montyon  to  the  bladcest  of  seoondrels,  or  ruin  the  standing  of  an 
honest  man,  according  to  the  degree  of  generosity  of  the  individual.  Last  week,  a  condeq^ 
was  sentenced  lo  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  plaintiffs  character 
was  torn  to  shreds  by  the  defendant's  counsel ;  and  so  people  go  on  and  let  themselves  be  bled 
ind  blackmailed.— Bkrif  correspondence  (Sept.  25)  of  the  Ntw  Y^rk  Titmt,  On.  is,  1884,  p.  5. 


46o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tesdmonisd  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  imfreqoently 
figures  at  their  autumn  *'  campaign  rallies "  in  the  thickly-settled  r^ioo 
below  the  Square.  I  believe  this  is  the  only  vanity  he  ever  indulges  in  oat- 
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  Parisiaa 
concierge,  who  suppresses  all  political  circulars  and  newspapers  which  he 
does  not  wish  his  tenants  to  read,  and  who  takes  care  to  keep  them  fully  sap- 
plied  with  the  literature  of  his  own  party.  Dwellers  in  the  University,  oo 
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  ofiice. 

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,  iif  the  improbable 
case  of  both  its  stairways  burning  simultaneously  at  the  bottom,  with  sacb 
suddenness  as  to  forbid  descent,  he  could  still  ascend  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  th9ught  fit  to  live  in. 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOUS.       461 

I  myself  would  not  sleep  In  one  of  them  for  a  single  night  without  a  fire- 
escape  by  my  bedside  (I  keep  one,  in  fact,  even  in  my  own  much  safer  cham- 
t>ers) ;  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 
'vrell  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 
tbose  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  is  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  called  executive  ability— the  Chancellor  of  the  University  is 
excused  from  all  attention  to  its  finances.  The  present « incumbent  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  fulfil- 
ment, even  when  he  devotes  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  course,  are  the  legal  managers,  in  whom  all  ulti- 
mate 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 
patting  as  much  as  possible  of  responsibility  for  them  upon  the  shoulders  of 
the  two  senior  professors.  These  in  turn,  being  already  overburdened  with 
their  own  proper  duties  as  instructors,  are  inclined,  when' such  matters  cannot 
easily  be  referred  back  to  the  trustees,  to  leave  them  to  the  janitor ;  who  thus 
becomes,  in  effect,  the  executive  chief  of  the  institution.  A  chronic  want  of 
funds  for  its  proper  maintenance  adds  to  the  interestingness  of  this  curious 
sttuation,  so  far  as  casual  tenants  are  concerned.  If  one  of  these  objects  to  a 
leaky  roof  or  broken  window,  an  overcharge  of  rent  or  inefficient  service,  and 
gets  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  does  n*t 
want  to  be  bored  with  the  case,  and  refers  him  back  to  another  professor,  who 
perhaps  refers  him  to  the  janitor  as  final  authority.  A  great  many  days  hav- 
ing been  wasted  in  getting  the  matter  as  far  along  as  this,  a  great  many  more 
go  by  before  anything  is  done,— even  assuming  that  the  tenant's  prayer  is 
granted.  After  the  average  man  has  been  badgered  for  a  while  in  this  way, — 
bandied  back  and  forth  between  the  representatives  of  a  divided  and  practi- 
cally unapproachable  authority, — ^he  of  course  goes  off  in  despair  to  seek 
some  house  where  less  chaotic  conditions  prevail ;  and  a  new  tenant  follows 
in  his  footsteps  and  in  due  time  undergoes  the  same  exasperations.    If  the 


462         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

new  tenant  chances  to  have  more  philosophy  than  "  the  average  man,'*  hewifl 
learn  to  accept  these  exasperations  as  natural  concomitants  of  an  ezceptioaal 
situation;  he  will  quietly  pay  for  such  *' repairs  and  improveoients "  as  he 
wants ;  he  will  see  that  if  the  whole  establishment  were  to  be  '^  modexiuicd 
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 :  tbeir 
presence  is  essential  'to  his  own  safety  and  happiness,  though  they  ensure  this 
without  personal  contacts*  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  dL  this 
Castle  may  always  feel  reflected  upon  himself  the  (Ugnity  of  its  entire  owner- 
ship.   The  fact  of  such  residence  makes  his  life  a  mystery  to  every  outsidet. 
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  ol  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  rcsi* 
dents ;  no  cohesivenesa  between  the  independent  atoms ;  no  visits  exchaqged 
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  snch 
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  iL    The 
inspiring   fiction  of  **  sole  ownership  by  each "  would  be  sadly  impaired 
if  the  presence  and  partnership  of  the  others  were  formally  recognizedL    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  aloae 
while  within  its  walls.    Were  I  to  be  met  in  a  remote  part  of  the  world  \sf 
some  man  who  had  lived  long  in  the  University,  his  mention  of  that  fact  wooW 
be  the  best  possible  passport  to  my  favor.    I  should  feel  in  advance  that  be 
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,  nnkss 
he  were  fully  competent  to  enjoy  a  lonely  one  in  his  own  wigwam,  he  wookl 
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  m 
other  places  where  individual  resentments  of  slight  injuries  and  shortcomiqgi 
are  combined,  by  conversation  and  interchange  of  experiences,  into  a  geneial 
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  necct* 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.        463 

flarily  has  coocerning  the  possible  "  influence  "  of  any  given  tenant  with  some 
Qttknown  member  of  the  board  of  trustees.  This  fact  that  he  is  employed  by 
d  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 
preaenoe  there  of  any  additional  man  or  woman  qiiite  unnoticeable ;  yet  I 
think  that  a  chance  visitor,  late  in  the  day,  after  the  departure  of  the  studenta 
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  acquain^ 
anceB»  with  whom  I  exchanged  many  calls,  I  am  sure  that  I  never  met  them 
on  the  stairways  a  dosen  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  kim  seven  times,  except  inside 
his  chambers  or  the  editorial  rooms.  Reflecting  upon  these  curious  reversals 
of  probability,  one  might  admost  be  pardoned  for  a  superstitious  belief  in  the 
existence  of  some  subtle  influence  winch  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- 
fc»e  the  faces  of  non-acquaintances  become  familiar  enough  to  impress  them* 
selves  upon  him  as  belonging  to  residents  rather  than  to  the  ever-changing 
mas»  of  visitors.  Of  the  latter,  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 
actvent."  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  tfae  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  ofiice,  he  may  now  wander 
about,  as  in  a  labyrinth,  for  an  indefinite  period,  without  finding  the  person 
i^om  he  is  in  search  of,  or  without  being  confronted  by  any  obtrusive  sign 
whatever.  The  corridors,  I  may  add,  are  lighter  at  night  than  at  any  other 
tine;  for  gas  jets  bum  there  continuously  until  dawn. 


464         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Thoagh  a  master  of  the  Castle  soon  grows  familiar,  in  these  seven] 
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  Irv- 
ing in  New  York  and  its  environs  "  (1879),  I  had  occasion  to  unearth  h» 
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  aijx)ut  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  attuned  distinctioo  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  <ihe  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  1853  Iw 
joined  a  class  of  young  fellows  from  whom  have  since  been  elected  a  President 
of  the  United  States,  a  Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  (the  officer  of  greab 
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  su- 
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  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS,        465 

officer.  When  the  fonner  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 
oi  "  Pinafore "  were  being  simultaneously  chanted  in  a  continuous  chorus 
wluch  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 
naeans  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- 
Tate,  subjective  sensation,  in  each  of  these  cases,  which  appeals  to  me  as 
exceptionably  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 !  " 
"  'Tifl  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  tlie  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.  22,  1881),  Lieutenant  Com-  • 
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  bouse  that  fronts  upon  Washington  Square. 
90 


466  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  college  in  respect  to  the  number  of  graduates  who  have  sought  to  realise 
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  religious  exercises  "  which  are  raging  on  all  sides  of  me, 
and  which  others  are  compelled  to  Uke  part  in  while  I  myself  escape  snch 
thralldom.  The  dim  strains  from  the  chapel  organ  add  to  my  tranquillity  bjr 
reminding  me  that  no  Faculty  any  longer  have  power  to  haul  me  from  bed, 
by  that  signal,  to  an  unwilling  and  unbreakfasted  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  dajs. 
"  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  curls  were  on  my  brow, 
I  did,  O  ye  undergraduates,  much  as  ye  are  doing  now  I '  ** 

"  Anything  for  a  quiet  life  "  is  a  rendering  I  Uke  to  make  of  Algernon 
Sidney*s  famous  phrase,  '*  Erne  petit  phcidam  sub  libertaU  quUtem^  whidi 
winds  its  Latin  length  around  the  historic  Indian  on  the  coat-of-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  hail- 
way,  "  He  '11  fight  to  the  last  gasp,  if  need  be,  but  he  wr//  have  peace."  The 
unique  advantage  of  Castle  Solitude  seems  to  me  to  be  this  :  that  peace  may 
here  be  had  for  the  least  possible  amouift  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 


*Sucfa  a  tendency  has  even  gained  recognition  in  current  fiction,  as  shown  by  this  cxtnct 
from  a  Yale  professor's  tale,  contrasting  the  expectations  of  certain  imaginary  classmates,  oa 
graduation  night,  with  the  stories  of  their  actual  lives,  as  reported  twenty  years  later :  "  Am* 
strong  and  you  have  changed  places  in  one  respect,  I  should  think,"  said  I.  "  He  is  keepiof 
a  boarding-house  somewhere  in  Connecticut.  And  instead  of  leading  a  Tulkii^bonty  eidat* 
exce  in  the  New  York  University  Building,  as  he  firmly  intended,  he  has  manried  and  pRV 
duced  a  numerous  offspring,  I  hear."—"  Split  Zephyr  :  an  Attenuated  Yam  Spun  by  the  Fates," 
^  by  Henry  A.  Beers,  p.  79  (Scribners'  Stories  by  American  Authors,  Vol.  viii.,  1884,  pp.  206). 
The  allusion,  of  course,  is  to  one  of  the  characters  who  plays  so  prominent  a  part  in  "  Blesk 
House,"  and  who  is  described  in  the  index  to  Charles  Dickens's  works,  as  foOows :  "  Mr. 
Tulkioghom,  an  old-fashioned  old  gentleman,  legal  adviser  of  the  Dediocks;  '  an  oyster  of  the 
old  school,  whom  nobody  can  open.'  " 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS.       467 

thin^  which  cannot  elsewhere  be  had  except  amid  the  discomforts  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  by  far  the  finest  enjoyment  that  existence  has  to  offer, — so  do  I 
value  this  curious  Castle  where  I  can  assert  my  own  nature  without  putting 
myself  off  from  the  presence  of  the  people  whom  I  like,  and  can  lead  my  own 
life  without  arousing  the  resentment  of  the  people  whom  I  regard  with  indif- 
ference.    "  The  condition  in  which  a  man  does  not  pay  formal  calls,  and  is  not 
invited  to  state  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 
Social  relationships  of  a  formal  and  permanent  sort  which  would  subject  him 
to  the  inflexible  conventions  of  "  good  society."    In  other  words,  the  solitude 
of  the  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 : 
The  solitude  which  is  really  injurious  is  the  severance  from  all  who  are  capable  of  under- 
standing US.    The  most  favorable  life  would  have  its  times  of  open  and  equal  intercourse  with  the 
beat  minds,  and  also  its  periods  of  retreat.     My  ideal  would  be  a  house  in  London,  not  far  from 
OD«  or  two  houses  which  are  so  full  of  light  and  warmth  that  it  is  a  liberal  ^ucation  to  have 
entered  them,  and  a  solitary  tower  on  some  island  of  the  Hebrides,  with  no  companions  but  the 
sea-gulls  and  the  thundering  surges  of  the  Atlantic    One  such  island  I  know  well,  and  it  is  before 
my  mind*s  eye,  cleau-  as  a  picture,  whilst  I  am  writing.     It  was  a  dream  of  my  youth  to  build  a 
tower  there,  with  three  or  four  little  rooms  in  it,  and  walls  as  strong  as  a  lighthouse.    There  have 
been  more  foolish  dreams,  and  there  have  been  less  competent  teachers  than  the  tempests  that 
would  have  roused  me  and  the  calms  that  would  have  brought  me  peace. 

It  is  a  traditional  habit  of  mankind  to  see  only  the  disadvantages  of  solitude,  without  con- 
ndering  its  compensations ;  but  there  are  great  compensations,  some  of  the  greatest  being  nega- 
tive. The  lonely  man  is  l<Mt]  of  his  own  hours  and  of  his  own  purse ;  his  days  are  long  and 
unbroken ;  he  escapes  from  every  form  of  ostentation,  and  may  live  quite  simply  and  sincerely 
in  great  cahn  breadths  of  leisure.  I  knew  one  who  passed  his  summers  in  the  heart  of  a  vast  for- 
est, m  a  common  thatched  cottage  with  furniture  of  common  deal,  and  for  this  retreat  he  quitted 
vety  gladly  a  ridi  fine  house  in  the  city.  He  wore  nothing  but  old  clothes,  read  only  a  few  old 
bodes,  without  the  least  regard  to  the  opinions  of  the  learned,  and  did  not  take  in  a  newspaper. 
Though  he  cherished  a  few  tried  friendships  and  was  grateful  to  those  who  loved  him  and  could 
enter  into  his  humor,  he  had  acquired  a  horror  of  towns  and  crowds.    This  was  not  from 


468  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

nervonsness,  bat  because  he  felt  impriaoned  and  impeded  in  his  thinking,  wfaidi  needed  the 
depths  of  the  forest,  the  venerable  trees,  the  oommunicadon  with  prinueval  nature,  fram  vlddi 
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 
from  De  Sdnancour  :  '*  In  the  world  a  man  lives  in  his  own  age ;  in  solitude,  in  all  the  a 

He  who  has  lived  for  some  great  qace  of  existence  apart  from  the  tumult  of  the  warid,  to 
discovered  the  vanity  of  those  things  for  which  he  has  no  natural  aptitude  or  gift — their  rrtaiiet 
vanity,  I  mean,  their  uselessness  to  himself,  personally ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  has  leaned 
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  distracting  toils  aad 
pleasures,  to  have  found  out  the  labor  that  he  is  most  fit  for,  and  the  pleasures  that  satialy  fan 
best.  Society  so  encourages  us  in  a£Eectations  that  it  scarcely  leaves  us  a  chance  of  kaowii^  oar 
own  minds ;  but  in  solitude  this  knowledge  comes  of  itself,  and  delivers  us  from  innumcrabk 
vanities.  The  man  of  the  world  does  not  consult  his  own  intellectual  needs,  but  considers  the 
eyes  of  his  visitors ;  the  solitary  student  takes  his  literature  as  a  lonely  traveler  takes  food  wbea 
he  is  hungry,  without  reference  to  the  ordered  courses  of  public  hospitality. 

The  life  of  the  perfect  hermit,  and  that  of  those  persons  who  fed  themselves  nodni^  in- 
dividjially,  and  have  no  existence  but  what  they  receive  from  others,  are  alike  imperfect  Hits. 
Tlie  perfect  life  is  like  that  of  a  ship  of  war,  which  has  its  own  place  in  the  fleet  and  can  share 
ia  its  strength  and  discipline,  but  can  also  go  forth  alone  in  the  solitude  of  the  infinite  sea.  We 
ought  to  belong  to  society,  to  have  our  place  in  it,  and  yet  to  be  capable  of  a  complete  imfividsal 
existence  outside  of  it.  I  value  society  for  the  abundance  of  ideas  which  it  brings  befofe  us,  Ske 
carriages  in  a  frequented  street ;  but  I  value  soUtode  for  sincerity  and  peace,  and  for  the  better 
understanding  of  the  thoughts  that  are  truly  ours.  We  need  society  and  we  need  solitude  abe, 
as  we  need  summer  and  winter,  day  and  night,  exercise  and  rest.  Society  is  necessary  to  give 
us  our  share  and  place  in  the  collective  life  of  humanity ;  but  solitude  is  necessary  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  individual  life. — "  The  Intellectual  Life,"  by  P.  G.  Hamerlon,  pp.  sja-sjj, 
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  insu£ficient  imitation  of  it  was  intolerable  to  him.  It  is  in  this  as  in 
other  pleasures,  the  better  we  appreciate  the  real  thing,  the  less  we  are  disposed  to  accept  ike 
spurious  copy  as  a  substitute.  By  far  the  greater  part  of  what  passes  for  human  interoiurse  b 
not  intercourse  at  all,  but  only  acting,  of  which  the  highest  object  and  most  considerable  merit  is 
to  conceal  the  weariness  that  accompanies  its  hollo  n  observances.  Steady  workers  do  not  need 
much  company.  To  be  occupied  with  a  task  that  is  dtflficult  and  arduous  but  that  we  know  to  be 
within  our  power^  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  «ho 
has  the  gift  of  throwing  himself  heartily  into  his  work.  This  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  Coroo  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.  Wlot 
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,  as  a 
traveler  changes  his  train.  They  take  their  religion,  their  politics,  their  education,  their  sods! 
and  literary  opinions,  all  as  provided  by  the  brains  of  others.  For  those  who  are  satisfied  widi 
easy,  conventional  wajrs,  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,  whea 
you  may  sit  so  very  comfortably  in  the  train,  a  rug  round  your  laxy  legs,  and  your  softly  capped 
head  in  a  corner?  Independence  and  originality  are  so  little  esteemed  in  what  is  called  "good 
society  "  in  France,  that  the  adjectives  "  tndkpendant "  and  "  ori^nal**  are  constantly  used  ia  a 
bad  sense.    The  French  ideal  of  "  good  form  "  is  to  be  one  of  the  small  crowd  of  ridi  and  iaA- 


CASTLE  SOUTUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS,        469 

ionablc  people,  imdudDguisluibfe  from  the  ocheit.  Boh«iiuan»m  and  Philiatiaiun  «re  the  terms 
by  which,  lor  want  of  better,  we  designate  two  opposite  ways  of  estimatiog  wealth  and  culture. 
The  BolMOiiaa  is  the  man  who  with  smaJl  means  desires  and  contrives  to  obtain  the  intellectual 
advanti^es  ol  wealth,  which  he  considers  to  be  leisure  to  think  and  read,  travel,  and  intelligent 
ooQTenacion.  The  Philistine  is  the  Boan  who,  whether  his  means  are  tmall  or  large,  devotes 
Unaelf  wholly  to  the  attainment  of  the  material  advantages  of  wealth,>-a  large  house,  good  food 
and  wine,  dothes,  hoises  and  servants.  The  Bohemian  makes  the  btti  advantages  his  first  aim, 
being  contented  with  such  a  small  measure  of  riches  as,  when  ingeniously  and  skilfully  em- 
ployed, may  secure  them ;  and  the  art  and  craft  of  Bohrmianimi  is  to  get  for  that  small  amount 
<tf  money  such  an  amount  of  leisure,  reading,  travel  and  good  conversation  as  may  suffice  to 
make  life  interesting.  Its  ascetidsm,  on  the  physical  side,  is  not  a  severe  religious  asceticism,  but 
a  disposition,  like  that  of  a  thorough  soUier  or  traveler,  to  do  without  luxury  and  comfort,  and 
take  the  absence  of  them  gayly  when  they  are  not  to  be  had.  Indeed,  there  may  be  some  con- 
nection betweeu  Bohemianism  and  the  life  of  the  red  Indian  who  roams  in  his  woods  and  oontenta 
himself  with  a  k>w  standard  of  physical  well  being.  I  sometimes  wonder,  as  regards  a  certain 
knred  and  respected  Philistine  friend  of  mine,  if  it  ever  occurred  to  him  to  reflect,  in  the  tedious 
boum  off  too  tranquil  age,  how  much  of  what  is  best  in  the  world  had  been  simply  MSMw^by  him ; 
how  he  had  misswd  all  the  variety  and  interest  of  travel,  the  charm  of  intellectual  society,  the  in- 
fjnmcra  of  genius,  and  even  the  (riiysical  excitements  of  healthy  outdoor  amusements.  A  true 
Bohemian  knows  the  value  of  mere  shelter,  of  food  enough  to  satisfy  hunger,  of  plain  clothes 
that  will  keep  him  sufficiently  warm }  and  in  the  things  of  the  mind  he  values  the  liberty  to  use 
his  own  faculties  as  a  kind  of  happiness  in  itself.  His  philosq[>hy  leads  him  to  take  an  interest 
in  talking  with  human  beings  of  all  sorts  and  conditioas,  and  in  different  countries.  He  does 
i|ot  deepisr  the  poor,  for,  whether  rich  or  poor  in  his  own  person,  he  understands  simplicity  of 
life ;  and,  if  the  poor  man  lives  in  a  small  cottage,  he  too  has  probably  been  lodged  less  spa- 
ciously stOI,  in  some  small  hut  or  tent  He  has  lived  often,  in  rcN^  travel,  as  the  poor  live 
every  day.  I  maintain  that  such  tastes  and  esqierienoes  are  valuable  both  in  pro^)erity  and  in 
adversity.—"  Human  Intercourse,"  by  P.  G.  Hamerton,  pp.  47,  27,  ji,  15,  398,  314,  with  sen- 
tences m-ananged  (Boston  :  Roberts  Bros.,  1884,  pp.  430^ 

As  more  than  four  hundred  British  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  that  the  apartments 
inhibited  by  me  were  constructed  in  1875  in  a  P^rt  of  the  space  that  formed 
the  chapel  of  the  University  at  the  time  when  the  royal  Oxford  collegian, 
Albert  Edward,  was  forced  to  do  penance  there,  a  quarter-century  ago.  The 
following  report  of  the  ceremonial  was  published  soon  afterwards  in  the  stu- 
dents' Quarterly  Magazine^  and  was  reprinted  as  a  curiosity  in  its  issue  of 
October,  1878,  from  which  I  now  quote  it  The  story  has  an  independent 
interest  to  home  readers,  as  throwing  a  strong  side-light  on  the  simplicity  of 
social  manners  and  customs  in  that  remote  era  "  before  the  war.''  Except 
the  cemetery  at  Greenwood,  and  the  prisons  on  BlackwcU's  Island,  it  seems 
that  the  chapel  of  the  University  was  the  only  show-place  the  city  then  had 
for  the  entertainment  of  distinguished  visitors  whom  it  was  desirable  to  im- 
press with  an  idea  of  the  grandeur  and  superiority  of  things  metropolitan  : 

When  the  royal  visitor  arrived  in  New  York  he  was  immediately  besieged  with  numberless 
invitations  to  visit  our  public  institutions.    But  few  of  these,  of  course,  could  be  honored  with  a 


470 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


second  thought,  owing  to  want  of  time ;  but  that  of  Chancellor  Ferris  was  promptly  a 
and  the  honor  of  his  first  visit  in  this  city  was  awarded  to  our  University.  As  soon  as  tke 
Prince  had  signified  his  acceptance,  a  plan  of  reception  was  adopted,  and  Profeaaor  Wedfvaod. 
then  at  the  head  of  the  Law  Faculty,  appointed  to  carry  it  into  effect,  assisted  by  the  iliiilniii 
in  the  collegiate  department.  The  visit  was  to  take  place  on  Friday,  October  la,  i860,  at  ka!!- 
past  ten  a.  m.,  and  the  Prince  was  to  be  received  in  the  large  chapel.  This  chapel,  rai^ 
through  three  stories  of  the  buflding,  had  a  capacity  for  onnfartably  seating  twelve  handnd  pes^ 
sons,  and  its  rich  ornamentation  and  beautiful  windows  gave  it  a- very  venerable  appeaxaaoe, 
quite  in  contrast  to  the  small  chapel  in  which  we  now  worship  every  morning.  Invitatioiis  were 
issued  to  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  professors  and  members  of  the  coancil,  and  to  ike 
mothers,  sisters  and  "  lady  friends  "  of  the  students,  and  a  stage  was  erected  sofficsently  brse 
to  accommodate  the  Prince  and  his  suite,  the  officers  of  the  Univemty,  and  other  invited  gneaa. 

On  the  morning  of  the  appointed  day,  long  before  the  arrival  of  the  Prince,  the  chapel  ww 
densely  filled  with  as  brilliant  and  fascinating  an  audience  as  ever  assembled  withia  its  waBs. 
The  council,  professors,  and  judges  of  the  courts  assembled  in  the  Chanodlor's  room ;  wlale  the 
students,  arrajred  in  their  college  gowns,  and  wearing  the  insignia  of  their  various  societies,  woe 
arranged  in  double  coliunns  from  the  sidewalk  along  the  various  halls  through  whidi  die  Priacc 
was  to  pass  in  his  visit  to  the  several  departments  of  the  University.  The  Prince  and  hk  aoiie 
left  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  at  half-past  ten  o'clock  and  drove  rapidly  dowd  Fifth  Aveoae  Id 
Washington  Square,  where  a  fine  view  of  the  University  Building  at  the  head  of  the  Square  fos 
presented  to  them.  Alighting  at  the  noain  entrance  on  University  Place,  the  Prince  was  act 
by  Prof.  Wedgwood,  and  conducted  up  the  marble  stairway  to  the  main  haO,  where  he  was 
received  by  Chancellor  Ferris  in  his  oflldal  robes.  Arm  in  arm  the  Chancellor  aad  the  Fng^ii^ 
student  proceeded  to  the  large  chapel,  followed  by  Lord  Lyons,  the  Duke  of  Newcartle,  Eari 
St.  Germains,  General  Bruoe,  the  Britisli  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  \n\\\\  ■kwi 
passed  along  through  the  lines  of  students  to  the  chapel,  the  Prince  was  greeted  with  the  «• 
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  wavii^  of 
handkerchiefs  and  half-suppressed  words  of  welcome.  The  procession,  led  by  the  vencnbie 
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  cooncfl, 
professors  and  invited  guests  occupied  the  other  side.  A  short  consultation  was  then  held,  si 
the  termination  of  which  a  signal  was  given,  the  music  ceased,  and  the  audience  was  hashed  to 
profound  silence,  while  the  Chancellor  pronounced  an  address  of  welcome.  The  Arinoe,  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle  and  Lord  Lyons  had  each  expressed  a  wish  to  meet  on  the  orcasion  of  their 
visit  three  of  the  professors,  who  were  personally  known  to  them,  and  who  had  attained  a  J^mo- 
pean  celebrity — Prof.  Valentine  Mott,  at  that  time  acknowledged  to  be  the  first  soigeon  in  Amer* 
ica ;  Prof.  John  W.  Draper,  who  first  applied  photography  to  the  taking  of  portraits  from  li£e,  and 
in  his  room  in  the  University  Building  made  the  first  picture  of  the  human  fiice  by  the  fight  of  the 
sun ;  and  Prof.  Samuel  F.  B.  Morse,  who  invented  the  electro-magnetic  telegraph,  and  i 
his  first  successful  experiment  within  the  walls  of  N.  Y.  U.  Accordingly  they  were  1 
daily  introduced,  and  Prof.  Morse  expressed  his  most  hearty  thanks  for  the  kind  ; 
shown  him  by  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  on  his  first  visit  to  London  with  his  infant  telegraph. 

A  neatly  engrossed  copy  of  the  Chancellor's  address,  with  the  resolutions  preTiueriy 
adopted  by  the  coundl,  was  then  presented  to  the  Prince,  who  received  the  same  and  made  as 
appropriate  reply.  The  Chancellor  then  presented  to  the  Prince  the  members  of  the  cooacS, 
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,  ami  then,  taking  the  arm  of 
the  Chancellor,  he  left  the  chapel  and  passed  into  the  law  library  and  lecture-room.  Here  he 
noticed  a  large  number  of  valuable  books  presented  to  the  University  by  King  William  IV.  sad 
Her  Majesty  Queen  Victoria,  among  which  are  the  entire  publications  of  the  Reooed 
sioners.     Mr.  John  Taylor  Johnston's  gift,  a  complete  modem  law  library,  Sfrmrd  to  1 


CASTLE  SOLITUDE  IN  THE  METROPOLIS. 


47  « 


e<f»ecial  attention.  From  the  law  library  the  Prince  was  conducted  to  the  council  chamber^  and 
thexkoe  to  the  marble  stairway,  where  the  Chancellor  took  leave  of  his  royal  guest.  As  the 
Prince  and  his  suite  entered  their  carriages,  the  students  formed  in  front,  and,  joined  by  thou- 
wimIb  of  spectators  there  assembled,  gave  three  times  three  hearty  cheers  for  the  Oxford  student 

Five  days  later,  when  the  train  which  carried  the  Prince  ffom  Albany  to 
Soston  passed  through  Springfield,  and  that  much-«dmired  youth,  standing 
on  the  rear  platform  thereof,  lifted  his  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 
grained  on  the  wheels  of  his  vehicle, — so  that  we  saw  nothing  but  the  princely 
l&a.t.    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  pity  rather  than  envy.    It  seemed  to  me  that  such  a  boy 
could  have  no  fun.    I  felt  that  I  was  more  fortunate  in  the  possession  of  a 
frolicsome  bull-dog,  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, 
when  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  fhis  most  distinguished  woman  in  the 
world,  the  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  any  longing  for  that  unattainable  sort  of  castle, 
whose  impossible  solitude  and  privacy  would  make  it  truly  her  own. 

After  all,  however,  the  founders  of  the  University,  a  half-century  ago, 
builded  better  than  they  knew  ;  and  their  successors  of  a  quarter-century  ago 
acted  wiser  than  they  knew  when  they  dragged  in  the  Prince  to  admire  it. 
The  founders  failed  in  their  ostensible  object,  because  the  stars  in  their 
courses  fought  against  it  as  impracticable ;  but  their  very  failure  was  a  part 
and  parcel  of  a  unique  achievement,  which,  while  I  live,  shall  at  least  in  one 
heart  keep  their  memory  green.  All  unwittingly,  they  were  the  instruments 
for  accomplishing  what  no  one  else  has  ever  done,— what  no  mortal  men  could 
conceivably  by  design  and  premeditation  ever  have  power  to  do.  If  •*  the  no- 
blest study  of  mankind  is  man,"  this  temple  of  learning  which  they  built  offers 
unexampled  advantages  for  studying  him  most  nobly.  From  its  towers,  who- 
ever possesses  "  the  vision  and  the  faculty  divine  "  may  clearly  overlook  the 


47a  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  sore 
that  I  rightly  use  the  superlative  when  I  characterize  it  on  my  letter-heads 
by  adapting  these  lines  from  Calverley : 

"  *  Nulla  mm  danamda  hmru '  is  that  Building  :  you  could  oot — 
Placing  New  York's  map  before  you— light  on  half  so  queer  a  q;)ot." 

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 
baltn  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  \    Old  Time  is  still  a-tfying ; 
And  this  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day,  to-morrow  will  be  dying. 
The  glorious  lamp  of  heaven,  the  sun,  the  higher  he 's  a-gettxng« 
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  wanner; 
But,  being  spent,  the  worse  and  worst  times  shall  succeed  the  former. 
So,  be  not  coy,  but  use  your  time,  and  while  ye  may,  go  marry, 
Lest,  having  lost  but  once  your  prime,  you  may  forever  tarry." 


XXX. 

LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS. 

Confirmation  has  already  been  given — ^iit  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 
repK>rts  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. 


I  Steyens  (b.  Dec  24,  1854)  rightly  holds  the  place  of  honor  on  this  record.  He  has 
ahcady  made  a  straightaway  Incyde  trail  of  8000  m., — an  incomparably  longer  and  more  difficult 
one  than  any  previously  in  existence^-~and  he  will  extend  it  during  1886,  until  it  completely  en- 
diclea  the  globe,  unless  he  gets  killed  on  the  way.  Leaving  the  Pacific  ocean  at  San  Frandaco, 
April  aa,  18841  ^  pudied  the  bicyde  3700  m.  before  reaching  the  Atlantic  at  Boston,  August  4 ; 
and  lesuming  his  trail,  on  the  other  side,  at  Liverpoolj  May  a,  1885,  he  extended  it  4300  m.  to 
Teheraa,  the  capital  of  I^isia,  September  30,  where  he  halted  again  for  the  winter,  to  prepare 
faionelf  for  the  third  and  most  desperate  stage  of  his  dangerous  round-the-world  adventure.  A 
native  of  Great  Berkhamsted,  Hertfordshire,  England,  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  this  period  was  given  to  forming  and  ranching  in  Missoxni  and  Wyoming  (his  parents  still 
carry  on  a  farm  near  Kansas  City) ;  but  for  two  years  he  was  employed  in  the  rollmg  mills  of 
the  Unioa  Pacific  r.  r.,  at  Laramie  Qty,  and  he  also  engaged  somewhat  in  out^loor  **  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  '*  seeing  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  decision  to  attempt  the  ride  from  ocean  to 
ocean,  in  the  belief  that  the  incidents  of  so  novel  a  journey  might  be  formulated  into  an  attract- 
ive book,  wfaoee  publisher  would  supply  funds  for  continuing  the  trail  across  Eurc^  to  Con- 


474  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

stantinople,  and  peiiiaps  ultimatelj  acroas  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'  {nractice  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  ooatxnnaaoe 
of  the  enterprise ;  and  a  cerUin  New  York  sporting  publisher,  who  had  been  Taguelj  kept  is 
mind  as  a  possible  patron  of  it,  was  found  not  to  be  the  man  whom  such  a  scheme  could  depewi 
upon  for  trustworthy  support.  So  Stevens  set  about  making  his  first  serious  e£fon  with  die 
pen ;  and,  in  the  course  of  six  or  seven  weeks,  produced  a  narrative  of  some  38,000  words, 
which,  by  my  advice,  he  soki  to  Outing,  in  whose  columns  it  finally  appeared  (April,  May,  June 
and  July,  1885,  pp.  4»-5a,  X64-177.  a9o-3o»»  4x0-422),  with  16  illustrations  by  W.  A.  Rqgen. 
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-continent  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  magaiine,  having  been  impressed  by  the  vabe 
of  his  Outing  articles,  and  the  genuineness  of  his  ambition  to  really  push  a  bicycle  raund  the 
world,  invited  him  up  to  Boston,  and  commissioned  him  as  a  regular  couespondest  to  compirir 
the  journey.  Like  all  such  correspondents,  he  is  presumably  allowed  his  expenses  and  a  certaia 
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  fornu  Those  which  have 
appeared  in  the  successive  issues  of  Outing,  as  I  write  these  words,  are  designated  as  foQovs : 
"  From  America  to  the  German  Frontier"  (Oct.,  pp.  35-5o)f  ''Germany,  Austria  and  Has- 
gary"  (Nov.,  pp.  183-198),  "Through  Slavonia  and  Servia"  (Dec,  pp.  386-303),  "Rou- 
melia,  and  into  Turkey"  (Jan.,  pp.  379-395).  "Through  European  Turkey"  is  aanounoed 
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  Fru- 
dsoo,  and  then  re-write  his  entire  experiences  to  form  a  large  volume  ("Around  Che  Worid  on  a 
Bicycle,"  illustrated  by  all  the  pictures  in  the  Outing  series  and  many  new  ones),  £or  pubfica- 
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  iacU  about  roads  and  dis- 
Unces,  for  the  special  benefit  of  cyclers  who  may  wish  to  traverse  the  paths  I  have  explored,  be 
addresses  himself  to  the  task  of  pleasing  the  stay-at-home  public  in  general,  by  ezhibating  to 
them  simply  the  salient  points  of  his  experience,  without  reference  to  its  routine  dmdsery  and 
common-place  details.  I  think  he  must  succeed  in  this,  for  his  gifts  as  a  descriptive  writer  axe 
considerable,  and  he  evidenUy  has  the  knack  of  telling  a  story  in  a  way  to  make  it  intenstaq; 
without  much  waste  of  words.  Considering  that  such  school  days  as  he  enjoyed  were  ended  at 
18,  and  that  his  only  previous  efforts  with  the  pen  were  desultory  paragraphs  in  a  T^ram|*>  news* 
paper,  the  mere  literary  shortcomings  of  his  magazine  pieces  are  surprisingly  few  and  unimpor- 
tant. Indeed,  I  believe  that  a  simple  reprint  of  this  Outing  aeries,  "  From  San  FranciscD 
to  Teheran,"  would  make  a  more  readable  book  than  any  existing  specimen  of  cyding  litera- 
ture; and  I  predict  for  "  Around  the  World  on  a  Bicycle,"  if  he  completes  it,  a  very  extended 
sale.  As  be  lias  littie  liking  for  statistics,  he  prints  few  facts  about  himself  or  his  equipment,  eir 
cept  incidentally ;  and  roost  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  during  his  ej^ 
months'  stay  in  N.  Y.  On  the  first  forenoon  of  his  arrival  here  (Aug.  15,  '84)  he  accqrted  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  interesting  staitis> 
tics  into  his  reporU."    A  fairiy-good  full-length  portrait  of  Stevens,  in  riding  ^-^^^h^i^  standii« 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS. 


475 


beside  his  bicyde,  occupied  a  qiurteri»ge  of  Harper's  Weekfy  {Kq%.  30,  '84,  "  from  a  photo- 
graph by  Flaglor "),  and  was  acoompaoied  by  aa  lines  of  biography.  A  rather  better  picture, 
also  full  length,  was  the  lithogiaph  which  the  IVhtti  If^^nA/ (London,  June,  '85)  included  in  its 
"  gallery  of  cycling  celebrities,*'  with  a  two-page  descriptive  sketch.  A  fac-simile  of  his  auto- 
graph was  appended  to  this,  and  also  to  Outings  v^ette  (Oct.,  '85,  p.  34,  from  an  English 
photograph),  which  is  the  roost  truthful  likeness  of  the  three. 

The  distance  by  rail  from  San  Fnmdsco  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  had  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. ;  then%e  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  ^  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  tnul  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  s  barrow  than 
a  bicyde.  Such  propulsion  would  require  more  time,  but  would  involve  less  hardship,  for 
enoo^  food  and  blankets  to  make  the  tonrkt  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  regsuned  it  before  the  end  of  his 
journey.  One  who  saw  him  in  the  city  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  vreather-stained.  His  knickerbockera  had  given  way  to  a  pair  of  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.,  Rawlins  to 
Kearney  Junction,  where  he  was  oveitaken  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  iddes  and  melting 
snow  during  his  40  m.  tramp  through  the  r.  r.  snow-sheds ;  but  he  had  no  coat  at  all,  from  ocean 
to  ocean.  "  Coats  are  not  in  st^  among  the  Wyoming  cow-boys,**  he  told  me.  From  Ft  Sidney, 
100  m.  e.  of  Cheyenne,  "  by  the  courte^  of  the  tomroanding  officer,  he  was  enabled  to  journey 
eastward  under  the  grateful  shade  of  a  military  summer  helmet,  in  lieu  of  the  eemi-eombrero 
slouch  that  had  lasted  through  from  San  Frandaoo  *' ;  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  bicyde  itself,  he  certified  to  its  makers  that  it  stood  the  strain  with- 
out break  or  any  excessive  wear,  though  he  '*  took  uncounted  headers."  I  now  offer  his  story, 
in  the  first  person  and  present  tense,  as  if  I  were  quoting  an  abstract  which  he  had  prepared  for 
me  from  his  OtUmg  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-houses,  in  charge  of  a 
sccdoit-boss  and  five  or  six  Chinese  bborers  *,  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  nnce  '57  preceded  my  start  hxmi  Oakland  pier 
(Tuesday,  April  aa,  '84,  at  8.a8  a.  m.),  but  level  and  good  riding  brought  me  to  San  Pablo,  16 
m.,  in  1^  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'dock,  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. 

3a  m.  beymd  S.  P.  The  teoond  ni^t  is  at  Elmira,  after  13  m.  proyem  in  the  rain,  and  the 
third  at  Sacramento,  30  m.,  whereof  6  m.  had  to  be  walked,  '  bump,  bump,  bump,'  on  the  tics  of 
the  r.  r.  trestle,  because  of  the  river's  overflow.  This  weary  task  takes  4  h.,  and  when  a  tnb 
comes  along,  I  squat  on  the  end  of  a  projecting  cross-beam,  and  let  the  biqrde  hang  over.  An- 
other high  trestle-bridge  has  to  be  crossed  3^  m.  e.  of  S.  (whence  a  fine  view  of  the  snow-capped 
Sierras),  and  then  I  enjoy  a  10  m.  ride  through  a  park4ike  dieep^nnch  of  60,000  acres,  bK 
have  to  pay  for  it  by  tramping  across-lots  through  numberiess  gates  and  small  ranches  to  reach 
the  main  road  again.  Rocklin  (113)  is  fairly  in  ihe  foot-hill  country,  many  of  whose  raads  are 
of  an  excellent  hard  and  stony  surface,  proof  against  the  winter  rains.  Newcastle  (ixa)  is  a  sia> 
tion  near  the  old-time  mining  camps  of  Ophir  and  Gold-hill ;  then  come  Auburn  (137),  CS^ipcr 
Gap  (133),  Colfax  (145).  Gold  Run  (155),  Dutch  Flat  (157),  and  Blue  Cafion  (169),  where  I  en- 
MatA  the  gloomy  but  friendly  shelter  of  the  great  protecting  sheds,  which  extend  with  but  lew 
breaks  for  nearly  40  m.  Winding  around  the  modhtain-sides,  their  roofs  are  built  ao  riantiDg 
that  the  mighty  avalanche  of  rock  and  snow  that  comes  thundering  down  from  above  ^kks 
harmlessly  over  into  the  chasm  beyond.  The  stations,  section-houses  and  water-canka  are  aO 
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  10).  As  I  eater  the 
sheds,  gaunt  winter  rules  supreme,  and  the  only  vegetation  is  the  hardy  {xne,  half-bttried  in  the 
snow ;  though  but  four  days  have  gone  since  I  was  in  the  semi-troiMcal  Sacramento  vallsy 
which  is  ridable  in  dry  weather  for  150  m.  Beyond  Rocklin,  I  had  '  footed  it '  for  4  m.  of  ex- 
cellent surface,  owing  to  a  header  which  temporarily  disabled  the  bicycle ;  but  from  NewcaMie 
onwards  no  riding  was  passible  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  mgfat 
at  Summit  (196),  in  the  snow-sheds,  70x7  ft.  above  the  sea  level,  and  the  next  at  Vetili  (134),  is 
Nevada,  4  m.  out  of  California.    The  two  States  have  neither  scenery  nor  climate  in  common. 

"  '  Over  the  Deserts  of  Nevada '  is  the  title  of  my  second  Outing  article.  After  leavii^the 
sheds,  I  had  followed  the  rapid  Truckee  river  down  the  slope  of  the  Sierras,  tfaroug^  its  cafioa, 
without  finding  mudi  good  road  till  I  crossed  into  the  '  Sage-brush  State '  and  approached 
Verdi ;  and  good  road  continued  when  I  started  thence,  on  May  Day  morning,  stiU  foIkMrii^ 
the  Truckee,  so  that  I  roll  into  Reno  (345)  at  10.30  o'clock.  I  am  told  that,  in  '8a,  F.  T.  If  eirfll 
and  a  companion  had  pushed  their  bicydes  to  this  point,— following  the  wagon  road  over  the 
mountains,  as  their  tour  was  made  in  summer  when  progiess  is  possible  outside  the  anowhsheda 
The  mountains  containing  the  Comstock  lodes  are  in  plain  sight  of  Reno  whidi  is  die  poiat 
from  which  those  famous  mining  camps  used  to  be  reached,  and  my  route  leads  through  a  strip 
of  good  agricultural  land,  untU  the  meadows  gradually  contract,  and  I  am  again  foHowii^  the 
Truckee  down  a  narrow  space  between  mountains.  I  sleep  that  night  on  the  floor  of  a  raadh 
man's  shanty,  about  ao  m.  beyond  R.,  having  wheeled  }  the  Stance,  by  short  stretches;  and, 
the  next  forenoon,  at  Wadsworth  (289),  I  bid  adieu  to  the  Truckee,  which  I  have  folkmed 
nearly  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  thoafh 
much  of  the  trail  is  quite  unfit  for  cyding,  there  are  occasional  alkali  flats,  which  I  wheel  swifdy 
across,  whUe  the  blazing  son  casts  my  shadow  on  the  white  surface  with  'startling  vtvidnes. 
From  the  desert,  my  road  leads  up  the  valley  of  the  Humboldt  I  hah  during  Sunday,  May  4, 
at  Lovelocks;  then  by  turns  ride  on  smooth  alkali  and  trundle  through  deep  sand,  past  Rye 
Patch  (373),  Humboldt  O^s),  Mill  City  (396),  to  Winneraucca  (414),  the  county  seat.  havii« 
1200  inhabitants.  I  dimb  the  mountains  ao  m.  e.  of  here,  and  from  the  summit  even  the  itt^- 
gish  Humboldt  looks  beautiful.  Some  splendid  riding  on  the  alkali  is  had  before  reading  Sloee 
House  (454),  where  I  secure  a  supper  but  am  denied  a  lodging;  and  as  the  intense  cold  endsaiy 
slumbere  at  midnight  on  the  phinks  of  an  open  shanty,  I  ride  and  walk  by  moonlight  till  dsy^ 
break  at  Battle  Mountain  (474X  The  valley  broadens  into  a  plain  of  some  sise  15  m.  beyend 
here,  and  as  the  trail  ends  at  a  place  where  the  river  is  less  than  too  ft.  wide,  I  swim  k,— wag 
some  fence-posts  as  a  float  on  which  to  carry  my  dothes  and  the  bicycle.  Before  this,  in  irav- 
ening  the  low  alkali  bottom  through  which  flow  doscna  of  small  streams  to  the  Humboldt,  I  had 


LONG'DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         477 

often  )aiiq>ed  them,  by  using  the  machine  for  a  vaultiog-bar,  or  elae  waded  acroes,  carrying  it  on 
my  shoulder.  Beyond  Beowawe  (507),  I  follow  the  river  through  Humboldt  cafion,  in  prcfer« 
Otoe  10  a  ctrcuitouft  route  over  the  mountains,  reach  Palisade  (525),  at  4  p.  m.  and  Carlin  (534) 
hue  in  the  evening.  Little  riding  is  possible  through  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),  X  am  cheered  by  a  local  Solon,  who  gives  this  bright  summary  of  the  trifling 
geographical  obstacles  ahead  of  me :  '  There  is  only  a  small  rise  at  Sherman,  and  another  still 
smaller  at  the  All^hanics;  all  the  balance  is  down  hill  to  the  Atlantic  Of  course  you'U  have 
to  boat  it  across  the  Fn^  pond.  Then  there's  Europe— mostly  level ;  so's  Asia,  except  the 
Himalayas— and  you  can  soon  cross  *em.  Then  you're  all  hunky,  for  there's  no  mountains  to 
q>eak  of  in  China.'  Passing  Halleck  (582),  near  the  fort  of  that  name,  I  gradually  approach  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  third  Outing 
artide.    The  route  now  leads  along  the  n.  boundary  of  the  Great  American  Desert,  where 
riding  is  occasionally  possible  to  a  man  who  is  disgusted  with  walking,  and  the  dry  saline  air 
arouses  an  almost  unquenchable  thirst.    At  3  p.  m.  I  roll  into  the  small  Mormon  settlement  of 
Terrace  (71 1),  and  spend  the  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,  like  a  motionless 
sea, — and  where  the  section-house  foreman  assures  me  that  a  cycler  could  skim  like  a  bird,  for 
many  miles,  on  the  smooth,  hard,  salt  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  Salt  Lake,  in  whose  cold  waters 
I  am  soon  taking  a  bath.    After  dinner  at  Kelton  (74aX  I  foUow  the  lake  shore  to  the  salt-works 
Dfear  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.  of  mud-flats  stretching  e.  to  the  Mormon  settlements,  which  dot  the  strip  of  fertile 
laind  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  readi 
Corinne  (809)  for  the  nigfat,  but  at  7  o'clock  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  traversing,  and  this  verdant  region  of  prosperous  Mormon  farms, 
with  orehaids  in  full  bloom,  seems  magical.   .Ogden,  with  8000  inhabitants,  is  the  only  laige 
town  I  have  met  since  leaving  Reno  (which  has  about  |  as  many,  and  ranks  second  in  Nevada), 
and  I  halt  diere  during  the  whole  of  Sunday,  May  «8.    Then,  riding  and  walking  alternately, 
la  m.  e..  I  enter  Weber  cafion,  through  which  the  river,  the  r.  r.,  and  an  uncertain  wagon-traU 
make  their  way  throuf(h  the  Wahsatch  mountains  to  the  table-lands  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) 
f«  the  night.    My  last  memory  of  the  cafion  and  of  Utah  is  the  magnificent  CasUe  Rock  (890). 
"  I  entered  Wyoming  at  Evanston  (909),  late  in  the  afternoon  of  May  ai,  and  foUowed  the 
tiafl  down  Yelkm  creek  to  Hilliard  (923)  after  darit.    At  Piedmont  (938),  I  decide  to  go  around 
by  way  ol  Ft.  Bridger  and  strike  the  direct  trail  again  at  Carter  (963)  J  and  the  next  noon  finds 
me  there  in  bed,  after  experiencing  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-wagoa,  on  a  rain-soaked  adobe  plain ;  and  I  then  had  to  carry  the  bicyde 
acroes  6  m.  of  deep,  sticky  clay,  where  trundling  was  quite  impossible.    On  the  a4th,  however, 
I  am  able  to  push  27  m.  through  the  Bad  Lands,  amid  buttes  of  mingled  day  and  rock,  for  din- 
ner at  Granger  (990) ;  and  next  day  I  pass  the  castellated  rocks  at  Green  River  (loao),  and  reach 
Rock  Springs  (1036)  for  the  night.    Splendid  alkali  flats  abound  e.  of  here  and  I  bowl  across 
them  at  a  lively  pace,  until  my  route  turns  up  Bitter  Creek  (1081),  where  the  surface  is  jost  the 
reverse.    Crostmg  the  Red  Desert  (iio4)»  so  called  from  its  surface  of  fire-red  day,  on  which 


478  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

nothing  will  grow,  I  stand  on  the  morning  of  the  28th,  at  10  o'clock,  on  the  '  continenta]  ifivide ' 
(1129),  where,  as  I  face  n.,  all  waters  on  ray  r.  flow  e.  to  the  Atlantic,  and  all  on  my  L  flow  w.  to 
the  Padfic  The  spot  is  a  broad,  low  pass  through  the  Rockies,  more  plain  than  moaDtaia, 
from  which  a  commanding  view  of  many  mountain  chains  may  be  had.  Down-grade  is  ilwa 
the  rule  to  P.awlins  (i  157),  where  I  spend  two  nights  and  a  day.  Hardly  half  of  this  descent  is 
ridable ;  but  on  the  morning  of  the  30th  I  wheel  along  a  very  good  road  16  m.  to  breakfast  at 
Ft.  Steele  (i  17a),  on  the  w.  bank  of  the  North  Platte  river.  Just  before  getting  to  it,  I  ride 
through  the  first  prairie-dog  town  on  my  route,  though  I  meet  plenty  of  others  during  the  next 
300  m.  Elk  mountain,  a  famous  landmark,  now  looms  up,  xo  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  buffalo  grass  is  creeping  everywhere.  I  stay 
over  night  at  Carbon  (12 11)  and,  after  passing  through  the  valley  of  Medicine  Bow  (laaoX  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  eztennve  view  of 
many  mountain  ranges, — the  eastern  one  being  the  Black  Hills,  the  last  chaun  of  the  Rocides, 
and  the  only  barrier  that  separates  me  from  the  broad  prairies  rolling  towards  the  MisBoari. 
After  dinner  at  Rock  Creek  (1242),  I  get  caught  in  a  storm  of  rain  and  hail,  but  I  sptioA.  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  finl 
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  ^fia.  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.  la 
fording  Pole  creek,  holding  bicycle  and  clothes  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  approach  Sidney  (1453),  and  I  sweep  into  town  at  a  good 
pace,-^aking  a  spin  to  the  neighboring  fort  while  I  wait  for  dinner.  I  am  now  approadiingthc 
western  boiler  of  the  farming  country,  and  spend  the  night  at  Lodge  Pole  (1471) ;  bat  to> 
morrow  I  shall  sleep  beside  the  waters  of  the  Platte. 

"  '  From  the  Plains  to  the  Atlantic  *  is  a  title  which  shows  die  wide  sweep  of  my  fevth 
Outing  article,  for  it  covers  much  more  than  half  of  the  tour.  Trundling  through  the  noddy 
bottoms  of  the  South  Platte,  I  pass  Ogallala  (1525),  and,  after  a  night  in  a  homesteader's  dii^ 
out,  take  dinner  at  North  Platte  (1576),  cross  a  substantial  wagon-bri(^  just  beknr  where  the 
n.  and  s.  branches  join  and  proceed  eastward  at  '  the  Platte  "  simply,  and  so  I  readi  Brady 
Island  (1599)  for  the  night.  Stretdies  of  sand  alternate  with  ridable  roads  all  down  the  Platte, 
and  I  remember  Willow  Island  (16 17)  as  the  place  where  a  rattlesnake  fastened  his  deadly  faogs 
harmlessly  in  my  thick  canvas  leggings.  I  consider  it  a  lucky  day  that  does  not  add  to  my  loag 
and  eventful  list  of  headers ;  but  I  am  surprised  when  a  squall  blows  me  and  the  bicycle  dear 
over, — though  Nebraska  is  a  very  windy  country,  where  a  calm  day  seeoos  quite  the  ezoeptioa. 
More  ridable  roads  are  met  e.  of  Plum  Creek  (1636),  but  they  are  stfll  nothing  more  than  trails 
across  the  prairie,  until  at  Kearney  Junction  (1672)  they  become  excellent.  I  pass  Gnmd  Island 
(1713)  and  Central  City  (1735),  and  on  June  15  ride  from  Duncan  (1768)  to  North  Bend  (iSos)^ 
The  Platte  turns  s.  at  Fremont  (1820),  to  join  the  Missouri  at  Plattsmouth,  and  I  leave  it,  to 
follow  the  'oldmilitary  road'— 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 
Coundl  Bluffs;  and  nine  days  after  thus  crossing  the  Missouri  into  Iowa,  I  wheel  akmg  die 
splendid  government  bridge  from  Davenport  to  Rode  Island  (2185),  and  thus  cross  the  Missis- 
sippi into  Illinois,  rejoicing  that  f  of  my  tour  is  completed.  I  celebrate  the  Fvuith  of  July  by 
rolling  into  Chicago  (2348),  for  a  week's  rest ;  and  my  fortnight's  route  thither  may  be  thas 
shown, — the  last  town  mentioned  with  each  date  being  my  stopping-plaoe  for  the  nig^ ;  and  the 
numerals  signifying  the  distances  by  rail  from  Omaha :  June  19,  Coundl  Bluffs  to  Casaon 
hilly;  20th,  good  to  Gtiswold ;  aist,  verygoodandlcvd  to  Casey,  90;  aad,  similar  to  Stoait, 


LONG'-Dl STANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         479 

toi,  and  Earlham,  1x2  ;  33d,  fair  to  Des  Moines,  143,  and  Ahoona,  153 ;  a4th,  variable  to 
Colfax,  165,  Newton,  177,  and  Kellogg,  186;  35th,  variable  to  Grinnel],  197,  Brooklyn,  aia, 
and  Victor,  230;  a6th,  sandy  to  S.  Amana,  338,  Homestead,  343.  and  Tiffin,  355;  37th,  fair 
to  Iowa  City,  263,  sandy  to  Moscow,  2S8,  very  good  for  last  30  m.  to  Davenport,  317,  Rode 
Island,  319;  291th,  some  macadam,  some  sand,  fair  average,  MoHne,  321,  Geneseo,  341, 
Atkinson,  348;  30th,  level  and  improving,  Sheffield,  363,  Wyanet,  371,  Princeton,  378, 
LamoQle;  July  i,  sections  of  ^lendid  gravel,  Mendota,  389,  Bartville,  Sandwich,  416, 
Piano,  420,  Yorkville ;  ad,  fair,  Oswego,  Napenrille,  453 ;  3d,  Lyons,  47a ;  4th,  rather  poor 
and  worn  macadam  to  Chicago,  482.  '  Variable '  is  the  word  to  describe  the  Iowa  roads,  whose 
surface  greatly  depends  upon  the  weather.  When  wet,  the  farmers*  heavy  teams  wear  it  into 
ruts,  which  remain  rough  until  ground  down  by  traffic  The  soil  is  a  blade  loam  or  day,  very 
sticky  after  rain.  Autumn  is  hence  a  better  riding  season  than  spring ;  and  I  may  say  the  same 
for  Nebraska  and  Wyoming,  where  I  encountered  the  dampest  May  on  record.  The  last  25  m. 
to  Omaha,  through  the  Elk  river  bottom,  is  somewhat  rolling,  and  offered  a  fairly  good  surface, 
in  spite  of  the  muddy  *  miliury  road.'  For  75  m.  e.  of  O.,  the  prairie  rolls  like  a  heavy  Atlantic 
swell,  and  during  a  day's  Journey  I  passed  through  a  dozen  alternate  stretches  of  muddy  and 
dusty  road ;  for,  like  a  huge  watering-pot  do  the  rain-douds  pass  to  and  fro  over  this  great  gar- 
den of  the  West,  which  is  practically  one  contAuous  fertile  farm  from  the  Missouri  to  the 
Mississippi.  My  route  after  crossing  this  led  for  some  m.  up  the  river  bottom,  whose  roads 
offer  much  sand ;  but  this  disappears  near  Rock  river,  where  an  excellent  surface  is  found 
beneath  the  oak  groves  lining  that  beautiful  stream,  and  their  shade  is  specially  grateful  since 
the  thermometer  shows  100*  in  the  sun.  In  Bureau  county,  the  gravel  roads  are  very  fine. 
"  Good  riding  for  15  m.  from  Chicago,  and  then  tough  trundling  through  deep  sand  for  3 
m.,  land  me  in  Indiana,  which,  for  the  first  35  m.  around  the  s.  shore  of  Lake  Midiigan,  is 
simply  sand.  This  is  packed  firmer  on  the  water's  edge,  and,  as  the  roads  can  hardly  be  traversed 
at  an,  I  try  trundling  there  for  30  m.,  and  then  shoulder  the  bicycle,  and  scale  the  sand- 
dunes  which  border  the  lake,  and  after  wandering  i  h.  through  a  wilderness  of  swamps,  sand- 
bills  and  hickory  thickets,  reach  Miller's  Station  for  the  night.  At  Chesterton,  $  m.  on,  the  sur- 
face improves,  but  there  is  sand  enough  to  break  the  force  of  headers,  which  I  slill  manage  fre- 
quently to  take,  in  spite  of  my  long  experience.  At  Laporte,  18  m.  from  C,  the  riding  is  good 
for  some  distance,  but  I  traverse  several  m.  of  corduroy  road,  through  huckleberry  swamps,  be- 
fore  reaching  breakfast  at  Crum's  Point  (after  sleeping  under  a  wheat-shodc),  whence  splendid 
gnfvel  roads  lead  to  South  Befid  (37  m.  from  L.),  and  on  through  Mishawaka  (5  m.),  alternating 
with  sandy  stretches,  to  Goshen  (31  m.),  a  pretty  town  on  the  Elkhart  river.  It  is  10  a.  m.  of 
July  17,  when  I  bowl  across  the  boundary  line  into  Ohio,  whose  first  town  is  Edgarton  (59  m. 
from  G.),  whence  I  follow  the  course  of  the  Merchants*  &  Bankers'  telegraph,  through  deep 
dust  caused  by  drought,  to  Napoleon,  and  then  go  up  the  Maumee  river, — first  trying  the  canal 
tow-path,  and  then  exchanging  it  for  the  very  fair  wagon  road.  At  Perrysburg  (where  I  can  see 
the  smoke  of  Toledo)  I  strike  the  well-known  '  Maumee  pike,' — 40  m.  of  stone  road,  almost  a 
dead  level.  The  w.  part  of  it  is  kept  in  rather  poor  repair,  but  the  16  m.  from  Fremont  to 
Bellevue  is  splendid.  Patches  of  sand  are  found  after  leaving  this  e.  end  of  the  pike,  but  there 
are  numerous  good  side-paths  as  far  as  Cleveland  (67  m.  from  B.),  where  I  spin  down  the  fa- 
mous Eudid  av.,  to  the  village  of  that  name  (ro  m.),  and  continue  by  good  or  fair  roads  to  Ash- 
tabula (54  m.  from  E.),  and  by  rather  hilly  and  sandy  ones  to  Conneaut  (14  m.),  just  beyond 
which  I  enter  Pennsylvania  at  West  Springfield.  As  you  have  ridden  w.  from  Boston  to  Ash- 
tabula (see  p.  205),  over  roads  mostly  coinddent  with  my  own,  I  will  only  add  that  beyond  Syra- 
cuse I  tried  the  Erie  tow-path  and  the  highway  by  turns ;  but  rode  between  the  r.  r.  tracks  from 
Schenectady  to  Albany,  and  thence  to  the  State  line  of  Massachusetts,  and  also  from  Palmer  to 
Worcester,  without  trouble  except  at  culverts.  My  sleeping-places  from  Chicago,  were  :  July 
12,  Miller's  Station  ;  13,  Laporte  ;  14,  Goshen  *,  15,  Kendalville ;  16,  Ridgeville;  17,  near  Per- 
rysburg; 18,  Bellevue;  19,  Elyria;  20,  Madison;  2x,  Girard;  22,  Angola;  23,  Buffalo;  ^4, 
Leroy ;  25,  Canandaigua  ;  26.  Marcellus ;  27,  De  Witt ;  28,  near  Utica ;  29,  Indian  Castle ;  30, 
Cnme's  Village ;  31,  near  Nassau ;  Aug.  i,  Otis ;  a,  Palmer ;  3,  Worcester ;  4,  Boston. 


48o         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

It  wu  a  o'clock  on  Monday  afternoon  when  I  greeted  the  Atlantic,  just  15  weda  from  Saa 
Francisco.  I  made  no  all-day  halts  e.  of  Chicago,  and  my  average  for  the  24  days  tbezicc  tD 
Boston  (estimating  the  distance  at  1024  m. ;  it  is  1050  by  r.  r.)  wras  42!  m.  The  14  days  wiien  1 
made  no  advance  at  all  were  April  27,  at  Clipper  Gap ;  May  4,  Lovelocks ;  11,  Deeth  ;  18,  Oc> 
den ;  29,  Rawlins ;  June  2,  Laramie ;  rS,  Omaha ;  and  July  5  to  11  inclusive,  at  Chicago.  My 
shorter  halu  for  a  half-day  or  more  would  increase  the  total  to  at  least  21  complete  days,  so  that 
my  actual  time  in  traveling  may  be  called  12  vreeks.  East  of  the  Mississippi,  I  had  avenge 
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  8  m. 
of  this  which  I  waded  through.  May  22-23,  before  getting  to  Carter  station,  the  worst  siufaoe  I 
encountered  was  on  the  day  I  left  Chicago,  and  plunged  into  the  swamps  and  sands  of  Indiaiia. 
Yet  some  of  the  gravel  roads  of  that  State  and  Illinois  gave  better  riding  than  I  usually  found  in 
N.  Y.  or  Mass. ;  though  1  nowhere  met  a  single  long  stretch  comparable  to  the  '  rtAet  road ' 
that  ends  near  Buffalo.  On  this,  I  took  my  longest  day's  ride,  Girard  to  Angola  (82  m.  by  r.  r.); 
and  the  ride  ranking  second  was  in  Nebraska  ending  at  Kearney  Junction,  from  a  point  near 
Plum  Creek,  about  65  m.  away.  Of  the  whole  disunce  traversed,  from  ocean  to  ocean,  I  sapposc 
at  leut  \  was  done  on  foot  The  chief  discoiif ort  of  the  experience  was  hunger,  as  my  appetite 
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,  a»  representing  the 
full  days  of  touring,  gives  a  daily  average  of  40}  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  2,  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 
Berkhamsted,  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  throvqgh 
Brighton  to  Newhaven,  on  the  loth, — finishing  thus  "  the  first  300  m.  he  ever  wheeled  without 
a  header.**  Disembarking  at  Dieppe,  next  morning,  his  course  lay  through  the  Arques  valley 
to  Rouen  and  Elbeuf ;  thence,  on  the  12th,  to  Mantes,  on  the  Seine;  and  on  the  13th  to  Paris, 
at  2  p.  M.,  where  he  rested  the  next  two  days.  On  the  16th,  he  went  through  Fontenoy  and 
Provins  to  Sezanne,  where  "  a  heavy  rain  during  the  night  rather  improved  the  gravel  surface,** 
so  that  on  the  17th,  starting  at  8.30  a.  m.  and  stopping  1  h.  for  dinner  at  Vitiy  le  Francois  (65 
kil.),  he  "  reached  Bar  le  Due  at  5  p.  m.,  a  disUnce  of  160  kilometers  (about  100  m,\  without 
any  undue  exertion.  The  forenoon's  road  was  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  stretches  imaginable, 
most  of  the  surface  being  as  perfect  as  an  asphalt  boulevard,  and  the  contour  of  the  countiy 
somewhat  resembling  the  swelling  prairies  of  Iowa."  A  storm  of  rain  and  hail  enforced  a  halt 
during  the  i8th,  at  the  village  of  Trouville,  but  on  the  19th,  in  spite  of  bad  weather,  he  reached 
Nancy,  and  on  the  20th  crossed  into  Germany  (Lorraine),  and  spent  the  night  at  Pfalzbutg.  His 
French  mileage  was  about  400,  representing  only  six  full  riding  days ;  for  he  *'  found  the  Nor- 
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  Idlomelers 
and  yards  to  several  of  the  nearest  towns ;  while  small  stone  posts  along  the  roadside  mark  every 
100  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  IKnt< 
stones  on  the  surface,— so  that  the  wheelman  must  either  follow  the  wheel-marks  or  pidt  his  way 
along  the  edges.  This  is  especially  true  of  Bavaria.  I  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  the 
roads  through  Servia  rank  next  to  the  French  and  English,  though,  as  they  are  mostly  tmnm^ 
adamited,  my  experience  of  them  might  not  have  been  as  enjoyable  if  wet  weather  had  pr»> 
vailed.  The  camel-paths  across  the  level  plains  of  Persia,  being  of  hard  gravel,  are  simply 
perfect  for  wheeling,  as  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  I  covered  the  last  aoo  m.  to  Teheran,  the  cap- 
iul,  in  three  days ;  but  that  was  incomparably  the  best  stretch  e.  of  Constantinople,  and  I  had 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         481 

rather  wlieel  Irani  C  to  London  and  back  again,  than  from  Ismidt  to  the  Persian  frontier.  In 
Asia  Minor  and  Koordistan,  I  found  little  else  but  mountains,  and  they  were  the  steepest  ones 
I  ever  dimbed.  The  mule-paths  and  camel-trails  which  I  followed  there  for  nearly  looo  m. , 
«»ver  a  suoceasion  of  mountain  ranges  and  spurs,  were  uameasonbly  more  difficult  than  any- 
thinc;  experienced  in  the  Rockies.  Nevertheless,  all  through  Angora  (which  poverty-stricken 
pvowince  boasts  450  m.  of  artificial  wagon-road,  thanks  to  the  energy  of  the  present  mayor  of  its 
capita],  Sottleiman  Efendi),  I  would  prefer  the  Incyple  to  a  horse." 

Coostantinople  was  his  first  appointed  stopping  place,  on  account  of  the  heat  (July  a  to 
Atts.'  xa),  and  he  estimated  his  two  months'  mileage  thither  from  Liverpool  as  about  3750,— his 
looc^^  '■^t  having  been  at  Vienna,  for  the  first  three  days  of  summer.    His  itinerary  from  the 
Rhioo    was  as   follows :    "  May   30,    good   but   hilly  roads,  through  the  rain,  to  Saveme ; 
slippery  descent  into  the  Rhine  valley  at  Marlenheim ;  cross  the  river  at  Strasbuiig ;  level  and 
leaa  muddy  to  Oberiurch;  aist,  up  the  Rench  valley,  by  well-nigh  perfect  road  to  Petersthal ; 
then  miles  of  steep  trundlii^  through  the  Black  Forest,  till  I  cross  the  line  from  Baden  into 
Wflrtemburg,  at  the  summit,  and  have  a  smooth  and  gentle  descent  to  Freudenstadt ;  aad, 
ratlser  hilly  and  stony,  to  Rothenbur^g  *,  33d,  rain  and  mud,  throu^  Tttbingen  to  Blaubenren ; 
a4tfa,  down  the  Danube  to  Ulm,  where  I  cross  into  Bavaria,  and  reach  Augsburg  at  early  even- 
ing, having  covered  lao  kil.  since  10  o'clock,  spite  of  abundant  loose  stones ;  35th,  Munich, 
where  I  halt  for  the  afternoon  and  next  day ;  37th,  startmg  after  a  ni|^t's  nin,  thrcnagh  a  waste 
o(  loose  flints  and  mud-filled  ruts,  I  take  my  first  European  header ;  find  better  roads  sUong  the 
Inn  river  to  Alt  Getting ;  aSth,  at  Simpach,  cross  the  Inn  and  enter  Austria,  whose  upland 
roads  thence  to  the  valley  of  the  Danube  have  less  loose  flints  but  areaggravatii^ly  hilly ;  39th, 
Strenbofs;  joth,  Nen  Longbach ;  31st,  at  noon,  Vienna.    June  4,  have  an  Austrian  escort  to 
Presabaag,  where  cross  into  Hungary  at  noon,  and  find  a  fair  proportion  of  side-paths  to  Alten- 
buis,-'-dry  weather  having  made  the  highway  as  unridable  as  a  plowed  field ;  5th,  down  the 
Danube,  through  the  level  wheat-fields  to  Nexmely ;  6th,  through  broiling  hot  weather,  by 
rather  smoother  but  hillier  roads,  to  Budapest,  where  I  am  welcomed  by  the  C.  T.  C.  consul, 
L.  D.  Kostovita,  who  introduced  the  first  bicycle  here,  on  his  return  from  England,  in  the  au> 
tomn  of  '79,  though  there  are  now  100  riders;  8th,  to  Duna  Pentele,  7s  m.*,  hot  and  dusty,  but 
superior  roads,  fringed  with  mulberry  trees,  instead  of  the  poplars,  which  were  the  crowning 
iSar§  of  the  French  bndscape,  and  the  abundant  apple  and  pear  trees  which  shaded  the  way  in 
Germany ;  9th,  Szekaard ;  loth,  Duna  Ssekeso,^where  I  halt  half  a  day,  as  it  b  the  home  of 
Svetosar  Egali,  who  is  my  companion  from  Budapest  to  Belgrade,  and  who  wheeled  in  '84  from 
Montpellier,  in  Fnnoe,  through  Italy,  Styria  and  Croaria,  to  Budapest;  nth,  Essek,  the  cafutal 
of  Slavonia,  where  rain  stops  us  for  a  day,  and  causes  much  stow  trundlmg  through  the  mod, 
on  the  zjth,  to  Sarengrad ;  14th,  Peterwardein,  on  the  border  of  Hungary,  opposite  NeusMs ; 
15th,  over  the  Fruskagora  mountains  to  Batainitz ;  K6th,  early  in  the  forenoon  to  Belgrade,  the 
capital  of  Servia,  where  a  bicycle  dub  of  30  f<mns  the  Ia|^  cycling  outpost  towards  the  Orient  ; 
iSth,  Grotzka,  35  k.,  from  4  to  7.30  p.  m.;  19th,  Jagodroa,  8  a.  11.  to  9  p.  m.,— 14s  k.,  in  spite 
of  the  great  heat,  and  much  poor  surfisce  during  the  first  4S  '^  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;  30th,  Niach,  5.30  a.  m.,  to  6  p.  11.,— xso  k.  of  even  better  average  rid- 
ing than  the  day  before ;    31st,  over  the  Balkans  and  through  the  Niasiva  valley  to  Beki  Pa- 
laaka,  50  k.,  where  rain  holds  me  over  Sunday,  while  my  companion  from  Belgrade  (Doochan 
Ptopovits, '  the  best  rider  in  Servia  *)  hires  a  team  to  dr;^  him  back  through  the  mud  to  N.; 
33d,  through  the  border  towns  of  IHrot  and  Zaribrod,  onto  Bulgaria,— a  country  of  mountains 
aad  plateaas,— to  Sofia,  its  capital,  5  a.  m.  to  4.30  p.  m.,  no  k.,  in  spite  of  mud,  hill  dimbing 
and  ratty  roads ;  34th,  helped  by  the  wind,  the  same  as  yesterday,  I  manage  to  ride,  along  the 
worst  road  yet  experienced  in  Europe,  to  Ichtiman,  in  RoumeUa,  at  3  o'clock;  asth,  throii^ 
mud  and  rain,  over  the  Kodja  Balkans,  then  down  the  Maritsa  valley  by  decent  macadam  to  a 
MdlsMks  beyond  Tartar  Baxardjik ;  36th,  a  ride  of  s  h.,  on  good  surface,  for  breakfast  at  Phi- 
ippopolis,  the  capital;  then  through  showers  and  mud  to  Canheme;    37th,  fairiy  smooth  but 
hilly  roads  to  Hermouli,  the  last  town  of  Roomelia,  at  11  a.  m.;  then  agaaaat  a  head-wind  to 
31 


43a  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

MaaUpha  Pasha,  the  fint  town  in  Turkey  proper,  and  through  the  rain  towards  Adcnnapkp 
until  at  lo  p.  m.,  I  reach  a  dry  qpot  and  crawl  under  Maie  prune  bushes  for  the  n^bt;  aad^ 
breakfast  in  A.,  on  roast  lamb,  the  first  well-cooked  bit  of  meat  I  've  had  since  leaving  Misc^; 
rain  has  fallen  during  every  one  of  these  8  days,  but  I  suppose  I  should  be  glad  of  it,  lor  ■natf* 
ferable  heat  is  the  only  other  alternative  in  the  Orient  at  this  season ;  my  road  tttras  iram  the 
Maritsa  valley  at  A.,  and  leads  across  the  dreary  undulations  of  the  Adrianople  plnini  imha 
and  hilly  graxing  lands,  traversed  by  small  sloughs— to  Eski  Baba,  where  rain  holds  me  dtn^ 
Sunday,  a^th,  and  where  my  fourth  (hding  chapter  is  finished.  My  oouxae  for  these  fast  t«« 
days  has  led  akmg  an  ancient  and  abandoned  macadam,  which  gives  occastooal  ridaUe  stretches, 
where  the  trafik  has  worn  down  the  weeds  and  thistles,  and  which  offers  a  refuge  from  tlK  sm^ 
sloughs  of  the  adjacent  dirt  road,  though  nearly  every  bridge  and  culvert  has  been  destroyed; 
and  during  the  next  two  days  of  rain  and  mud  I  complete  the  European  section  of  my  toar.asd 
roll  into  Constantinople  on  the  morning  of  July  a,  for  a  six  weeks*  halt.  *  We  fancy  the  rids 
looks  a  little  fatigued,'  says  the  Stamimtl  Jcmmaly  '  but  his  horse  is  in  good  condition.' 

"Crossing  the  Bosporus  into  Asia  Minor,  at  Ismidt,  Aug.  la,  I  reach  Angora  (aao  m.  by 
cycIom.)at  6  p.  m.  of  the  i6th,  though  the  post  service  over  the  same  route  takes  9  days,  and  dbe 
first  half  of  it  is  simply  mule-paths  over  roounuins, — the  worst  I  ever  traversed ;  and  1  stop  at  At 
house  of  Mr.  Henry  Binns,  an  Englishman  engaged  in  the  mohair  trade,  as  my  only  dtance  ef 
getting  a  da/s  quiet,  ^gainst  the  tremendous  mobs  of  curious  natives  vrtio  bedege  every  ikmm 
where  I  put  op,  from  the  moment  of  my  arrival  until  I  leave  the  town,  importuning  me  to  Hm  ! 
kin  !  ('  mount !  mount  I  *)>  an<l  offering  to  give  me  everything  conceivable,  except  what  I  aMst 
need— irest.  Here  at  Angoia,  it  is  promised  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  — »«i«L.i«ir«» 
stretch  of  600  yards,  outside  the  town ;  and  at  10.30  on  the  iSth,  I  find  more  than  aooo  people 
awaiting -there  to  see  'thecraxy  Englishman  on  the  Devil's  carriage.'  The  body^inardof  the 
governor,  Sirri  Pacha  (who  is  present,  with  most  of  the  government  officials  and  the  Uitg  of  the 
city),  whip  back  the  throngs  to  dear  the  course  for  me,  and  I  wheel  iq>  and  down  this  thrice,  b^ 
fore  starting  on  for  Sivas  (383  m.),  a  dty  of  50,000,  where  I  halt  a  day  and  have  an  httcrview 
with  the  p^ha,  Halif  Rifat,  and  with  the  American  missionary,  Rev.  A.  W.  Hubbaid.  Be* 
tween  Aug.  ay  and  Sept  3, 1  traverse  the  next  308  m.  to  Erxeroum,  a  daily  average  of  40  m., 
in  spite  of  bridgeless  streams  and  predpttous  mountain-trails,  for  in  the  valleys  I  often  find 
stretches  of  road  that  would  be  creditable  to  a  European  country.  Leaving  £.  on  the  yth,  I 
pass  into  Persia  at  a  pdnt  beyond  Khoi,  and  readi  Tabreez  (389  m.)  on  the  i8th,  doing  tlw  last 
40  m.  on  macadam  in  half  a  day.  This  i&  a  part  of  the  great  caravan  route,  and  though  there 
are  no  wheded  vehicles  at  all  in  Persia,  the  country  is  less  mountainous  than  Asia  Minor,  and 
the  camel-trails  allow  more  riding  than  I  expected.  Tabrees  is  the  site  of  ancient  Tarsns, 
and  on  the  way  hither  I  pass  dose  to  the  foot  of  Mt.  Ararat,  whose  top  is  covered  with  saow.  I 
halt  in  T.  two  days,  as  there  are  several  English^peaking  residents  with  whom  I  can  talk  ;  and 
1  find.  Europeans  in  chaige  of  two  telegraph  sutions  which  I  encounter  on  the  way  to  Tebeaaa 
(376  m.),  where  I  finish  my  touring  for  i8Ss  at  noon  of  Sept.  30.  It  seems  a  pity  to  be  leslag 
in  October,  the  best  month  of  the  twelve  for  travding  in  Central  Asia,  but  as  I  oovld  get  no 
fartheir  e.  than  Herat  this  season,  and  might  be  overtaken  by  bad  weather  on  the  way»  it  is 
wisest  to  spend  the  winter  here  at  the  capitaf,  where  I  can  learn  something  of  the  roads  and 
customs  and  languages  ol  the  dangerous  countries  to  be  traversed  in  '86  (for,  though  I  am  weB 
past  the  half>way  stage  of  my  round-the-world  route,  the  real  difficulties  of  it  are  still  ahead),  and 
write  my  OntfMi^  articles  in  comfort.  Betvreen  Bei  Baaaar,  where  my  cydometer^ptn  brake,  and 
Sivas,  where  I  had  it  repaired  again,  the  measurement  of  300  m.  is  by  Tnricish  postJiovn  ;  sfl 
the  rest  of  the  way  it  is  by  cyclometer,  and  the  total  from  Constantinople  to  Teheran  »  1576  m. 
As  I  made  no  advance  at  all  on  7  days  of  the  50,  this  shows  an  average  daily  piugiem  thnnvh 
Asia  of  almost  37  m., — ^without  allowing  for  the  shorter  halts.  During  the  two  months  wfaidi  I 
spent  in  crasnng  Europe,  I  carried  no  cydometer,  but  I  compute  the  distanoe  as  ayso  m. ;  and 
as  my  all-day  halu  amounted  to  a  fortnight,  the  48  days  when  I  did  some  riding  show  an  aver- 
age advance  of  57}  nu    There  were  thus  91  riding  days  in  the  five  months'  journey  from  Liver- 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         483 

pool  to  Teheran  (43x6  m.).  ■bowing  an  ai^enge  of  more  than  47^  m.  a  day.    The  btcyde,  like 
myself,  has  had  aereral  narrow  escapes,  but  is  without  a  serioos  flaw  to  tell  the  story  of  what  it 
has  luwieiguue,  czoept  that  the  rear  tire  is  worn  quite  down  to  the  rim.    I  have  n'l  had  occasion 
to  so  moch  as  tighten  a  spoke ;  and  as  I  have  n't  had  time  to  polish  the  nickel  plate,  it  naturally 
I  n  slightly  traveUetained  appearance.    This  50  in.  wheel,  it  is  safe  to  say,  has  created 
» cenaine  interest,  from  Constantinople  to  Teheran,  than  anything  that  ever  went  over  the 
Within  a  week  after  my  arrival,  even  the  Shah  himself  invited  roe  to  gratify  his 
ciarioaky  by  displaying  to  him  the  capacities  of  the  mechanism ;  and  on  the  8th  Oct.  (as  de> 
tailed  in  Jan.  Outing)  I  wheeled  in  the  presence  of  that  monarch,  along  the  7^  m.  of  macadam 
wluch  connects  the  dty  with  the  royal  palace  and  gardens  at  Doshan  Tepe.    My  earlier  expen- 
ences  in  Koordistan  and  Penia  have  been  strange  and  varied  ahnost  beyond  belief,  and  my  de- 
•csiptiom  of  them  cannot  fail  to  be  far  more  novel  and  entertaining  than  anything  I  ever  wrote 
sfcboot  the  lours  across  America  and  Eorope.''    (Illustrated  article  about  Teheran,  by  S.  G.  W 
Benjamin,  late  U.  S.  Minister  to  Persia,  appear  in  the  current  Ctnimy  and  Harper**,  Jan.,  '86.) 
The  forgoing  summary  of  Stevens's  story  baa  been  compiled  by  me,  from  several  sources, 
at  a  coat  of  ei^t  days'  steady  work  (56  h.);  and  I  have  gladly  given  to  it  this  great  amount  ol 
time  and  space — ^just  when  both  are  very  precious  to  me — not  only  because  I  think  his  advenu 
ure  the  most  remarkable  and  interesting  exploit  ever  accomplished  by  a  bicycle,  or  ever  likely 
to  be  accamplished,  but  because  it  appeals  to  me  personally,  as  harmg  a  sort  of  kinship  with 
my  own  desperate  struggle  to  push  this  book  around  the  world.    Stevens  was  bom  the  day  be- 
fore Christmas,  the  same  as  myself,  though  eight  years  later ;  he  learned  bicycling  at  the  doee 
of  '83,  as  the  first  step  in  his  scheme,  just  when  I  was  formuhuiag  the  first  prospectus  of  mine  \ 
he  made  the  "  impossible  "  passage  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Miasiasippi  during  the  same  early 
months  of  '84  while  I  was  capturing  the  "  impossible  "  1000  subscribers  that  I  called  for  as  a 
preliminary  guarantee  of  good^aith,— both  of  us  thereby  simultaneously  winnmg  from  the  cycling 
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  Constanthiople,  at  the 
middle  of  '85  (#bich  few  people  seriously  expected  hira  to  do),  on  almost  the  identical  day 
when  I  registered  my  loog-fought-for  3000th  subscription  (which  all  wdMnformed  observers  had 
insisted  was  unattainable) ;  he  reached  his  winter's  resting  place,  at  tho  capital  of  Persia,  just 
when  I  was  compelled  to  give  my  overworked  right  arm  a  similar  long  rest,  by  leammg  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  dedaive  year  is  to  be  the  most  difficult  of  any,  and  that  the  obstades  overcome  are 
afanoat  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  remoldy  and  imperceptibly  and  unwillingly  done  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 
anoont  of  out-door  exercise,  and  the  companionship  of  his  friends,  a  long  continued  stretch  of 
"  aoltiary  oonfinement  at  hard  labor  "  bears  a  suggestion  of  deadliness  about  it,  even  when 
aeU*impoeed ;  and,  though  I  claim  no  credit  for  thus  obeying  that  apparently  ineviuble  law  of 
the  universe,  which  decrees  that  nothing  important  shall  be  accomplished  here  except  by  one 
who  is  wiUmg  to  "  sail  as  dosdy  as  possible  to  the  wrod  "  of  his  probable  strength  and  vitality, 
—in  other  words,  to  push  hunself  as  near  the  brink  of  actual  suicide  as  he  believes  can  be  done 
without  tumbling  over  it,— I  hope  the  comparison,  which  I  pomt  by  alluding  to  that  law,  may  at 
least  hdp  to  dear  Stevens,  in  the  minds  of  some,  from  any  appearance  of  being  either  reckless 
or  foolhardy.    He  is  as  much  of  a  man-of-buainesa  as  I  am,  and  he  has  the  same  motive  and 
inapiratioo  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  dangeitMis 
—than  my  own.    We  both  believe  that  the  most  amusing  place  to  enjoy  a  view  of  "  life"  is 
from  the  top  of  a  bicyde,  and  we  are  both  willing  to  make  the  needed  sacrifices  to  earn  enough 
money  for  indulging  in  that  amusement.     It  is  proper  that  he  shouM  have  his  pay  ensured  him 
in  advance,  because  of  the  vastly  greater  peril  that  he  undergoes ;  but  I  inaist  that  such  insur- 


484  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

anoe  does  not  make  his  motive  a  whit  more  "  mercenary  "  than  my  own.  If  amy  1 
persons  are  inclined  to  sneer  at  Stevens  because  his  round-the-world  bkyding  is 
ment/*  I  hope  to  be  complimented  by  having  them  extend  the  sneer  to  cover  me  and  my  1 
the-world  book.  This  was  designed  simply  as  *'  an  advertisement/' — a  mote  daborate  aoad 
painsuking  advertisement  of  the  power  and  permanence  of  cycling  than  any  man's  pen  had 
previously  attempted,— and  if  (instead  of  wearily  drumming  up  "3000  subscribers")  I  codd 
have  persuaded  a  single  generous  patron  of  the  sport  to  have  ensured  my  whole  payment  in 
advance,  I  should  have  thought  myaelf  much  ludcier  than  now,  when  the  questioo  of  asy  se- 
ceiving  an  adequate  reward  for  two  years'  work  actually  rendered  is  a  question  of  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  move 
perfectly  shown  than  in  the  inability  of  "  the  trade  "  of  England  to  gia^  the  idea  that  the 
success  of  the  Stevens  scheme  would  be  "  an  advertisement "  for  eadi  and  every  one  of  flu  m 
Instead,  therefore,  of  "  booming  "  it  to  the  utmost,  through  the  press,  for  thdr  own  1  ■■"■»« —^ 
advantage,  and  getting  some  share  of  the  credit  as  its  ostensible  supporters,  they  hdd  aloeff 
from  it,  and  as  far  as  possible  ignored  it,  as  if  it  were  a  dangerous  Yankee  trick  for  c 
the  manufactures  of  England.  I  was  glad  to  find,  at  our  first  interview,  that  Stevens 
had  none  of  this  narrowness  of  vision,  but  heartily  accepted  my  own  theory  as  to  the  « 
"solidarity"  (m  distinction  from  rivalry)  of  our  two  schemes  for  the  manufacture  and  sale  of 
cycling  literature.  "  The  success  of  one  must  help  rather  than  hinder  the  sucoess  of  the  otha-,'* 
I  said  to  him  then  and  still  believe  ;  and  my  strong  sympathy  for  the  man  himself  may  pefha|ja 
render  the  story  of  his  Oriental  adventures  more  interesting  to  me  than  to  those  who  never  aaet 
him,  or  who  have  less  enthusiasm  than  I  for  seeing  the  worid  a-wheelback ;  but  I  do  not  think  I 
am  controlled  by  any  selfish  or  personal  considerations  when  I  urge  every  one  of  my  readers  an 
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 Ada,  are  enough  to  stir  the  bkxxl  of  the  most  sluggish  with  a  keen  desire  to  learn  the  haD 
details  of  them ;  and  if  any  cyclers  exist  who  regard  his  story  with  indiflFerenoe,  I  can  only  say, 
as  one  of  my  earliest  Mibscribers  said  of  those  ih^io  might  fail  to  pledge  me  their  support  on  the 
instant  of  reading  the  fiist  prospectus  of  this  book :  "  Their  bicydes  ought  to  be  taken  ri|^ 
away  from  them  I  "  

Second  only  to  Stevens,  in  respect  to  the  length  of  American  roadway  explored  ni  a  aiasic 
season,  stands  Hugh  J.  High  (b.  April  a6,  1858),  who  in  '85  wheeled  from  Pottstown,  Fa.,  liay 
4,  continuously  to  Middleton,  la.,  June  5 ;  and  then,  after  a  three  months'  sUy  in  Nefasnaka, 
wheeled  home  again,  by  a  different  route,  Aug.  a?  to  Oct.  ro.  The  length  of  his  < 
trail  was  1001  m.,  whereof  174  m.  had  to  be  walked,  and  his  riding  time  was  1934  h.;  ( 
trail,  1664  m.,  337  m.  walked,  riding  time  304  h.  Combining  the  two,  the  corresponding  I 
are  2665,  401,  497^ ;  and  as  he  toured  343  m.  to  different  points  in  Nebraska,  has  total  1 
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  siaace 
'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  tbb  country  lior 
the  learning  of  such  music,"— his  previous  acquisitions  of  that  sort  havti^  been  gained  mder 
difficulties,  during  the  leisure  left  from  working  10  h.  a  day  in  the  nail-mill  at  Biidshaw,  9  an.  w. 
of  P.,— for  the  death  of  his  father  forced  him  to  leave  school  at  the  age  of  14  and  earn  his  ovn 
support.  Proximity  to  the  bicycles  of  his  nephew  and  brother  led  him  to  becoane  a  rider,  at 
the  opening  of  '83,  and  he  took  short  rides  of  8  to  ta  m.,  almost  daily  daring  that  acaaoa,  uptat 
of  abundant  tumbles.  The  Pottstown  B.  C,  of  la  members,  was  formed  Aog.  i,  "Sf,  and 
elected  him  captain.  On  the  asth,  he  sold  his  Standard  Columbia  and  bought  the  Expcft 
which  has  served  him  since.  With  it  he  got  a  McDonnell  cyclometer,  which  daring  the  aicxt 
9  weeks  registered  533  m.  Then,  Nov.  8  to  25,  in  company  with  A.  M.  Sheffey  and  J.  G. 
High,  he  took  a  4Soo^  ^u'  ^  Washington  and  bade;  and  hb  enjoyment  of  this  led  him  to 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS,         485 

plan  m  longer  one  for  the  spring  of  *85.  MMinwbile  he  added  a88  m.  to  his  record,  and  decided 
to  make  Seward,  Neb.,  his  objective  point,  as  he  "  wished  to  visit  a  friend  there,  and  also  see  the 
intermediate  coontiy,-— espedaJly  the  mountains  of  Western  Pennsylvania.  My  outfit  com- 
fMrised  corduroy  breeches,  havii^  the  seat  and  front  faced  with  deer-ekin,  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  hsted  as  far  as  St.  Louis  (1669  m.),  where  I  bought  a  second  pair.  Garnet 
was  the  color  of  both,  and  also  of  my  shirt ;  and  I  wore  a  light  colored  jockey  cap.  Besides 
my  tourmg  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  i4si  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  dtixens  generally,  escorting  me  through  the 
principal  streeU  of  the  town;  and  my  bicycle  was  afterwards  put  on  exhibition  at  the  Boston 
oflke  of  the  Pope  Mfg.  Ca,  to  convince  people  how  well  it  had  stood  the  strain. 

"  The  numerals  of  the  following  itinerary  show  first  the  day's  mileage,  and  second  its  rid- 
ing hours  (miles  done  on  fool  being  given  in  parenthesis) ;  the  asterisk  shows  where  rain  put  a 
Slop  to  riding ;  and  the  first  halt  in  each  Sute  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 
Hill,  15  (7),  3I;  8,  Schellsburg,  34  (8),  6;  9,  *Stoyestown,  19  (10),  5 ;  10,  Youngstown,  aS  (10), 
7;  II,  Pittsburg,  43  (12),  10;  »,  SteubenviUe,  O.,  39(15),  10  (stopped  here  5  days  to  visit 
friends) ;  18,  Hendrysbaig,  49  (9),  8^ ;  19,  *New  Concord,  3a  (8>,  4^ ;  ao,  Reynoldsbuig,  6a  (8), 
9;  ai,  Springfield,  58,  7 ;  aa,  •Vandalia,  ai,  z\\  33,  Lewisville,  Ind.,  64,  9;  24,  Indianapolis, 
4J.  6 ;  as,  Greencastle,  41,  7 ;  a6,  Paris,  III.,  58  (io)»  \%\ ;  a7,  Chesterville,  42  (8),  9 ;  28,  •at  a 
farm-house,  38  (3),  6^;  39,  Decatur,  14  (5),  3  ;  30,  Mount  Pulaski,  23  (10),  6:31.  Havana,  49 
(«>)>  n\  \  Juw  «f  •Lewislown,  8  (8),  i\ ;  3,  •Bushnell,  36  (5),  8 ;  3,  •Disco,  30  (3),  6 ;  4,  •  Bur- 
lington, la,,  13  (11),  4I ;  S>  Middleton,  9  (6),  3.  1  was  thus  hindered  by  rain  on  9  of  my  a8 
riding  days,  and  there  were  only  8  days  when  I  did  no  walking,  but  my  aven^  daily  advance 
was  35{  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.  37,  DeWitl,  Neb.,  47,  9;  38,  Marysville,  Kan.,  51,  9;  39,  •Waterville,  31  (6),  4;  30,  Oay 
Center,  43  (3)»  8*  J  Sept.  a,  Bclone,  61  (5),  10 ;  3,  Medina,  53  (i),  8| ;  4,  Perryville,  i  (i),  \\  6, 
'Lawrence,  ao(i8),  5I;  8,  EdwardsviUe,  37  (34),  8^;  9,  Independence,  Mo.,  37  (la),  5^;  ro, 
Strasborg,  37(18),  9;  11,  La  Monte,  50  (5),  9;  13,  •Otterville,  34  (9),  6^;  14,  Centertown, 
36(15),  8| ;  15,  Lmn,  38(33),  10;  16,  at  a  farm-house,  34  (15),  9;  17,  Gray's  Summit,  35  (15), 
8i ;  18.  St.  Louis,  38  (a),  5^ ;  19,  New  Baden,  Dl.,  30,  5 ;  ao,  Rome,  60,  9^ ;  ai,  Albion,  53,  9 ; 
33,  Oakland,  Ind.,  43  (>)>  8;  a3»  Boston,  46  (6),  9;  34,  Bemville,  39  (la),  8;  25,  Simpsonville, 
Ky.,  40,  5};  36,  Winchester,  75,  10;  37,  Farmers'  Crossing,  41  (i),  6;  38,  Grayson,  44  (3),  9. 
(Idnerary  for  next  13  days  may  be  found  at  foot  of  p.  351.)  Rain  stopped  me  entirely  on  5 
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  milea^  for  the  1664  m.  was  4a|.  I  printed 
uUes  of  these  disUnces  in  Spr.  Wk,  Go*.  (Nov.)  and  Phil.  Cyc.  Ree.  (Nov.  14,  38),  and 
supplied  for  the  latter  the  following  remarks  about  the  roads :  P*nmsylvaM$a.—T?\\iit  to 
Chambersbuig ;  hilly  to  Ft.  London,  incl.  9  m.  over  Cone  mtn. ;  three  mtn.  ridges  to  Shellsbuix ; 
19  m.,  stony  and  sandy,  over  Allegbanies ;  10  m.,  fair  pike  to  Jannertown,  where  cross  Laurel  hlfl, 
steep  and  stony  for  9  m. ;  lair  road  through  Ligonier  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.  £7A/>.— SteubenviUe,  by  road  of  same 
name,  can  only  be  ridden  in  dry  weather.  To  Hendrysbutg,  by  Ohio  riv.  rd.  to  Bridgeport,  33  m. , 
with  5  m.  bad  bluff;  on  r.  r.,  gravel  ballasL    At  Bridgeport  took  National  pike;  hilly,  good; 


486         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

JacktowD,  73  m.,  pike,  hilly.  Indiama. — lodianApolis,  ao6  m.,  pike,  level,  good; 
41  m.,  pike,  20  m.  good;  5  m.  dirt  to  Greenctstle;  pike  11  m.;  crosied  several  1 
bridged,  ///m^m.— Paris ;  dirt  to  Brasil,  bad ;  better  to  Terxe  Haute ;  cross  Wabash  rir. : 
Springfield  rd.  5  m. ;  then  stony,  sandy  and  bluff  id.  4  m. ;  then  level.  Decatur,  84  m.,  fafarii 
muck,  unridable  when  wet ;  as  it  was  rainy,  used  r.  r.  bed,  between  tracks,  trtiole  di^tawr 
Lincoln,  33  ro. ;  on  track  of  P.  D.  &  £.  r.  r.,  dirt  ballast.  Havana,  sand  hill  11  m. ;  not  rida- 
ble ;  balance  on  r.  r.,  dirt  ballast.  Lewistown,  8  m.,  no  riding ;  trundled  on  ties  of  narrow-gn^ 
r  r.  Bushnel,  36  m.,  by  C.  B.  &  Q.  r.  r.,  dirt  ballast,  then  by  Rode  Island  r.  r.,  gravel  faaHaat. 
mostly  ridable.  Disco,  30  m.,  by  Wabash  r.  r.,  dirt  ballast.  Itwa, — ^Burlington,  13  m.  on  road- 
bed of  W.  and  C  B.  &  Q.  r.  r.,  Ust  5  m.  dangerous  trundling  00  trestles.  Middlctowa,  9 
m.  by  road-bed  of  C.  B.  &  Q.  r.  r.,  5  m.  dirt  and  gravel,  then  stone  ballast,  latter  not  ricfaUc. 
A  black  muck  road,  mostly  level,  follows  r.  r.  and  is  fine  when  dry,  unridaUe  when  wet 
Nthrtuka. — Roads  throughout  a.  e.  of  State  are  ridable  in  the  dry  season.  Three  day*  after  a 
hard  rain  a  bicycler  can  venture  on  any  of  the  mostly-traveled  ones,  but  great  care  must  be  takca 
in  going  down-grade  across  ravines.  Most  roads  are  worn  down  on  each  aide  by  doable  team* 
leaving  them  high  in  the  middle,  making  a  good  path  for  the  bicycle  in  either  wagoo-izaeL 
The  soil  is  more  sandy  at  the  n.,  near  the  Platte.  My  return  trip  began  ai  Sewaid. 
Kansas. — Qay  Center,  i6a  m.,  due  s.  on  section  roads;  some  parallel  roads  across  open  prairie 
Bellevue,  61  m.,  clay  and  sand  muced.  Peiryville,  54  m.,  black  clay,  good  when  dry.  There  ii 
a  main  road  on  the  n.  side  of  the  Kansas  riv.  to  Kansas  Citsr — 72  m. ;  good  when  dry.  The  r. 
r.  on  the  n.  side  has  dirt  and  stone  ballast ;  some  riding  on  side  paths ;  r.  r.  on  s.  side  has  stsae 
ballast,  and  is  unridable.  I  fc^wed  it  24  m.  from  Lawrence,  then  returned  to  the  other  ade. 
From  Perryville  followed  r.  r.  to  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  as  dirt  roads  were  unridable  boa,  ran. 
HZsMMTA— Lee's  Summit,  27  m.  by  Missouri  Pacific  r.  r.,  mostly  ridable  to  Indepcndcnoe,  13 
m. ;  balance  mostly  unridable.  An  old  stage  road  runs  from  Kansas  City  to  St.  •Louis,  foBov- 
ing  the  r.  r.  to  Jefferson  City.  To  Otterville,  iii  m.,  by  suge  road;  prairie,  good  ha  dry 
weather.  Union,  209  m. ;  miserable,  bluffs,  stones,  sand  and  unbridged  creeks.  Gray*s  Soai- 
mit.  14  m. ;  stone  and  dirt  road  alongside  of  each  other,  former  mostly  unridable.  Sl  Lobs, 
38  m.,  same  as  last  for  8  m.,  then  fine  gravel  pike,  30  m.  N.  side  of  Missoori  riv.  b 
said  to  be  mostly  prairie  road,  and  I  advise  cyclers  to  take  it.  IlUnois. — ML  Carmel,  163  m. : 
mostly  prairie  road,  clay  and  sand  mixed ;  some  hills  near  Wabash  riv.  IndUma. — New  Albaej. 
■23  m. ;  about  50  m.  good,  ridable  road ;  balance  bluffs,  stony  and  sandy.  Kenhicky.^hodii- 
ville  to  Farmers*  Crossing,  142  m. ;  fine  pike.  Catlettsbuig,  70  m. ;  sandy,  stony,  and  sevctal 
mountain  ridges  to  cross.  H^*st  K^^Ai**.— Gauley  Bridge,  100  m. ;  valley  road,  sandy ;  4  in- 
bad  near  G.  B.  f7r^/iw«.— Staunton,  161  m.  A  worn-out  stage  road  leads  to  Coriogtoa. 
Between  these  two  points  there  are  the  Gauley,  Dogwood,  Big  Sewell  (8  m.  to  Summit).  Littk 
Sewell,  and  Mud  Creek  mtns.,  and  several  mountain  ridges.  The  All^haniea  lie  betweea 
Lewisburg,  W.  Va.,  and  Covington,  Va.,  and  are  mostly  ridable.  From  Covington  to  Goshes, 
38  m.,  there  is  scarcely  any  road,  the  railroad  side-path  being  best  for  the  bicycle.  There  arr 
several  rivers  to  ford.  In  this  way  I  crossed  the  Cow-Pasture  riv.  three  times,  and  the  Jacksoe 
riv.  once.  Goshen  to  Buffalo  Gap,  s  ">-  '•  t>^  branch  road  before  reaching  latter,  where  I 
struck  a  stage  road,  in  fair  condition,  leading  to  the  famous  Shenandoah  valley  pike  at  Mt.  SidneT 
(see  p.  353)  only  10  m.  n.  of  Staunton.  AforrAsiM/.— Hagerstown  to  Royerville,  15  m.,  pike, 
where  cross  South  mtn.,  6  m.,  pike  over  mountain  and  8  m.  dirt  road  to  Gettysburg,  Pa.  New 
Oxford,  10  m. ;  wom<out  pike ;  summer  road  alongside.  York,  18  m. ;  Columbia,  1 1  m. ;  Las- 
caster,  9  m. ;  New  Holland,  15  m.,  all  pike.     Pottstown,  a8  m.,  stone  and  dirt  mixed.** 

Dr.  H.  Jarvis  (b.  May  4, 1854)  reports  from  Oxford,  Md.  :  "  I  havs  lived  in  this  place  Cor 
ten  yean,  but  I  'wa«  born  at  St.  Paul.  I  started  thence  on  my  bicycle  July  10,  '83,  and  was  aboai 
26  days  on  the  vray  to  Baltimore,— say  23  days  of  actual  all-day  wheeling.  I  carried  no  ndom- 
eter,  but  I  estimate  that  more  than  1500  m.  were  traversed.  My  longest  day's  ride  was  not 
less  than  8s  m-d  think  it  was  nearer  95),  and  my  ahortest  was  3s  m.,  on  the  occasion  of  bciag 
stopped  by  a  rain-storm,  in  the  mountains  near  Deer  Park,  Md.  On  several  nights,  I  rode  as 
late  as  10  or  1 1  o*dadi,  and  for  twro  weeks  I  slept  comfortably  in  a  portable  tent  of  my  o«v  in- 


J 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROX/TES  AND  RIDERS,         487 

At  I  perqjure  very  freely,  and  had  some  warm  days  to  oootend  with,  I  lost  weight  at 
first,  bat  soon  regained  my  normal  condition.  I  drink  abundantly  on  the  road,  no  matter  what 
•onkc  riders  say  about  'one  glass  of  milk  being  enough.*  My  only  fall  on  the  entire  trip  was 
near  Piedmont,  caused  by  striking  a  kx)se  stone  while  coasting  a  short  hill.  This  bent  the 
crank  into  the  spokes,  but  did  no  harm  to  myself,  as  I  slid  off  sidewise  on  to  terra  firma.  I  also 
broke  out  three  spokes  by  catching  my  heel  in  them  on  three  separate  occasions,  but  had  no 
other  accidents.  I  resorted  to  trains  from  Chicago  to  Ft.  Wayne,  and  frcrni  Masaillon,  O.,  to 
Oakland,  Md.,  whence  I  wheeled  to  Hagerstown  and  Baltimore,  and  so  home.  My  other 
wheeling,  therefore,  was  from  St.  Paul  to  Chicago,  and  from  Ft.  Wayne  to  Massilkm.  The 
river  roads  from  St.  Paul  to  Hastings,  through  the  w.  skle,  and  thence  to  Winona  are  fair^nd 
gpod,  with  very  fine  vi^ws  of  the  Mississippi.  Entering  here  into  Wisconsin,  I  found  the  roads 
aoross  that  Sbte  to  Milwaukee  almost  all  ridable,  with  but  few  hills.  Thence  to  Chicago  the 
riding  is  quite  fair,  and  I  may  say  the  same  of  it  to  Ft.  Wayne.  From  there  through  to 
Wheeling,  W.  Va.,  it  is  more  or  less  hilly  and  rough;  thence  to  Frederick  quite  hilly  (some 
very  sharp  hills)  ;  but  between  F.  and  Baltimore  there  is  good  coasting.  My  wheel  was  a  sa-in. 
Eictraordinary;  and  between  June,  '80,  and  Oct.,  '83,  I  rode  it  in  the  following  fifteen  states : 
Mass.,  N.  Y.,  N.  J.,  Penn.,  Del.,  Md.,  Va.,  W.  Va.,  O.,  Ind.,  111.,  Mich.,  Wis.,  Minn.,  la., 
and  Dakou  Territory.  I  'm  inclined  tothmk  that  my  next  purchase  will  be  the  same  style  of 
machine  of  smaller  size ;  since,  after  actual  test  of  nnder-sixe  and  over«sise  wheels,  I  will  take 
the  under-sixe  at  all  times  for  all  kinds  of  work  on  the  road.  I  've  taken  interest  in  wheeling 
since  '76,  when  I  saw  the  first  bicycle  on  exhibition  at  Philadelphia ;  but  it  was  not  until 
the  fall  of  '79  that  I  procured  my  'Columbia,  No.  244,'  which  style  of  machbe  I  think  has 
never  had  an  equal  for  rough  wear  and  tear.  Mine  stood  many  miles  of  very  rough  running, 
wichoot  costing  anything  for  repairs,  except  a  handle4Mr  and  crank-shaft,  both  broken  by  falls  on 
wet  and  greasy  cobble-stones.  If  I  am  alive  in  the  summer  and  autumn  of  *86,  I  intend  to  make 
a  continuous  trail  with  the  tire  of  my  bicycle  from  Winnipeg,  in  Manitoba,  to  New  York  City." 
The  youngest  tourist  among  those  who  have  made  very  long  straighuway  trails  seems  to  be 
Gca  W.  Baker  (b.  Nov.  3,  1864),  of  the  St.  Louis  Ramblers,  who  pushed  a  48  in.  Victor  thence 
10  Boston,  July  i-aS,  '85,  without  serious  accident,  as  recorded  in  the  Wheel  and  Bi.  World  of 
Aug.  7,  and  Sfr.  Wk,  Com.  of  Sept.,  from  which  sources  I  condense  the  fb1k>wing  :  "  Colum- 
bus, 454  m.,  was  reached  on  the  mommg  of  the  9th,  a  daily  average  of  50  m.,  though  I  made 
the  80  m.  from  Terre  Haute  to  Indianapolis  (half  of  it  on  poor  roads)  in  8  h.,  thereby  breaking 
the  record  between  those  places.  My  k>ngest  ride  was  from  Erie  to  Bufhlo,  90  m.  in  is  h., 
whence  through  Albany  to  Boston  I  found  the  poorest  average  riding  of  all.  I  several  times  rode 
as  nnch  as  60  or  70  m.  in  a  day.  My  only  run  after  dark  was  from  Batavia  to  Leroy,  to  m. 
My  one  day's  ainess  apparently  resulted  from  a  change  in  the  drinking  water,  early  in  the  trip ; 
but  I  wheeled  so  ra.  that  day.  Rain  did  not  deter  me,  and  I  never  caught  cold.  I  found  my 
best  riding  hours  were  from  4  a.  m.  to  12,  and  I  rested  considerably  in  the  afternoons.  Estimat- 
ing my  resu  as  8|  days,  my  complete  riding-days  as  19  and  my  distance  as  1354  m.,  would  show 
an  avenge  daily  mileage  of  almost  71  m. ;  while  dividing  the  distance  by  the  full  28  days  of  the 
toor  would  still  show  an  average  of  nearly  48I  m.  I  took  six  headers  while  trying  to  ride  down 
a  single  hill  at  Ashtabula,  but  had  very  few  falls  on  level  ground.  My  baggage  was  strapped  be- 
Mnd  the  saddle  in  a  little  valise.  My  height  is  5  ft.  6 in.,  weight,  135  lbs., and  I  lost  hatdly  3  lbs. 
on  the  way.  I  was  forced  to  do  consklerable  walking  on  the  Ohio  roads.  Those  of  Illinob  were 
the  best."  He  has  sent  no  reply  to  repeated  letters  of  mine,  askingif  these  statementt  rest  npon 
his  anthority,  and  requesting  him  to  supply  a  table  of  daily  distances  and  halting-places ;  and 
■milar  enquiries  which  I  have  addressed  to  subscribers  in  St..  Louis,  and  to  the  editors  of  the 
cycling  papers  there,  for  fuller  details  of  this  remarkable  trip,  have  likewise  brought  no  response. 
The  mileage  from  St.  L.  to  Boston,  by  r.  r.  guide,  is  1228,  divided  thus  :  through  Terre  Haute 
to  Indianapolis,  264 ;  Qeveland,  283 ;  Bu£Ealo,  183 ;  Albany,  398.  [After  the  above  was  in 
type,  I  received  from  Mr.  B.  a  tabulated  report  (Jan.  14,  '86),  and  I  with  difficulty  make  room 
for  these  extracu  from  it :  "  My  cyclom.  broke  before  I  'd  gone  150  m.,  and  I  took  distances 
on  the  authority  of  people,  met  on  the  road,  who  were  supposed  to  know.    I  'm  sorry  now 


488  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  OuV  A  BICYCLE, 

I  did  n't  keep  a  record  of  a  great  many  things.  The  Ust  two  days  of  the  trq>  gave  a  loogcr 
mileage  (163)  than  any  other  two,  though  I  spoiled  the  oontinuity  of  it  by  taking  train  6  ■. 
through  Hooeac  tunnel,  rather  than  walk  9  m.  over  the  mtn.  I  was  from  4  a.  u.  to  ^,^ 
p.  M.,  in  wheeling  83  m.  from  New  Lebanon,  N.  Y.,  to  Athol,  besides  the  tunnel  ride,  and  1 
reached  Boston,  80  m.,  next  day  at  6.30  p.  m.  I  give  the  miles  of  each,  day's  ride,  with  the 
place  and  hour  where  it  ended  ('  p.  m.'  being  understood  unless  '  a.  m.'  is  exi»«ssed),  as  fol- 
lows: July  1,39,  Trenton,  4.30;  2d,  50,  Eggeratown,  6;  3d,  34,  Effingham,  4;  4th,  jo^  Tern 
Maute,5.3o;  sth,  10,  in  T.  H.;  6th,  80,  Indianapolis,  a.30;  7th,  70,  Richmond,  6^30;  8th,  5S, 
Springfield,  5 ;  9th,  44,  Coliunbus,  9.30  a.  m.;  loth,  65,  Bucyrus,  5  ;  nth,  so,  Plymoath,  3 ;  uih, 
6srElyria,  6  ;  13th,  ao,  Cleveland,  8.30  a.  m.;  14th,  50,  Geneva,  (a  to)6.3o;  15th,  50,  Erie,  5; 
t6th,  90,  Buffalo,  5 ;  17th,  Niagara  and  back  by  train ;  i8th,  57,  Leroy,  8 ;  X9th,  35,  CanandaigBa, 
5;  aoth,  22,  farm-house,  4;  aist,  55,  Syracuse,  3;  aad,  15,  ChiitenanglD,  (6.30  to)  8;  a3d,35, 
Utica,  II  A.  M.;  24th,  45,  Fort  Plain,  6;  asth,  65,  Albany  3  ;  a6th,  40,  New  Lebanon,  5;  aTth, 
8j,  Athol,  7.30 ;  38th,  80,  Boston,  6.30.  This  makes  a  total  of  1347  m.  I  was  ill  on  the  n^ 
of  loth  and  slept  only  a  little ;  rode  30  m.  on  the  i  ith,  though  feeling  very  weak,  and  on  lath  ooak- 
pkted  a  three  days'  run  of  1 40  m. ,  by  taking  a  bad  header.  I  still  carry  scars  from  the  faii«  i  lad 
at  Ashtabula  on  the  tsth.    Several  days  were  very  hot,  the  aad  showing  96*  in  the  shade."] 

One  of  the  earliest  long  tours  made  in  this  country  also  tenninated  at  Boston  (Oct.  1 1 ,  '80X  hav- 
ing been  begun  54  days  previously  at  Lima,which  is  71  m.  s.  of  Toledo,  130  m.  n.  of  Cinchmati,  aad 
about  30  m.  e.  of  the  Indiana  border.  The  BL  World  of  Dec.  3  gave  two  columns  to  a  report  of  k, 
from  a  talk  with  R.  W.  Parmenter,  and  thb  I  thus  condense  :  "  My  companion,  Charles  E.Canip> 
bell,  of  Lima»  rode  a  5a  in.,  while  I  rode  a  54  in.,  both  being  SUndard  Columbias,  recently  {vo- 
cured,  for  neither  of  us  had  ridden  100  m.  all  told.  My  weight  increased  from  133  to  145  lbs.  darii« 
the  trip.  We  startled  Aug.  19,  at  5  p.  m.,  and  rode  11^  m.  to  Cranberry ;  aoth,  Finley,  25  m. ;  sol. 
Tiffin,  a8  m. ;  lad,  Monroeville ;  a3d,  Norwalk,  4  m. ;  34th,  bad  clay  roads  for  ao  an.,— Of 
companion  breaking  down  and  going  to  Qeveland  by  train;  35th,  Qeveland;  STth,  Geneva; 
aSth,  Girard ;  30th,  Wcstfield.  Two  days  later,  my  companion  rejoined  me  at  Lake  Chautau- 
qua, and  oar  tour  continued:  Sept.  i,  Mayville  to  Silver  Creek;  ad,  Buffalo;  3d,  Niagara; 
4th,  Albion ;  5th,  Rochester ;  6th,  Clyde ;  7th,  Syracuse ;  9th,  Utica ;  loth.  Little  Falls;  nth, 
Schenectady ;  lath,  Albany.  The  road  was  bad  for  this  last  15  ro.,  and  for  most  of  the  way  we 
took  the  r.  r.  track ;  as  also  from  Utica  to  Little  Falls,  on  account  of  rain ;  while  from  Clyde  IQ 
Syracuse  we  mostly  tried  the  tow-path,  as  the  road  was  sandy  and  stony.  On  the  isth,  «e 
wheeled  30  m.  down  the  river  to  Hudson,  whence  on  i6th,  Mr.  Campbell  started  for  Boston, 
while  I  visited  New  York  and  the  Catskilla  till  Oct  6,  when  I  wheeled  37  m.  from  Hudson  10 
Mt.  Oray,  by  good  road,  with  only  one  large  hill ;  on  the  7th,  by  sandy,  stony  and  mountaiaoas 
roads  to  Westfield  ;  8th,  to  Springfield ;  9th,  to  Worcester ;  where  I  halted  a  day  and  then  rode 
to  Boston  on  Monday,  the  nth."  (By  referring  to  p.  201,  it  will  be  seen  that  I  left  Utica, 
going  w.,  on  the  morning  of  Sept.  9,  '80,  while  these  tourists,  coming  e.,  arrived  then  thai 
sama  night ;  but  I  failed  to  meet  them  or  to  hear  of  them.)  Though  the  BL  1VorldAiom%  thai 
Mr.  P.  rode  on  31  of  the  54  days,  it  esaggerates  the  distance  covered  to  "  about  1000  m.,"  and  says 
it  was  "  accomplished  in  about  30  riding  days,  or  an  average  of  50  m.  a  day."  Similar  vagoe and 
uncertain  phrases  were  used  in  the  papers  to  diaracterize  the  tour  which  Gale  Sherman,  of  the 
same  town,  took  to  Boston,  the  next  spring.  I  exdianged  a  few  words  with  him  there  at  the 
time  of  the  League  meet  in  May,  but  have  forgotten  what  he  said  as  to  the  proportioQ  of  hb 
journey  which  was  done  by  train ;  and  the  letter  of  enquiry  which  I  addressed  to  Lima  (Dec 
19,  '85)  brought  no  response,  from  either  him  or  Mr.  Parmenter.  The  same  fate  befell  my  let- 
ter of  same  date  to  another  tourist,  whom  I  met  on  the  same  occasion  :  W.  H.  Craigin,  of  Bos- 
ton, who  wheeled  from  Chicago  to  Wheeling,  in  the  autumn  following ;  then  sold  his  madiiae 
and  took  train  to  Washington,  where  I  met  him  again  at  the  close  of  my  own  autumn  ride 
"  along  the  Potomac  "  (Oct.  28,  '81,  see  p.  242).  I  remember  he  told  me  that  touring  had  sock 
a  fascination  for  him  that  he  had  decided  to  abandon  the  wheel  entirely  for  several  years,  as  the 
only  security  against  letting  his  love  for  it  get  the  better  of  his  desire  to  "  succeed  in  basiaes." 
He  felt  that,  if  he  trusted  himself  in  the  saddle  at  all,  he  could  hardly  resist  the  t«■t^.f■»lU■>  to 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         489 

**  oontiBinlly  go  a-touring."  A  report  of  his  journey,  with  the  titki  "  Chicago  to  Bocton/'  was 
continued  through  Kveral  numbers  of  the  BL  Woridt  over  the  signature,  "  Crookshanks." 

*'  Western  adventures  of  a  bicycle  tourist :  being  a  truthful  narration  of  a  trip  from  Dan- 
▼aie,  lU.,  to  Cheyeooe,  Wy.,  written  by  the  very  '  idjit  *  who  did  the  deed/'  was  the  title  of 
about  12,000  words  which  Will  Rose  printed  in  a  half-dosen  inues  of  his  weekly  paper,  the 
Tlffoth^k  (July  13  to  Aug.  17,  '83),  at  Ashmore,  III.,  concerning  his  tour  of  the  previous  ^a- 
son,  which  also  supplied  him  with  materials  for  a  public  lecture.  In  the  first  place,  he  adver- 
tised in  the  BL  fVprU  to  send  the  story  in  pamphlet  form  for  so  c. ;  but  those  who,  like  myself, 
far  warded  the  amount,  heard  nothing  from  it  for  several  months,  until  the  Toothpick  series 
auiived,  with  an  apologetic  remark  as  to  the  hopelessness  of  issuing  the  projected  book.  The 
litefary  quality  of  the  report  corresponds  very  well  with  its  chosen  tide,  but  such  few  facts,  dates 
ansd  exact  statistics  as  may  be  found  in  it  I  present  as  follows  :  '*  Started  the  middle  of  August, 
'8a  ;  was  six  weeks  on  the  road ;  traveled  about  1400  m.,  of  which  between  300  m.  and  400  m. 
was  hy  train  (on  short  jumps,  when  roads  were  unusually  bad,  because  of  mud,  hills  and  sand) ; 
ooat  ol  trip,  $140,  including  the  r.  r.  ticket  home ;  used  a  5a  in.  Standard  Columbia,  and  had 
had  only  three  weeks'  practice ;  route  lay  through  the  mud  to  Mattoon,  and  Lincoln,  then  by 
dryer  roads  to  Peoria,  Bureau,  and  Tishwilka ;  final  ^\  m.  to  Princeton  took  3  h.,  through  mud, 
and  while  I  waited  there  five  days  for  it  to  dry,  I  found  some  good  wheeling  in  and  around 
Hennepin,  on  e.  bank  of  Illinois  riv.  Friday,  Sept.  6,  I  rode  45  m.,  from  P.  to  Geneseo,  the 
fint  la  m.  being  very  good,  the  rest  exceedingly  rough  and  bumpy,  with  several  bad  swamps; 
yth,  sandy  and  difficult  for  about  30  ro.  to  Rock  Island,  at  5  p.  M.  *,  9th,  after  a  detour  to 
Moline,  5  m.  e.,  I  cross  the  Mississippi  to  Davenport,  and  have  good  roads  for  35  m.,  but  get 
tired  vi  the  hills,  and  so  take  train  to  Iowa  City ;  take  train  several  times  before  getting  to 
Grinnell,  on  the  nth;  between  there  and  Des  Moines  the  hills  are  many  and  big;  but  beyond 
the  roads  are  quite  good ;  and  after  Spending  several  days  in  Council  Bluffs  I  cross  the  Missouri 
10  Omaha,  on  the  i8th,  and  find  good  roads  to  Elkhorn  and  Central  Q'ty  (135  m.),  whence  I 
wheel  for  <Kttner  26  m.  to  Grand  Island,  and  20  m.  more  to  Wells  River  at  5  p.  m.  ;  and  next 
day  cover  6a  m.  to  Plum  Creek,  though  thrice  thrown  into  ruts  by  the  winds,  which  blow  in  Ne- 
biaaka  as  nowhere  else ;  one  of  these  falls  takes  the  tire  half  off  my  big  wheel,  and  the  other 
lames  me  in  the  knee, — ^the  only  hurt  of  my  trip ;  next  day  I  get  to  North  Platte,  partly  by 
train ;  thence  wheel  to  Ogallala ;  and  my  last  night  on  the  road  is  at  Sidney,  which  I  reach  late 
and  leave  eariy.  The  final  day  is  the  chilliest  of  all,  but  as  the  gravel  roads  are  quite  snxwth 
and  hard,  I  try  to  keep  warm  and  be  satisfied,  in  spite  of  the  terrible  loneaomeness  caused  by 
the  graveyard  silence  of  that  dreary  and  desolate  region  of  prairies ;  but  when  darkness  over* 
ukes  me  at  a  section-house  some  miles  from  Cheyenne,  I  board  a  freight  train  which  carries  me 
to  that  city  late  at  night.  The  Nebraska  air  was  very  exhilarating,  and  though  my  trail  through 
the  beamiful  Platte  valley  was  up-grade,  it  was  neariy  always  in  sight  of  the  r.  r.,  and  there  were 
no  hills  to  dimb.  Sometimes  the  surface  was  excellent ;  sometimes  only  moderately  good,  but 
hardly  ever  positively  bad,  except  where  patches  of  sand  were  found.  Much  riding  had  to  be 
done  in  the  wagon-track,  as  the  prairie  roads  generally  consist  of  a  big  ridge  in  the  middle,  with 
a  rut  on  each  side.  I  expressed  a  valise  ahead,  from  place  to  place,  as  I  think  it  a  nuisance  to 
have  a  m.  i.  p.  bag  or  other  bulky  object  strapped  to  the  bicycle.  I  also  recommend  a  tourist  on 
a  long  trip  to  ride  a  wheel  from  two  to  four  inches  under  size.*'  No  reply  came  to  my  enquiry 
lor  further  details  (Dec.  '85),  though  the  writer  subscribed  for  my  book,  early  in  '84. 

A  fortnight's  tour  of  686  m.  (July  15-29,  '84),  taken  by  H.  C.  Finkler,  Captain  of  the  San 
Frandaco  B.  C,  and  a  stenographer  by  profession,  comprised  the  exploration  of  more  than  350 
m.  of  Californian  roadway ;  and  the  report  which  he  sent  to  me  covered  ten  columns  in  the 
IKInr/(Nov.  ai,  38 ;  Dec  5,  '84),  from  which  I  condense  th6  following  :  "  My  wheel  was  a  52 
in.  light  roadster  (34  lbs.)  and  carried  25  lbs.  of  luggage,  and  for  the  first  three  days  I  was  acomi- 
panied  by  A.  M.  Wapple.  The  roads  were  in  fine  condition,  but  we  made  several  halts  and  de- 
loors  and  cross-cuts  over  rough  country,  so  that  our  mileage,  as  shown  each  night  by  odometer, 
itood  as  follows  :  15th,  San  Jose,  56!;  16th,  San  Felipe,  41;  17th,  Hollister,  24}.  On  the 
18th,  when  a  m.  from  H.,  I  forded  the  San  Benito  riv.,  which  has  a  muddy  and  quicksandy 


490  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

battom,  and  took  breakfast  at  San  Juan,  ^  m.  on,  before  walking  ttp  and  down  the  rom^  ai^ 
flteep  mountain  17I  m.  to  Salinas,  in  the  midst  of  adobe  roods,  whence,  after  lunch,  1  atastad 
towards  the  searcoast,  and  after  fording  the  Salinas  and  several  smaller  streams^  readied  the 
£1  Monte  Hotel  in  Monterey,  with  a  day's  record  of  55^  m.  of  pleasant  ridiqg  and  ' 
through  beautiful  scenery.  My  road  as  far  as  San  Jose  had  been  level*  and  sopeiUy  t 
and  the  r^ion  of  Monterey  boasts  50  ro.  or  more  of  sandpapered  and  polished  drirewaiys;  bat 
aa  soon  as  I  left  that  great  sea-side  resort,  monotonous  billows  of  sand  had  to  be  tramped  aoen, 
and  rough  farm<roads  of  hard  adobe,  so  that  my  record  of  the  iSth,  at  CastroviDe,  was  bat  2t| 
m.,  of  which  mudi  had  been  ridden  in  M.  before  startbg.  The  mooquitoes  caused  great  Xm^kt 
from  C.  to  Wataonville,  where  I  met  the  Gibson  brothers,  who  bad  wheeled  fnxn  S.  F.,  a^ 
who  induced  me  to  abandon  the  plan  of  continuing  up  the  coast  to  Santa  Cruz,  as  they  said  fhc 
sand  on  the  roads  would  make  progress  too  laborious.  So  I  struck  across,  through  the  <T»*r— 
and  Gray  ranches,  to  the  Santa  Clara  valley,  and  with  the  wind's  help  soon  reached  GSbof , 
whence  I  doubled  on  my  track  of  four  days  before  to  Madnme,  48^  m.  for  the  day.  TbeDoe, 
on  the  list,  by  my  former  perfect  road  for  18  m.  to  San  Jose,  where  at  10  I  began  a  dinb  of 
J5}  m.  to  the  Lick  Observatory  on  Mt.  Hamilton,  at  5^30  p.  m.  This  is  an  altitude  of  4440  ft, 
and  the  rise  of  the  last  7  m.  is  2J70  ft.  From  what  b  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  ap  a 
winding  grade,  of  about  6  ft  to  100,  for  the  final  6]  ro.  to  the  Observatory.  In  redraw 
through  a  heavy  fog,  I  took  a  crosscut  trail  to  the  brick-yard,  i  m.,  and  reached  Snaith's  0«k 
a  h.  after  leaving  the  tc^,  with  a  day's  record  of  55I  ra.  On  the  aad,  I  took  a  swift  spia  to 
Alum  rock  and  back,  before  breakfasting  at  the  Junction  House,  whence  I  returned  to  Saa  Jose 
for  a  short  stop  at  church,  and  then  continued  through  Melpetas  (6}  m.),  Waahingtoo  Coraixs 
(8|  m.),  San  Lorenxo  (i6|  m.),  Oakland  pier  (16  |  m.)»  and  so  across  to  the  startiqg-poiat  of  njr 
tour  at  5  p.  M., — making  83  m.  for  the  day,  which  was  cooled  by  gentle  showers,  and  380!  m.  far 
the  8  days,  during  which  I  traveled  in  the  counties  of  San  Frandsco,  San  Mateo,  Santa  Cfan, 
San  Benito  and  Alameda.  The  proposed  run  of  the  second  week  through  Marin  ooonty  frosi 
San  Rafael  had  to  be  abandoned,  because  the  rain,  which  continued  durii^  the  ajd,  made  ik 
roads  too  muddy ;  but  I  took  boat  to  Petaluma  instead,  and  at  6  a.  m.  <^  Jane  34,  stamd 
thence,  against  a  strong  n.  wind,  for  breakfast  at  Santa  Rosa,  16^  m.  For  the  next  16  m.  to 
Healdsbuig,  the  wind  rapidly  improved  the  roads,  which  are  of  gravelly  surface,  ao  that  tas 
days  later  they  would  stand  a  fair  comparison  to  the  finest  in  the  State.  Numeroos  bat  geadt 
grades  o£Eered  good  chances  for  coasting  during  the  next  18  m.  to  Qoverdale,  where  1  spent  ik 
night  (502  m.  for  the  day ;  434I  m.  for  the  tour),  except  those  near  the  '  Swiss-Italian  cokmr/ 
whoso  constant  wood-hauHng  had  made  things  rough  and  rutty.    As  far  as  Hoptown,  i6|  n., 

I  also  found  a  bumpy  adobe  surface  and  steep  hills,  on  the  asth,  and  I  had  to  ford  the  Roans 
riv.  before  reaching  Ukiah,  18  m.,  but  the  roads  were  then  good,  though  very  dusty,  to  Oc«e> 
land's  Mill,  8  m.  On  the  a6th,  after  riding  12  ro.,  I  came  in  si^t  of  the  Blue  lakes,  and  sped 
smoothly  aloi%  a  toll-road,  exhilarated  by  the  mountain  air  and  the  grandeur  of  the  aeenciy, 
until  at  last  I  coasted  down  a  gentle  slope  to  the  hotel  on  the  shore.  After  a  brief  hah  here,  I 
proceeded  by  fair  roads  14  m.  down-grade  to  Lake  Port,  on  Lake  Qear,  a  superb  piece  of  oaier 

II  m.  wide  and  37  m.  long,  where  I  halted  several  hours  for  a  sail  and  swim ;  and  then  went 
through  Kelseyville,  8|  m.,  to  Glenbrook,  11  m.,  for  the  night.  This  day's  surroundings  wen 
indescribably  attractive  :  mountainous  roads  winding  amid  steep  bluffs  and  deep  cafions,  jkA 
enchanting  views  of  the  lake  at  every  turn ;  but  pleasanter  than  all  was  the  fact  of  my  ovenak* 
ing  three  fellow-wheelmen  at  G.,  who  had  left  Petaluma  two  days  in  advance  of  myself,  and 
been  dehiyed  by  bad  weather  and  a  broken  bicycle.  The  trio  were  Geoige  Rideout,  EreeM 
Rideout  and  A.  H.  Cowen,  the  first  of  whom  took  train  home  next  day  to  S.  F.,  while  the  e(hs 
two  wheeled  with  roe  to  Napa,  56  m.  We  spent  the  forenoon  in  walking  over  the  ^  Hckna 
mtn.  to  Calistoga,  28  m.,  where  we  were  fairly  in  the  beautiful  Napa  valley,  and  weooterad 
the  next  9  m.  to  St.  Helena  in  f  h.,  for  the  road  is  the  best  in  this  n.  part  of  the  State,  sad  ii 
continues  lair  to  Napa,  with  occasional  bumpy  patches.  We  took  an  early  start  on  the  aSdi, 
and  finished  61  m.,  through  the  Sacramento  valley,  at  DaviaviUe,  at  6  P.  m.,  after  mc 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS. 


491 


teg,  oodpled  with  frq;htful  heat  and  aumerons  tormenting  inaectB,--^be  mtennadiate  points  be- 
\a%  CordeUa,  15I  m. ;  Fabiield.  8  in.  (at  11  o'clock);  Elmira,  14  m. ;  and  Dixon,  xa|  m.  On 
the  S9th,  we  made  an  excursion  to  Woodland  and  bade  (35  ro.)>  and  then  took  can  home  for 
S.  F., — thoi^h'  I  stopped  over  at  Sacramento  long  enough  to  do  so  m.  of  wheeling  between  there 
and  Riverside.  My  six  days'  mileage  thus  amoonted  to  303),  and  included  six  counties : 
Sonoma,  Mendocino,  Lake  Napa,  Solano,  Yolo  and  Sacramento;  and  I  gained  5I  lbs.  during 
the  fortnight's  tour  of  686}  m.  through  eleven  counties." 

Another  notable  fortnight's  tour  in  California  (April  la-as,  '85  ;  369  m. ;  reported  in  Spr, 
WTL  Ga9.,  Aug.  '85,  pp.  63-64)  was  taken  by  Ernest  Rideout  (b.  July  as,  1865)  with  his  brother 
Walter  (b.  July  xi,  1867),  to  the  Yosemite  Valley ,~their  first  day's  route  covering  nearly  the 
same  ground  as  the  last  day's  of  the  tour  just  given,  but  in  an  opposite  direction :  **As  the  road 
from  S.  F.  to  South  Vallejo  is  in  very  poor  condition  b  April,  we  went  thither  by  steamer,  and 
loand  fayiy  good  riding  through  North  Vallejo  to  the  Four  Mile  House,  6  m.,  whence  we 
walked  most  of  the  11  m.  to  Cordelia,  or  Bridgeport,  for  dinner  at  xs.sa  We  speeded  thence 
to  Suisnn,  6  m.  in  |  h. ;  to  Elmira,  la  m.  of  fair  road,  at  4,  and  to  Dixon,  by  poorer  ones  at  7, 
when  we  stopped  at  the  Arcade  House.  The  main  road  along  here  is  a  pleasant  one,  but 
there  are  so  many  side-tiadcs  that  the  tourist  is  apt  very  frequently  to  bring  up  against  a  farm 
gate,  which  compels  him  to  turn  back  and  begin  again.  After  passing  Davisville  at  9  a.  m.  of 
the  tjth,  we  obeyed  the  advice  of  a  bad  boy,  who  directed  us  across  the  fields  to  the  '  top 
raad,'  which,  when  reached  after  many  difltoilt  miles,  proved  scarcely  waJkable  on  account  of 
deep  mud,  and  led  across  three  bridgdess  streams,  where  we  had  to  strip  and  wade,  with  our 
dothes  and  wheels  above  our  heads.  We  reached  Sacramento  at  3  p.  m.,  completely  used  up, 
with  a  diyV record  of  36  m. ;  but  «rere  fresh  for  a  new  start  on  the  x4th,  and  reached  Elk  Grove, 
■8|  m.,  in  4I  h.,  just  before  noon,  in  spite  of  straying  into  by-paths,  and  meeting  deep  ruts  whidi 
forced  us  to  walk.  Walter's  headers,  to  this  point  of  the  tour,  numbered  just  eight ;  and  his  new 
President  bicyde  suffered  in  handles  and  pedals,  while  an  injury  to  one  crank  forced  the  shorten- 
ing up  of  both.  Halting  a  h.  for  dinner,  we  rode  ra|  m.  to  Gait,  in  \\  h. ;  reached  Woodbridge, 
7^  m.,  at  4.30,  and  Stockton,  15  m.,  at  6.35.  We  stopped  a  day  at  S.,  which  is  the  real  point  of 
departure  for  the  Yosemite  run  (our  preliminary  visit  to  Sacramento  being  chiefly  for  the-sake 
of  seeing  friends  on  the  way),  and  on  the  t6th  reached  Farmii^on,  17}  m.,  by  good  road,  at 
■0.15,  Knight'a  Ferry,  ao}  m.,  at  3,  and  Cloudman's,  or  John  Curtain's,  at  6.30.  On  the  17th, 
up  hill  by  rough  roads  to  Chinese  Camp,  8  m.  (7.10  to  10.30);  then  a  still  tougher  ascent  for  13 
m.  to  Priest's  (induding  one  hill  which  had  to  be  walked  up  for  3  m.);  then  3  m.  to  Grovdand, 
during  which  we  twice  waded  the  Tuolumne  riv.,  besides  crossing  it  by  ferry  (35  c.)  at  Jackson- 
TiHe.  We  each  had  to  pay  50  c.  toll  on  the  road,  for  this  is  exacted  d  every  one,  whether  walk- 
ing or  riding.  On  the  18th,  to  Crocker's,  33!  m.  (6.30  a.  m.  to  3.40  t.  11.),  with  grand  scenery  all 
the  way,  but  no  houses.  Here  we  got  the  best  meals  we  had  had  since  leaving  Stockton ;  and, 
as  we  were  now  well  up  in  the  mountains,  the  ^ing  snow  caused  a  delay  in  our  start,  on  the 
morning  of  the  19th,  and  afterwards  drove  us  to  the  shelter  of  a  deserted  log-cabin.  The  cold 
stopped  the  working  of  my  cyclometer;  but  the  distance  from  Crodcer's  to  Crane's  Flat  is  8  m. , 
and  the  summit  is  i  m.  beyond,  followed  by  a  desoent  of  14  m.  into  the  valley.  We  couldn't 
ride  orach,  on  account  of  the  snow  and  the  cold ;  and  at  one  time  we  were  almost  frozen.  Ice 
formed  all  over  our  bicydes  and  prevented  the  wheels  from  revolving,  until  we  picked  it  away 
with  our  knives.  After  a  stretch  of  this  sort  of  traveling,  the  roads  became  clearer,  and  allowed 
OS  10  ride,  until,  at  a  certain  bend  in  the  road,  we  suddenly  saw  the  famous  valley  smiling  at 
our  feet,  in  all  its  loveliness,  though  4  m.  of  steep  descents  remained  before  we  really  reached 
it,  and  put  up  at  the  Barnard  House.  The  backbone  of  Walter's  machine  broke  on  the  way 
down,  and  we  took  turns  in  trundling  it  until  we  reached  a  blacksmith,  who  dumsily  welded  it 
together,  at  a  charge  of  ^5.  Our  mileage  for  the  seven  days  was  351},  of  which  i  x8^  represented 
the  (fistance  from  Stockton.  Having  visited  Bridal  Veil  falls  and  Mirror  lake,  we  gave  the  rest 
of  the  day  to  scaling  Glader  point  (covered  with  snow),  whence  we  couM  see  the  Vernal  and 
Nevada  falls,  and  almost  everything  else  in  this  indescribably  splendid  valley ;  and  at  7  a.  m.  of 
April  31  resumed  our  bicydes  for  the  return.    We  reached  Crocker's  at  3.30  p.  m.,— the  cydom- 


492  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

eter,  which  had  thawed  oat  whUe  in  the  ^ley,  givinc  the  dutanoe  as  aj  in.,-^-aiid  apcM  tte 
•econd  night  at  Groveton,  in  order  to  fix  the  tire  of  Walter's  little  wheel,  whkfa  sUiinieJ  oil 
when  6  m.  from  there.  Next  morning  he  bent  his  handle-bar  by  a  fall  and  then  broke  it,  id  try- 
tog  to  poll  it  straight ;  and  my  own  r.  handle-bar  snapped  off  on  the  3stl>»  while  ooasting  a  faofl, 
in  less  than  a  m.  after  starting  Irom  Knight's  Ferry  at  6  a.  m.,  and  within  half  a  mile  after  say 
pushing  off  a  pedal.  Rigging  up  a  wooden  handle,  to  correspond  with  Walter's,  I  rode  s  ^- 
further  with  one  pedal,  and  then  fitted  in  a  carriage-bolt  which  served  in  place  of  the  other  an 
far  as  Fanntngton,  where  I  took  one  of  Walter's,  and  reached  Stockton  at  a  r.  m., — be  gion^g 
thither  by  train  (as  the  welded  backbone  was  nearly  ready  to  fall  apart  again),  and  both  off  ■■ 
thence  home  together.  The  bicyde  used  on  this  tour  was  my  old  Expert,  which  bad  beea 
through  many  a  campaign ;  and  its  brake-^>oon  was  half  worn  away  when  the  tour  ended.** 

The  earliest  all«day  ride  in  California  seems  to  have  been  the  one  described  in  the  Mormmg 
Cail^s  taken  on  Sunday,  June  15,  '79,  from  San  Francisco  (Twentieth  and  Mission  ata^X  as  7 
A.  M.,  to  San  Jose,  at  1.30  p.  M.,  with  halu  amounting  to  i  h.  50  min.  The  first  stretch,  ts 
Cooma,  was  roughest,  and  required  much  walking ;  the  Ust,  from  Santa  daia,  was  smoothest 
and  swiftest.  The  people  all  along  the  route  were  as  kind  and  hospitable  as  they  were  cnriom 
and  admiring ;  and  the  "  time  "  was  sent  back  by  telegraph.  Great  surprise  was  expreaaed  at 
the  fact  of  wheeling  so  silently  through  a  flock  of  aoo  sheep,  which  were  resting  in  the  road, 
that  only  one  of  them  got  up  to  move  away.  This  was  the  first  long  ride  ever  taken  by  Fred 
T.  Merrill  (b.  1858),  who  is  now  of  the  firm  o£  Hollister  &  Merrill,  proprietors  of  the  North- 
west stencil  and  rubber-sUmp  works,  at  Portland,  Or.,  and  whose  personal  report  to  me  (Sept. 
tjf  '84}  is  as  follows  :  "  I  have  kept  no  record  of  my  out-door  riding ;  in  fact,  have  not  iniliilgjul 
in  a  great  deal  of  it.  I  once  took  a  round-trip  from  S.  F.,  with  F.  W.  Caples,  of  that  city,  to 
Sanu  Cruz,  Monterey,  Watsonville,  Gilray,  San  Jose  and  home ;  and  once  with  A.  A.  BemaeCt, 
of  S.  F. ,  climbed  over  the  Sierra  Nevadas  to  Reno,  300  m.  in  6  days  (see  p.  470 ;  also  Wkeei^  Feb. 
6,  '8s).  Most  of  the  Oregon  roads  are  inferior  to  those  of  California,  though  I  've  not  yet  tried 
150  m.  of  them.  I  learned  to  ride  the  bone-shaker  in  Boston,  14  years  ago,  and  have  ps^akad 
on  it  or  the  bicycle  pretty  steadily  ever  since.  I  've  appeared  in  public  for  about  10  yeacsi,  and 
during  that  time  have  ridden  80  weeks  at  Woodward's  Gardens,  in  S.  F. ,  carrying  my  two  brotfaets 
on  my  shoulders,  one  above  the  other.  WhUe  there,  also,  I  gave  a  qiedal  pesfonaanoe  before 
the  King  of  the  Sandwich  IsUnds,  6  yean  ago.  In  these  ways  I  have  earned  the  title  of  '  pixiles- 
sional  champion  trick-bicycler  of  the  Pacific  coast.'  I  have  taught  180  men  and  ts  women  bow 
to  ride  the  bicycle,  and  I  intend  to  open  another  school  at  the  Mechanics'  Pavilion,  next  'irinter. 
In  last  winter's  race  here,  I  covered  as6  m.  in  21  h.,  on  a  50  in.  Expert  (46  lbs.).  I 'vejost  now 
returned  from  '  doing  the  county  fairs,'  and  I  expect  to  continue  riding  for  many  years  to  come." 

A  notable  run  of  100  m.  in  la^  h.  was  made  by  H.  C.  Finkler,  July  3,  *84,  "  to  see  bow 
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  seoood  tbe 
mileage :  "  Start  7.35,  Mission  and  Twenty-sixth  sts.,  o;  9,  Fourteen  Mile  House,  ir} ;  9.15, 
D.  O.  Mills's  Villa,  at  Millbrae,  13^;  10,  Belmont  Hotel,  22;  10.45,  Redwood  City,  25];  11.15, 
Menlo  Park,  39!  ;  ii.as,  Palo  Alto,  31^;  11.45,  Mayfield,  34};  ta,  Mounuin  View,  39I;  1.05 
p.  M.,  Sanu  Clara,  47S  '*  «*o»  San  Jose,  51I ;  3,  Coyote,  63!;  3.30,  Madrone,  69! ;  5.15,  Giboy, 
8ii ;  6.S5i  San  Felipe,  91} ;  8,  HoUister,  loc^.  At  the  outset  of  the  route,  which  was  a  odd- 
tiuuation  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  1^  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  tn.  per  h.,  and  the  ride  brought  my  total  vacation  mileage  up  to  TSy." 
This  is  the  longest  straighuway  run  yet  reported  in  California ;  though  greater  number  of  m.  in 
I  a  h.  have  since  been  traversed  upon  the  same  roads.  Thus,  the  Bi.  V^^Hd  (Apr.  24,  '85) 
printed  a  report  of  150  m.  ride  taken  by  Wm.  J.  Bowman,  of  Oakland  B.  C,  to  Gilray  and  badi, 
surting  Sunday,  March  aa,  at  7.30  A.  m.,  and  finishing  Monday  at  r  a.  m.,  with  tests  that  ve^ 
dnced  his  time  in  the  saddle  to  ts  h.  as  min.    "  His  first  dismount  was  ma^^  ^1  Uw  pabKc 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         493 

,  in  front  of  St  James  Hotel,  in  San  Jose  (45  m.)«  at  11.15,— the  times  at  previons  points 
beinf:  San  Lorenx*,  8.30;  Mt.  £den,  8.45;  Alvarado,  9.05;  Centerville,  9.30;  Washington 
Cornen,  9.55.  He  reached  Gilroy  (30  m.)  at  3  r.  m.,  having  pushed  against  a  heavy  wind  for 
last  18  m.,  and  made  one  stop  of  4  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  6.10  p.  11. ;  and  his  record  then 
■tocxl  at  105  m.  for  9  h.  ao  min.  of  actual  riding.  He  rode  slowly  for  the  final  45  m.  (6.ao  r.  m. 
to  ■  A.  M.,  with  three  rests  of  4  h.  each),  to  his  home  at  Ninth  and  Grove  sto.,  Oakland,  17^  h. 
from  the  start,  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  a,  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  aoo  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  »^AM/(Aug.  aS,  '8$),  "  J.  £.  Gibson,  Capt.  of  Garden  Qty  B.  C,  San  Fran-  ' 
Cisco,  made  an  attempt  to  beat  the  34  h.  nMuUecord  of  207}  m.  which  was  won  in  May  by  K. 
R.  Cook.  Starting  at  8.05  a.  m.,  July  39,  he  completed  an  m.  at  8  a.  m.  of  the  3o(h,  though 
we  judge  by  the  reporUthat  he  rode  more  than  twice  over  the  same  stretch  of  roadway,>-a  repre- 
hensible practice  which  the  League  radng  board  should  legislate  against."  The  Bi.  Worlds 
said :  '*  We  do  not  learn  that  J.  £.  Gibson,  of  San  Jose,  took  any  method  to  verify  his  route  and 
djsranrrn  of  July  a9.'*  My  letters  to  both  riders,  requesting  details,  have  brought  no  response. 
A  laigCT  share  of  attention  was  given  in  the  press  to  the  ride  of  Fred  Ross  Cook  (b.  Nov. 
9^  i86tX  which  was  more  carefully  managed,  and  about  which  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  \  m.  in  1.S94,  on  a  soft  clay  track. 
His  he^ht  is  5  ft  9  in.,  weight  about  170  lbs.,  and  hb  portrait  was  printed  in  Spr.  Wk.  Gam. 
(Jan.,  '85)1  He  now  rides  a  S4  in.  Victor,  the  same  which  served  him  in  making  the  long  record. 
Leaving  Folaom  and  Twenty-first  sta.  at  1.30  P.  m.  (May  a,  '85),  he  went  without  stop  to  San 
Jose  at  5.33,— <i  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. 
Hb  paper  was  signed  at  the  start  by  C.  A.  Kellogg ;  at  Belmont  (23  m.  at  3. 15)  by  A.  Waiter- 
mire,  while  he  circled  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  next  9  m.  b  rolling  and  a  little  sandy;  but  the  next  a8  m.,  B.  to  S.  J.,  b  the  finest 
stretch  of  country  road  we  have,  and  he  covered  it  at  very  nearly  the  rate  of  14  m.  per  h.  The 
other  route,  leading  down  the  e.  side  of  the  bay  (Oakland  to  S.  J.)  offers  fewer  hilb  but  poorer 
riding.  Thence  to  Gilroy  he  had  10  m.  of  fine  surface  and  ao  m.  of  poor  patches.  Waiting  at 
G.  till  9,  for  the  moon  to  rise,  a  fog  came  instead  and  then  a  wind  sprang  up  against  him,  so 
that  he  was  5  h.  on  hb  way  back  to  S.  J.  (paper  signed  by  M.  Cbselino  at  a  a.  m.),  and,  passing 
afpdn  through  Belmont,  reached  MiUbrae,  34^  m.,  at  6.14  a.  m.  (signed  by  J.  J.  Callahan),  being 
met  on  the  way  by  W.  M.  Meeker,  who,  after  breakfast,  accompanied  him  back  to  S.  J.  (signed 
at  ioi3oby  G.  R.  Bailey),  where  dinner  was  taken,  and  the  final  return  made  to  Belmont,  ^^\ 
ro.,  7X  i.a8  p.  M.  (signed  by  A.  Waltermire),  making  a  total  of  %ivj\  m.,  in  19  h.  38  min.  of  ac- 
tnal  riding.  Hb  signers  all  resided  near  the  r.  r.  stations,  where  the  time  is  kept  accurately,  and 
corresponded  in  each  case  with  hb  own  watch,  which  did  not  vary  a  minute.  He  had  probably 
^kme  taoo  m.  of  road-riding,  thb  year,  before  the  kmg  ride,  and  so  was  feeling  pretty  well ;  and 
he  attended  to  buriness  as  usual,  the  day  after  it,  without  showing  any  signs  of  weariness." 

'With  thb  may  be  compared  the  straightaway  record  made  on  the  same  road  by  Joseph  L. 
Bley  (b.  Oct.  as,  1873),  whose  exploit  seems  to  place  him  well  ahead  of  all  other  kmg-distance 
tourisls  who  are  not  yet  a  dosen  years  old  I  The  following  story  b  condensed  from  hb  letter  to 
me  of  Oct  4,  '85  :  "  My  bicycle  b  of  the  cheap  iron  kind  called  *  Ideal,'  38  in.  and  38  lbs., 
and  I  firat  began  riding  it  in  Aug.,  '84.  I  myself  weigh  6a  lbs.  and  am  4  ft  4i  in.  high.  I  often 
ride  after  sdiool,  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  1  m.  race  for  boys 
under  16,  and  was  only  \  sec.  behmd  the  winner,  Geo.  Dixon,  aged  15,  who  rode  a  sa  in.  wheel. 


494 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


and  whose  time  was  4.23I.  Encounifi^ed  by  this,  I  coaxed  my  parents  to  let  rae  attempt  a  bicy- 
cle tour  of  150  m.,  to  my  aunt's,  at  Salinas.  I  left  home  (Ellis  st.  and  Van  Ness  av.)  Jnly  at,  at 
It  o'clock,  with  my  cousin,  Mr.  Gambits,  and  we  got  to  San  Jose  at  5  p.  m.  (5a  m.),  tbo<q^  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  ^oes  and  a  straw  hat,  and  took  extra  underdotbing  in  a  \v^ 
gage-carrier.  We  left  S.  J.  at  6  a.  m.  of  the  2ad,  but  returned  again,  to  have  a  blaHcmnith  fix 
my  cousin's  bicycle,  whose  backbone  broke  at  the  head;  and  we  spent  1  h.  in  clambering  to  the 
top  of  the  San  Juan  mtn.,  about  2  m.,  with  a  gale  of  ice-cold  wind  in  our  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 
cramp  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  r.  m.,— 
making  98  m.  for  the  la  h.  I  did  not  keep  munt  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  da3rs  later  for  Moi»- 
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  bicyde,  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., — ^**  Walntit,  Locust  and  Sixth  stsi 
form  its  other  three  borders.  It  is  now  well  kept,  with  grass^ilots  and  pretty  flowers.  Its  b% 
trees  are  historic  The  pavement  is  of  flagstones,  which  are  pretty  even,  tbot^h  the  coroefs  are 
somewhat  sharp.  Bicycling  within  its  limits  is  against  the  law,  but,  as  my  home  is  hanOy  a 
stone's-throw  away  (281  S.  4th),  I  often  ride  there  at  night  after  10  o'dock,  and  no  one  ever 
tries  to  stop  me.  About  5  laps  make  i  m  ,  and  the  swiftest  hour's  ride  I  ever  anywhere  took 
(15  m.)  was  on  the  Square,  between  9  and  xo,  p.  m.,  Jan.  s,  '85."  Such  was  the  answar  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  <dd.  This  is  W.  B.  Page  (b.  Feb. 
23.  1866),  a  stxident  in  the  class  of  '87  at  the  Univ.  of  Penn.,  wdiose  recent  athletic  exploits  are 
matters  of  record  in  the  "  Clipper  Almanac."  Chief  of  these  was  the  "  running  high  jomp  of 
6  ft.  \  in.  (5^  in.  higher  than  his  own  head),  which  ranks  as  the  third  best  in  the  worid."  His 
bent  for  out -door  life  seems  hereditary,  as  his  father,  S.  Davis  Page,  was  an  enthnsiastic  rowing 
man  at  Yale,  and  executive  chief  of  the  boat  dub  during  the  year  of  his  graduatiaa  (*S9),  whee 
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  meuMnanda  of  his 
travels.  No  other  contributor  to  thb  book  has  prepared  so  systematic  and  complete  a  stoiy  cob- 
ceming  so  many  miles  of  roadway,  and  I  regret  the  need  of  omitting  from  it  a  number  ol  iittcr- 
esting  details :  "  It  was  in  '79  that  I  bought  a  little  bone*ehaker,  and  taught  myself  how  to 
ride,  in  Washington  Square.  I  took  it  with  me  to  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  where  I  qient  the 
next  two  summers,  and  rode  it  400  m.  there  in  '80  and  370  m.  in  *8i.  My  best  record  was  12  m.  n 
I  h.,  Winchester  to  Millwood,  racing  with  a  horse  which  I  kept  ahead  of  until  the  last  400  yds., 
when  be  drew  past.  In  May,  '82,  I  bought  a  52  in.  Standard  Cdumbia  (No.  5730),  and  il  sow 
leans  against  the  wall  where  I  write,  looking  not  much  the  worse  for  wear,  though  I  *ve  poihrd 
it  6681  m.»  in  7  different  States.  It  is  a  painted  machine,  whose  bright  parts  I  always  keep  ckaa 
and  free  from  rust,  and  I  hope  to  make  it  see  me  through  many  more  summer  tours.  I  tbiek 
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  record  was  2784  m.  Outside  of  the  loncvacatisn 
tours  in  summer,  my  mileage  does  not  amount  to  much,  as  I  do  no  radng  and  cannot  oftts 
leave  my  university  studies  to  get  out  for  a  long  ran.  I  train  for  jum|Mng,  dnring  sudi  leinre 
as  I  have  in  the  spring ;  but  I  think  my  suooeas  at  this  is  in  no  small  degree  dae  to  ray  indirect 
training  on  the  whed.  My  touring  costume  consists  of  gray  shirt  and  breeches  (without  nnde^ 
dothes),  dark  stockings,  stout  shoes,  and  a  white  helmet  with  a  streamer  that  extends  8  or  w 
in.  back  of  my  head.    In  my  bag,  I  carry  a  complete  cyding  suit  of  dark  blue,  whke  flanad 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         495 

«liir«,  polo  cap,  pair  of  pumps,  imderdothing  and  toilet  articles,— the  whole  weighing  15  lbs.  or 
asore.  llie  bag  is  of  my  own  oomtructiony-^iS  in.  long  by  6  in.  deep,  and  tapenng  in  breadth 
front  10  in.  at  the  top  to  6  at  the  bottom,  with  the  tool<aae  slang  below.  In  order  to  dear  all 
this,  I  have  to  vault  into  the  saddle,  but  I  account  that  the  quickest  and  therefore  the  best  way 
a<  moonting  while  on  a  tour,  no  matter  what  the  surface  of  the  road  may  be.  As  I-enjoy  fine 
scenery,  I  plan  my  routes  to  include  as  much  of  it  as  possible ;  and  as  I  am  of  aodafale  dispoei- 
tioo,  I  also  endeavor  to  visit  a  goodly  number  of  summer  resorts.  The  outfit  in  my  bag  allows 
ms  to  make  a  presentable  appearanee  in  a  hotel-parlor  or  dancing-hall,  and  at  the  same  time  get 
asy  riding  dothes  waafhed  for  the  next  day.    My  lamp  is  a  laige  size  '  King  of  the  Road.* 

"  1  spent  the  summer  of  '83  at  Winchester,  the  same  as  the  two  previous  ones;  and  while 
there  wheeled  to  Lexington  and  back  (three  days  each  way,  with  a  week's  visit  to  fnends  be> 
tween),  a  roand  trip  of  390  m.,  sdiich  was  not  bad  for  a  boy  of  16.  My  other  riding 
amounted  to  750  m.,  making  the  year's  mileage  1040.  The  firat  day  of  ray  tour  ended  at  New- 
market,  50  m.  in  12  h.  (8  h.  of  riding),  and  the  second  at  Staunton,  44.  m.  The  36  m^  thence 
to  Lexingtms  is  a  rough  and  hilly  stretch  which  had  never  before  been  traveraed  by  bicyde ; 
bat  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  rklers  who  came  over  the  ground  a  month  later  denounced  me  in  their  re- 
port in  the  iVktelmaM  for  making  so  preposterous  a  daim  (see  p  349  for  quoted  allusion  to  '  a 
cjrclinK  Ananias  *).  As  they  also  expressed  surprise  that  such  a  prodigious  tourist  should  '  have 
to  be  carried  to  the  Natural  Bridge  in  a  wagon,'  I  may  as  well  mention  the  fact  that  I  walked  to 
it  from  L.  and  back  again  in  a  sinj^e  day  (a  round  trip  of  30  m.),  not  taking  my  wheel  on  ao- 
oount  of  the  mud ;  and  that  I  covered  the  last  6  m.  in  i  h.  ro  min.,  which  rate  of  qseed  I  hardly 
think  any  of  the  trio  woukl  have  improved  upon,  as  they  preferred  to  take  train  from  the 
Bridge  back  to  Staunton.  I  might  well  have  returned  by  train  also,  for  I  had  a  wretched  day's 
tag  back  from  L  to  S.,  through  the  rain-aoaked  day,  walking  all  but  a  m.  near  Fairfield.  In 
1S83,  my  touring  was  somewhat  longer, — ^the  outward  trip  to  Capon  Springs,  a4a  m.,  begin- 
ning July  6,  and  the  homeward  trip  of  172)  m.  beginning  at  Winchester,  Sept  7.  Between  times, 
I  rode  30a  m.  in  Vxrginia  (90  m.  by  lamp) ;  and  ray  home  wheeling  was  879  m  for  the  first  \ 
and  152I  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  Coatesville ;  and  on  the  7th,  though  rain  fell  all  day,  I  migh\  have  got  to 
Lancaster  by  keeping  to  the  pike,  but  I  tried  the  muddy  Valley  road,  and  had  to  stop  at  the 
(^ap,  sa  ra.  On  the  8th,  I  vrent  17^  m.  for  breakfast  at  L.;  34  m.  for  a  late  dinner  at  York 
at  6  p.  M.,  and  then  18^  m.  to  New  Oxford,— Hhe  final  half  by  lamp.  On  the  9th,  I  was  a  h. 
in  doing  10  m.  of  poor  road  to  Gettysburg ;  then  from  4  to  6  p.  m.  on  the  next  10  m  to  the  foot  of 
the  Bhie  Ridge,  which  I  wheeled  up  for  3^  m.  with  leas  trouble  than  I  descended  to  Fayetteville, 
^4hoogh  I  made  no  dismount  for  that  final  to  m.  of  perfectly  strange  road  except  to  light  my 
bunp  on  the  summit  On  the  loth,  by  6  m.  of  hmestone  pike  to  Chambersbnrg  (p.  344)  and  tiro, 
of  mod  road  to  Greencastle.  On  the  nth,  in  i}  h.  to  Williamsport,  14  ro.,  with  only  one  dis- 
raooBt;  the  next  14  m.  to  Martinsburg  in  if  h.;  and  Winchester,  aa  m.,  at  6  p.  m.,  though  I 
took  the  ¥nong  road  for  4  m.  out  of  M.  A  few  days  after  this,  I  wheeled  to  Capon  Springi 
and  back,  a  round  trip  of  58  m.,  of  which  the  first  la  m.  on  the  Romney  pike  was  good,  and 
the  last  If  QL,  beyond  Rock  Erin  Springs,  was  very  bad.  I  was  the  first  man  to  push  a  bicy- 
de throogh  to  either  place.  Lighting  my  lamp  at  Winchester  at  3  a.  m.  of  Sept.  7,  I  passed 
Mutinsbm^  at  5.15,  and  halted  50  mm.  for  breakfast  at  WilHamsport  (36  m.)  at  7.50;  then 
through  Hagerstown  (6  m.),  Greencastle  (la  m.,  partly  bad  clay)  and  Manon  to  Chambersborg 
(ir  m.)  for  dinner  at  1.30;  then  a  tough  pull  over  the  mountains  for  a6  m.  to  Gettysburg,  3  to 
7.45  p.  M.,  for  supper ;  finaUy,  by  lamp,  7.45  to  9.30,  across  a  wretched  road,  to  New  Oxford 
(Ea(^  Hotel)— "With  a  total  straightaway  mileage  of  101,  to  represent  14  h.  of  riding.  Dur* 
ing  nest  two  days,  I  wheeled  43^  ra.  to  Lancaster,  and  then  39  m.  from  Coatesville  to  Bryn 
Mawr,— the  constant  downpour  forcing  me  to  take  cars  for  the  intermediate  disunces. 

"  In  1884,  my  outward  trip,  July  a-aa,  led  to  Pittsboi^  (the  first  one  ever  taken  from  end 
to  end  of  Pennsyhailia)  and  thence  to  Winchester,  553  m.;  my  homeward  trip,  Sept.  9-13, 


496  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

was  33 1|  dl;  and  between  the  two  I  rode  665  m.  in  VirginU, — making  1399^  for  the   tacatiua. 
As  I  rode  546  m.  for  the  first  \  of  the  year  and  176^  m.  for  the  last  \y  mj  total  mtleagie  for  *t\ 
was  a  12a.    The  dates  and  lodgbg-places  of  ray  Piltsborg  tour,  wUh  houn  of  actoal  travel, 
were  as  follows  :    July  a, 6. 15  a.  m.  to  5.50  p.  m.,  Paradise,  57^  m.,  8|  h.;  3d,  4.35  a.  m.  m 
7.35  p.  M.,  DuDcannon,  65^  m.,  xc\  h.;  4th,  5.30  a.  M.  to  4  p    m.,  canal   lock  near  LewBton 
Narrows,  40  m.,  7^  h.;  5th,  5.20  to  7.50  a.  m.,  Lewiston,  9  m.;  6th,  3  to  6.45  f.  m.,  Allexnriiie, 
aa  m.;  7th,  4  a.  m.  to  3.10  p.  m.,  Altoona,  50  m.,  9  h.  (I  then  took  train  15  m.  to  Cressoo  Sprn^*, 
in  order  to  enjoy  from  the  car-windows  the  fine  scenery  of  the   Horse  Shoe  Ciuve,  which  I 
should  have  missed  if  I  had  wheeled  along  the  Portage  road,  though  this  is  easily  ridafalc) ;  Mi, 
I  to6.ao  p.  M.,  Johnstown,  29  m.,  4^  h.;  9th,  1a.30t06.3s  p   m.,  BlairsTille,  aS^  m.,  5  h.;  lodi, 
4.55  A.  M.  to  1.45  p.  M.,  Pittsburg  (Monongahela  House),  38  m.,  8  b     This  total  of  339I  m.  ia 
crossing  the  Sute  really  represents  but  6  days  of  riding.     I  resumed  my  journey  July  la,  a.  15  to  7 
p.  M.,  Washington,  34  m.;  13th,  3.50  to  7.30  p.  m.,  Brownsville,  34  m.  (by  Old  National  IHfce, 
still  well  kept  and  having  huge  iron  m.  posts,  6  ft.  high,  at  3  m.  intervals) ;  14th,  5.30  a.  m.  id  1 
p.  M.,  Connellsville,  asf  m.  (where,  as  the  road  which  I  *d  been  told  was  *  good  for  33  m./  was 
in  fact  closed,  I  took  txain  to  Somerset,  though  I  might  easily  have  wheeled  diere  by  the  ocber 
route  from  Uniontown);  15th,  9.30  a.  m.  to  6.50  p.  m.,  Bedford,  40  m.,  7  h.;  i6ch,  Bedfori 
Springs,  am.,  \  h.;  17th,  9.45  a.  m.  to 6.30  p.  m.,  Werefordsbuig*  40  m.,  7  h.;  i8tb,  8.50  a.  m.  Ip 
12.45  P  M.,  Berkeley  Springs,  10  m  ,  i  h.  (last  6  m.,  from  the  Potomac,  opp.  Hanoodc,  fine  riii> 
ing;  see  p.  339);  aist,  i  to  8.30  p.  m.,  farm-house  5  m.  beyond  Pughtown,  34  m.,  6h.;  sad, 
Winchester,  4  m.  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  ridu^  wiib> 
out  dismount,  Lancaster  to  Mountjoy,  is  in.;  rough  and  mountainous  to  Middletown,  15  m.; 
good  snrface  and  scenery  along  the  river  to  Harrisburg,  9  m.,  and  Dauphin,  9  m.,  where  i  t  r. 
over  the  mountains,  crossed  the  river  at  Claric's  Ferry,  8  m.,  and  then  went  down  it  to  Dmiaii> 
non.    Good,  but  mountainous  road  led  on  4th  to  Newport,  16  m.,  where  I  crossed  the  Juniata,  asd 
rode  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  atonn  to 
q>end  the  night  in  a  lock-house,  and  took  3  headers  into  the  canal,  next  morning,  after  which  I 
walked  8  m.  to  L.,  and  wraited  dunng  the  day  for  my  clothes  to  be  washed.    I  also  bent  a  pedil* 
pin  by  a  fall.*  Mountain-climbing,  through  fine  scenery,  was  the  rale  on  the  7th,  when  I  walked 
3  m.  up  Bald  Eagle  mtn.,  the  steepest  grade  of  the  tour,  and  then  down  again ;  and  my  roueoa 
the  8th  was  mostly  traversed  on  foot,  with  mistaken  detour,  and  nothing  to  eat.     Walkiiq^  vas 
again  needed  on  the  9th,  though  there  were  some  ridable  stretches  of  cinders  along  the  r.  r., 
and  4^  m.  of  fair  tow^iath ;   but  the  fine  scenery  of  the  Pack  Saddle  on  the  Coneouutgh, 
where  the  rushing  river  makes  the  mountains  resound  with  a  perpetual  roar,  well  repaid  the 
long  tramp  on  rough  ballast.    The  grandest  scenery  of  the  tour  was  at  the  summit  of  the  Alie- 
ghanies,  where  I  spent  3  h.  at  midday  on  the  15th,  and  afterwards,  in  descending,  was  hindeRd 
somewhat  by  showers.    On  the  17th,  from   Bedford  to  Everett,  8  m.,  and  ClearviHe,  9  m.,  i 
found  good  surface  (last  stretch  mountainous),  but  broke  a  pedal-pin,  which  I  at  once  replaced 
by  a  new  one ;  and  afterwards  cracked  my  handle-bar  and  knodced  my  rear  wheel  out  of  tnie, 
-^hese  mishaps  being  caused  by  the  working  loose  of  my  bag,  which  gave  me  two  \aA  head* 
ers.    Noble  views  are  to  be  had  from  the  tower  <»  the  mountain-top  at  Berkeley  Spring*,  and 
also  from  various  points  on  the  trail  which  I  followed  thence  throu|^  the  mountains,  on  the  an^ 
to  Pughtown,-^ding  through  many  small  creeks,  and  one  deep  one,  some  40  yds.  wide,  widioat 
a  fall.    After  the  first  8  m.  of  ridable  day,  much  of  this  road  led  Uirough  heavy  foiests  and  aa- 
inhabited  fields,  and  where  its  middle  was  not  overgrown  with  grass  the  big  stones  were  afana- 
dant.    My  bed  that  night  consisted  of  sue  chain  in  a  farmer's  kitehen."    (See  p.  344  for aooDsni 
of  W.  W.  Darnell's  1000  m.  tour  of  '83,  whose  route  coincided  in  parts  with  thn  one.) 

'*  The  kmgeat  day's  rides  included  in  the  665  m.  recorded  during  my  stay  at  W.  were  rooDd* 
trips  to  Harper's  Ferry,  53  m.;  Martiiisbuig,  44  m.*,  Upperville  (twice  over  the  Blue  Ridge),  9s 
m..  Rock  EnoB  Springs,  36  m.,  and  Capon  Springs,  which  latter  I  will  describe  in  detaL 
Starting  at  7.4$  a.  m.,  I  found  the  Romney  pike  good  mac.  f or  s  ».  to  Round  hill,  wfaeic  k 


LONG'-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         497 

changes  to  red  slate,  alto  fine,  and  I  coasted  down  the  w.  slope  of  Little  North  mtn.  through 
€ae  scenery.    The  creek  which  I  forded  6  timea  in  the  ta  m.  from  W.  to  the  cros»-raada  (i  h.) 
was  not  stony,  and  gave  sHght  trouble,  but  I  had  to  ford  it  later,  on  foot,  at  8  different  phoes. 
At  the  cross-roads  1 1.  1.,  and  found  fine  surface  for  4  m.  and  then  rather  sandy  to  the  fork,  x^ 
in.,  where  1 1.  r.,  by  direction  of  guide-board,  and  found  a  m.  more  of  good  riding,. and  after^ 
wards  a  direct  road,  akmg  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  t  1.  at  the 
fork  and  gone  |  m.  over  the  ridge,  I  should  have  reached  Rock  Eaon  Springs;  and  I  returned 
in  x^  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^.io  a.  m.  and  reached  the  National 
Hotel  in  Washington  at  5  p.  m.,  76  m.  in  i  if  h.  of  the  hottest  day  in  the  year.      I  had  nearly  a 
fan  moon,  but  my  lamp  helped  where  trees  made  deep  shade.     At  4  m.  I  forded  the  Qpequoa 
on  foot;  passed  Berryville  (6  m.)  at  3.30,  and  at  4  got  to  Candleman's  Ferry,  4^  m.,  where  I 
had  ao  min.  dehty  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  laro.  through 
PurceHville  and  Hamilton  to  Leesbuig  at  8.30,  where  stopped  t  h.  for  breakfast ;  crossed  the 
Potomac  at  Edward's  Ferry,  at  to.  30,  and  had  dirt  road  thence  for  17  m.  to  Great  Falls  of  the 
Potomac  (dinner  1.30  to  2.30);  then  went  by  Cabin  John's  Bridge  and  Geocgetown  to  the  finish 
at  5.     Two  days  later,  I  wheeled  to  the  Soldiers'  Home,  Brightwood,  Colesvilie  and  Ashton,  as 
m.  (3.  IS  to  6.30  p.  M.),  and  was  well  cared  for  over  night  at  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  ElKcott  City,  15  ra.   on,  at  9.50,  and  Baltimore,  9  m.,  at  ts.ao,  and  by  a 
wretched  and  mostly  unridable  road  to  a  private  house  in  Abington,  at  6.xo  p.  m.,  with  a  day's 
record  of  50  m.    On  the  tsth,  I  found  a  good  clay  road  through  Aberdeen  to  Havre  de  Grace, 
13  m.  ID  1}  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,  a. 30  to  5.50  p.  m.,  and  took  the  cars  for  home. 

'*  fn  1885,  my  touring  from  July  22  to  Sept.  14  anibunted  to  ii66|  m.  I  on)y  rode  rso  bl 
afterwards,  and  my  mileage  for  the  first  ^  of  the  year  (458^  m.)  wu  without  mishap,  except  the 
occasional  braaking  of  a  pedal-pin ;  but  it  included  67  m.  ridden  on  snow,  and  the  earliest  15  m. 
of  an  (Jan.  2,  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  nSleage  to  7451,  exclusive  of 
what  Kttle  I  wheeled  in  '79.  My  tour  of  '85  led  first  to  the  Catskilb,  thus :  July  aa,  5  a.  m.  to* 
8.15  p.  M.,  CenterviOe,  69  m.,  iif  h. ;  «3d,  6  a.  m.  to  7.15  p.  m.,  Guymard  Springs,  to\  m., 
7I  h.  ;  24th,  4  A.  If.  to  y.ao  p.  m.,  Hyde  Park,  58}  m.,  8|  h. ;  2Sth,  8  a.  m.  to  8.15  p.  m..  Cats- 
kill  Mtns.,  43i  ra.,  8  h. ;  a7tb,  6.40  a.  m.  to  7  p.  m.,  35)  m.,  6^  h. ;  3«Bt,  12  to6.45  p.  n.,  Delhi,. 
33  m.y  5^  h. ;  Aug.  i,  5.45  K.u.tiQ%  p.  m..  West  Coventry,  48  m.,  9  h. ;  ad,  4  to  8.t5  p.  m.,. 
Lisle,  22  m.,  3}  h. ;  3d,  6.10  a.  m.  to  2  p.  m.,  Ithaca,  33  m.,  6  h. ;  12th,  at  Williamsport.  5  m. ; 
13th,  8.40  A.  M.  to  7.15  p.  M.,  Berwick,  46^  m.,  6}  h. ;  i4ih,  8.20  a.  m.  to  4  p.  m.,  Drifton,  24. 
(n-i  sf  !>• ;  'S'h  to 23d,  detours,  28  m. ;  24th,  4  to  8  p.  m.,  Tamaqua,  22  m.,  2^  h. ;  asth,  4  a.-m. 
to  S-30  P-  M.,  Shellabuii^,  60  m.,  9}  h. ;  26ih,  5  A.  m.  to  5.40  p.  M.,  Chamhersbuvg,  66  m.,  9V 
h. ;  27th,  8.45  A.  M.  to  4.30  p.  M.,  Martinsbuig,  40^  m.,  6  h. ;  aSth,  12.30  a.  m.  to  11.15  ^>  **.,  to* 
Sutmton  and  bock  to  Harrisonburg,  141  m.,  18  h. ;  29th,  12.30  to  ii  p.  m.,  Winchester,  68^  m.,. 
8  h. ;  31st,  near  W.,  39  m. ;  SepL  11,  3.20  to  7.30  p.  m.,  Williamsport  37  m.,  3]  h. ;  12th,  8.20* 
A.  M.  to  7.4s  '•  M.,  Yoric,  69^  m.,  9I  h. ;  13th,  2.4s  to  7.20  p.  m..  Paradise,  34  m.,  4  h. ;  14th, 
Pluladelphia,  S7  m.,  8  h.  (12  h.  on  the  road).  Considering  the  obstacles  encountered  on  my  3} 
days'  ride  of  231  m.  to  the  Catdulls,  I  think  the  daily  aven^  of  60  m.  a  good  one.  At  the 
start,  after  doing  10  m.  to  Willow  Grove,  I  went  without  dismount  ra  m.  to  my  first  breakfast;- 
and  from  Pipersville,  10  m.,  to  Bucksville,  7^  m.,  had  a  good  day  road,  well  shaded;  fromi 
Kintnersville,  4  m.,  had  good  tow-path  to  Uhlersville,  6|  m. ;  beyond  Easton,  5  ro.,  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  24th,  I  had  a  beautiful  momiog  ride  for  4  m.  down  the 


498  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

mtn.,  and  then  8  m.  to  Middletown,  at  5.40 ;  but,  aboot  6  m.  bejrond  (when  I  suddenly  cuglic  mg 
machine,  after  making  a  quick  dismount)  the  backbone,  heavily  weighted  with  baggage,  swn«g 
aitmnd  against  the  head  with  such  force  as  to  bend  the  r.  fork  half-way  through,  forcing  me  lo 
go  cautiously  to  Newbuig,  18^  m.,  where  I  waited  for  repain  from  10.30  to  3.4s ;  then  cnaaed 
ths  Hudson,  and  kejit  along  its  e.  bank  to  Hyde  Park,  doing  the  last  6^  m.  from  PooghkeepBie 
ill  I  h.  without  dismount  (p.  196).  At  Rhinebeck,  on  the  asth,  1 1. 1.  for  the  fine  and  shady  river 
road  which  brought  me  to  Germantown,  where  I  was  taken  across  the  river  in  a  sail  boai,  gettiag 
catq^ht  in  a  thunderstorm,  which  made  the  clay  so  muddy  that  1  walked  the  8  m.  to  PalenviOe ; 
whsnce  at  sunset  I  a%<ynrtrd  the  Kaaterskill  Clove  (see  p.  188),  and  afterwards  viewed  the 
mountains  by  moonlight  (Laurel  Ho^pe).  On  the  ajth,  I  traversed  36  m.  more  of  mmmrtai 
roads,  through  Tannenville  and  Phoenicia,  ending  at  the  Gnnd  Hotel,  2500  ft.  above  tide- 
water.  Aboot  la  m.  before  this,  a  sand  nu  threw  roe  into  a  fence  and  badly  bent  my  wheel,  so 
tittt  I  spent  4  h.  in  uking  out  and  replacbg  the  spokes,  to  get  it  into  ridable  shape ;  and  I 
waited  then  till  the  31st  for  the  machine  to  take  a  trip  to  Phila.  for  repairs.  I  found  the  last  S 
m.  to  Delhi  very  good,  but,  on  Aug.'  1,  walked  thence  6  m.  up  the  natn.,  and  followed  the  direct 
road  to  Franklin,  whence  good  riding  was  the  rule  to  Unadilla,  10  m.,  and  Baiobridge,  ii  bl, 
followed  by  9  m.  hilly  and  sandy  to  West  Coventry.  On  the  ad,  obeying  my  usual  Sunday  rule, 
to  ride  but  a  few  h.,  towards  night,— I  went  down^^rade  to  Greene,  7  m.,  and  the  Triang^le,  6  n., 
whence  It.  r.  up  the  creek,  out  of  my  course,  for  the  sake  of  the  good  road  to  Lisle.  On  the  3d, 
ill  spite  of  rains  which  spoiled  the  roods,  I  traversed  31  m.  to  Ithaca,  and  was  i  m.  beyowl  it  at 
5  p.  M.,  00  the  way  to  Watkins,  when  the  backbone  snapped  off  close  up  to  the  head. 

"  This  was  the  6rBt  serious  break  my  bicycle  ever  had  (record,  575a  m.) ;  so  I  again  shipped  it 
to  Philadelphia  for  repairs.  At  Willianisport,  where  I  rejoined  it  on  the  12th,  the  wheels  inter- 
fered  and  caused  a  halt,  after  s  m. ;  and  when  this  was  remedied,  on  the  13th,  the  fork  which 
was  6xed  at  Newbuig  gave  way,  and  another  repairer  made  a  bad  job  of  it ;  nevertheless  I  made 
46  m.,  mostly  on  hilly  and  sandy  roads.  On  the  14th,  I  crossed  the  Susquehanna ;  had  a  steep 
climb  of  4I  m.  up  the  Nescopeck  mtn.  on  the  way  to  Conyngham,  and  another  of  i^  m.  iqi  the 
Budcs  mtn. ;  and  found  the  best  riding  on  the  4  n.  stretch  of  slag  and  cinders,  endliv  at 
Drifton ;  whence,  on  the  a4th  a  good  road  took  me  to  Hazleton,  in  a  drizzle  of  rain,  and  then, 
anud  fine  mountain  scenery  to  Tamaqua.  My  route  from  there  (see  p.  34a  for  another  sad 
longer  route  from  T.  to  Harrisbvig),  on  asth,  was  to  Heda,  8  m. ;  Orwigsborg*  6  m. ; 
Schuylkill  Haven,  4I  m. ;  whence  to  Pine  Grove,  14  m.,  I  wheeled  in  i  h.,— the  fastest  run  of 
the  tour,— along  a  beautiful  valley  whose  almost  level  clay  road  was  slightly  improved  by  the 
morning's  ndn,  while  the  surface  of  the  next  j  m.  to  MiiBin  was  finer  yeL  I  made  a  i^jfta^^  ia 
crossing  the  river  here,  for  I  found  a  very  sandy  road ;  and  a  terrible  thundeistonn  overtook  ae  at 
Union  Forge,  in  the  gap  of  Blue  mtn.,  and  made  such  mud  that  I  couldn't  rida  the  down-grade 
that  finished  my  60  m.  run  at  Shellsbuiig.  Mud  was  also  a  hindrance  in  getting  thence  to  Harris- 
burg,  14^  m.,  for  breakfast,  00  the  a6th,  but  I  rode  from  there  to  Chamberebur^g,  ^t\  bl,  be- 
tween 9.30  A.  M.  and  5.40  p.  M.  Leaving  Martinsburg  \  h.  after  midnight  on  the  »8th,  I 
reached  Fisher's  hill,  43  m.,  at  sunrise,  though  much  loose  mac.  had  been  spread  along  the  latter 
half  of  the  distance,— the  longest  moonlight  run  of  my  experience.  I  breakfasted  at  Woodstodi, 
1 1  B.  (7  to  81.30  o'cIockX  and  left  my  luggage-bag  there ;  then  had  fine  road  to  Newmarket,  19  ni. 
in  i|  h.,  and  covered  the  last  14  m.  without  stop.  Harrisonboiy,  x%\  m.,  was  my  dining-plaoe; 
and  I  pushed  the  wheel  25^  m.  thence  to  Staunton,  2.30  to  6  p.  m.,  though  hew  stone  had  been 
laid  all  the  way  except  the  first  3  m.,  and  mudi  walking  was  enforced."  [This  finished  the 
longest  4  days'  straightaway  ride  yet  taken  in  America  (28a  m.  from  Tamaqua),  the  one  raakiag 
next  to  it  being  H.  J.  High's  254  m.,  from  near  Stauaton  to  Pottsville,  see  p.  35a.  It  abo  is- 
tshed  the  longest  3  days'  straightaway  (22a  m.  from  ChamberBbuig),  the  best  previous  one  being 
H.  S.  Wood's  S15  m.,  S.  to  Columbia ;  see  pp.  317138&]  "  Resting  10  min.,  after  tfauscos- 
pleting  ri6  m.,  1  turned  about  and  had  traversed  8  m.  more  at  7.15,  when  I  found  that  the  fork, 
which  had  been  twice  badly  mended,  had  again  broken  loose,  from  bumping  down  the  stouy  hill& 
I  wasted  \  h.  in  the  vain  effort  to  make  it  rigid  with  wires,  and  also  halted  ^  h.  for  supper  at 
9.    Afterwards,  I  tried  the  saddle  by  short  stretches  in  the  moonlight,  and  stopped  for  good  al 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS. 


499 


Hamgottbiug.  at  ti.  is  r.  m.    Except  for  the  giving  out  of  my  madiine,  L  should  have  added  30 
m.  to  the  141  travereed,  in  q>ite  of  the  loose  stonee  on  the  pike.    At  the  several  hotels  where  I 
stopped,  I  took  pains  to  register  my  name,  with  the  time  of  arrival  and  departure.    I  devoted  the 
next  fof«noon  to  getting  my  fork  mended,  and  then  wheeled  68^  m.  to  Winchester,  at  iv  p.  m., 
oomplcting  thos  397  m.  from  Drifton,  which  I  left  only  5  days  and  7  h.*before.    My  homeward 
toor  from  W.,  Sept  ii-i4»  was  through  Gettysburg  and  Columbia,  and  should  really  be  called  a 
3  dasrs'  ride.    The  only  mishap  of  the  197  m.  was  a  broken  pedal-pin,  which  forced  me  to  do  10 
m.  of  oae-legged  ridmg,  the  first  aftemoop.    Previous  to  '85  I  never  used  a  cyclometer,  and  my 
ezperienoe  from  its  use  has  disgusted  me  with  them.    Mine,  I  admit,  was  a  bad  make  (Spald- 
ing), but  even  the  fine  ones  get  out  of  order,  and  fail  to  always  give  good  results.    On  my  whole 
trip  of  1 166  m.  my  cyck>m.  registered  only  140  m.    Yon  might  now  ask,  how  I  estimate  my  die- 
tanoes  ?     I  reply,  by  taking  a  large  map  and  with  a  small  scale  of  i  m.  in  a  pair  of  spring  dividers 
mrawnring  the  distance  before  I  start  on  a  tour.    On  the  trip,  where  there  are  m.  posts,  I  follow 
their  readings;  at  least  I  do  this  on  okl  stage  routes,  where  they  can  be  relied  upon.    If  there  are 
no  m.  posu  and  I  cannot  get  the  disUnce  any  other  way,  I  follow  the  measurements  I  found  00 
the  map,  for  I  found  where  I  compared  the  distance  ^  m.  posts  and  the  distance  by  measure- 
ments that  in  100  m.  there  was  a  variation  only  of  |  to  i  m.,  and  of  coune  the  distance  by  meas- 
urements is,  if  anything,  shorter  than  the  actual  distance.    This  is  obvious  from  the  fact  that 
the  measuremenu  on  a  map  do  not  allow  for  the  hills.    At  all  evenU,  I  think  this  method  is 
oHMre  exact  than  the  cydom. ;  for  when  coasting  at  a  high  rate  of  speed  it  does  not  always  act 
bat  aometimes  skips.    Of  course  when  I  arrive  home  I  always  verify  the  results  on  the  map. 
My  expenses  for  repairs  have  so  far  been  about  $25 ;  and  my  average  expenses  of  a  summer 
toor  about  ^5;  which  is  cheap  for  1000  m." 

As  a  suitable  contrast  to  thb  interesting  story  of  what  pleasant  travels  an  undeigraduate  of 
19  has  been  able  to  take  during  his  summer  vacations,  I  note  the  case  of  a  f  eUow-townsman  of 
his,  three  times  as  old,  the  President  of  the  Phila.  Local  Telegraph  Co.,  Henry  Bentley,  who 
in  '83  sought  relief  from  business  cares  by  pushmg  a  bicycle  home  from  Saratoga.    I  believe  he 
has  taken  numerous  shorter  tours,  and  I  remember  his  telling  me— at  Boston,  where  he  called  at 
my  hotel,  to  wish  me  success  on  the  Nova  Sootia  trip— that,  in  order  to  avoid  the  annoyance  of 
"getting  into  the  papers  "  while  thus  enjoying  his  wheel,  he  was  accustomed  to  register  at  the 
hotels  by  some  such  name  as  J.  Smith  or  T.  Brown.      Another  elderly  tourist  is  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Arthur  Edwards,  editor  of  the  NortktmsUm  Christian  Advocate,  who  told  me— at  Chicago,  in 
'8a--of  some  interesting  long-disUnce  business  which  he  had  been  doing  in  Europe,  with  his 
boy,  the  year  before,  at  the  rate  of  40  "»•  *  day  t  bat  who  has  not  heeded  my  entreaties  that  he 
formaUte  these  and  other  experiences  for  insertion  in  this  book.     Mr.   Bentley  has  been  simi- 
larly  obdurate  in  reference  to  my  appeal  for  statistics,  though  he  "  used  to  write  for  Greeley's 
TrOmmy  ra  hb  younger  days,**    A  tour  whose  chief  object  seemed  to  be  "getting  into  the 
papers,"  since  the  progress  of  it  while  it  lasted  was  daily  telegraphed  back  to  the  fferaU,  was 
the  so-called  "  New  York  to  Chicago "  trip  (summer    of  '79)  o*   Weotworth  RolUns,  who 
opened  the  eariiest  riding-schod  in  the  dty,  and  who  seems  to  have  pushed  a  bicyde  up  the 
Hudson  a  considerable  part  of  the  way  to  Saratoga,  where  he  exhibited  it    Puck  afterwards 
pomded  him  with  its  rhetorical  sledge-hammer,  for  palming  off  upon  the  editore  a  plagiarized 
poem  ;  and  I  have  a  vague  recollection  that  this  was  in  praise  of  wheeling.    Another  advertis- 
ing scheme  in  the  shape  of  a  tour  was  that  of  the  professional  racers,  W.  M.  Woodside  and  W. 
J.  Moigan,  who  mounted  their  wheels,  with  much  pomp  and  drcumstance,  b  front  of  the  New 
York  Gty  Hall,  on  May  Day,  1884,  at  i  p.  m.,  with  the  avowed  intention  of  pushing  them  to 
San  FrandscD.    They  spent  that  night  \n  New  Brunswick,  and  got  to  Phila.,  94  m.,  at  8.35 
p.  BL  of  the  ad.    Canton,  7a  m.,  was  reached  on  the  5th  and  Washington  on  the  9th,  when  the 
idiea  was  abandoned,  as  having  **  no  money  in  it,"— the  plan  of  raising  funds  by  hall  exhibitione 
prtmng  an  entire  failure.    I  myself  soon  afterwards  took  a  5  days'  ride,  N.  Y.  to  W.,  and,  in  a 
talk  there  with  the  first-named  tourist,  learned  that  hi  May,  »8j,  he  rode  straightaway  in  Ire- 
land, 90m.  in  8  h..  Port  Rush  to  Belfast,  with  only  two  stops,— the  final  stretch  being  58  m. 
without  dismount.    He  also  said  he  had  stayed  in  the  saddle  for  163  m.,  in  a  race  at  Chicago. 


500         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

At  about  the  close  of  '84,  a  news-note  was  widely  drcolatad  sayii^ :  "  Geoqse  P.  Ba»> 
tian,  of  Brentwood,  Cal.,  intends  to  drive  his  bicycle  to  N.  Y.,  and  then  home  by  way  of  Taos 
and  Mexico ;  "  but  he  has  not  yet  made  the  attempt,  nor  replied  to  my  enquiry  as  to  wbetlier 
he  intended  to  attempt  it  1  have  been  simDarly  unable  to  extort  any  details  from  the  trio  who 
were  thus  mentioned  in  t^e  Bi.  Worlds  Sept.  as,  '85  :  "  Myers,  Fleming  and  Matthews,  of 
the  Penn  City  Wheelmen,  have  just  returned  from  a  tour  which  begun  July  i.  They  ctwmd 
nearly  aooo  m.,  and  went  through  Penn.,  Md.,  W.  Va.,  Va.,  O.,  Can.,  N.  Y.,  Mass.,  R.  L, 
Conn,  and  N.  J."  (see  p.  945).  Another  unauthenticated  paragraph,  afloat  in  the  papers  (Nov., 
'85)  concerned  a  "  business  tour  in  southern  Ohio,  which  will  probably  amount  to  2000  m.,** 
taken  by  W.  A.  App,  of  the  Cleveland  Post  Office.  Some  700  m.  of  autumn  touring  in  Kansas 
was  minutely  described  by  "Adol  Escens  "  in  iheL.  A.  W^.  BitUetm  (Nov.  so,  '85,  and  follow* 
ing  weeks),  showing  the  enjoyment  whidi  the  bicycle  incidenully  brought  to  Frank  S.  Ray, 
while  traveling  to  take  orders  for  the  business  house  in  Kansas  City  which  employs  faini.  A 
spring  tour  of  the  New  Orleans  B.  C,  "  straightaway  to  Boston,  to  attend  the  League  meet  of 
'86,"  with  A.  M.  Hill  and  S.  M.  Patton  as  chief  promoters,  is  announced  in  Jannary  as  fikeiy 
to  attract  a  half-dozen  riders.  This  was,  perhaps  inspired  by  the  reports  of  an  '85  jooney 
taken  by  three  other  Southerners,  J.  H.  Polhill,  of  Macon,  Ga.,  Wm.  Maxwell,  ol  Charlotte, 
N.  C  and  Frank  Steffner,  of  Asheville,  N.  C.  The  latter  kept  a  diary  of  the  tour,  but  de- 
clined to  supply  therefrom  the  details  of  Southern  roads,  which  I  requested  for  publication,  v»- 
less  I  would  pay  him  with  a  copy  of  this  book.  I  therefore  present  the  following,  from  the 
IVkeel  of  Aug.  aS,  which  gave  a  column  report  of  an  interview  with  the  trio,  who  seem  to  have 
reached  N.  Y.  on  the  a4th,  and  to  have  rested  there  a  week  before  wheeling  to  Uie  Springfield 
tournament,  the  objective  point  of  their  trip  :  '*  P.  left  Macon  July  5 ;  was  joined  nesct  day  br 
M.,  and  the  two  met  S.  at  Nashville,  Ai%.  i.  Much  of  their  route  led  through  a  country  where 
people  had  never  before  seen  a  bicycle ;  and  in  the  Kentucky  mountains  they  were  suspected 
of  being  government  detectives,  on  the  search  for  illicit  whisky-stills.  They  took  an  easy  pace 
at  morning  and  evening,  amd  rested  under  the  trees  at  midday ;  but  on  one  occasion  they  cov- 
ered 95  m.  in  9  h."  They  probably  struck  the  Shenandoah  pike  near  Staunton,  for  a  Phitadd- 
phia  paper  alluded  to  them  as  "  the  first  bicyders  who  have  crossed  the  AUeghanies  and  the 
Blue  Ridge,"— though  my  book  records  that  several  other  riders  had  previously  doQ«  this. 

New  Hampshire's  representative  tourist  seems  to  be  Moses  Sheriff  (b.  Sept.  17,  'sjX  Capt 
of  the  Manchester  B.  C,  who  is  employed  at  the  Print  Works  there,  and  who  rode  thence  to 
Three  Rivers  and  back,  698  m.  (July  6  to  Aug.  9,  '84),  his  longest  day  being  67  m.  and  his  shofteat 
45  m.  His  mileage,  as  recorded  by  Butcher  cydom.,  on  a  54  in.  Rudge  roadster,  from  the  fint 
of  '83  to  Aug.  39,  '85  (when  I  took  notes  of  a  talk  with  him),  was  3795 ;  and  he  thought  it  proba- 
ble that  the  50  in.  Standard  Columbia,  used  in  '81  and  '8a,  had  served  for  about  1500  m.  each 
year.  Hb  route  followed  the  Concord  r.  r.,  along  the  Merrimac  river  to  White  River  Jundtioa, 
about  75  m.,  sandy  and  hilly ;  fair  riding  then  to  Montpelier  and  Milton,  followed  by  6  m.  of 
sand ;  level  along  the  shore  of  Lake  Champlain,  with  many  smooth  stretdies,  to  St.  Albans  and 
St.  Armand,  where  he  entered  the  Province  of  Quebec  Through  St.  Johns  and  Sharington,  he 
reached  the  St.  Lawrence  and  found  good  riding  along  it  for  10  m.  to  St  Lambert  (opp.  Mon- 
treal), and  to  Three  Rivers,  where  he  croesed  over  and  returned  to  M.  on  the  n.  w.  shore  with- 
out any  trouble.  Retracing  his  outward  course  as  far  as  W.  R.  Junction,  he  went  tbenoe  boiae> 
ward  through  Newport  and  North  Weare,  and  found  much  better  roads  than  along  the  Heni- 
mac.  Previous  to  this,  his  longest  tour  had  been  from  Manchester  to  Boston  and  ba^  (110  m.). 
Sunday,  July  19,  '83,  3  a.  m.  to  8  p.  m.,  during  which  his  rests  amounted  to  only  i|  h.  The 
poorest  part  of  the  road  is  from  M.  to  Nashua,  19  m.,  and  it  improves  thence  to  Lowell,  14  m. 
and  all  the  way  to  B.  The  road  from  M.  to  Portsmouth  is  poor  for  ao  m.  and  then  good  for 
30  m.  He  wheeled  61  m.  through  Nashua  and  Fitchbuig  to  West  Gardner,  Aiq(.a3,  '85,  and 
found  last  40  m.  fair  riding ;  thence,  on  a4th,  39  m.,  rather  rough  and  hilly,  to  Greenfieki,  where 
he  took  train  through  the  tunnel,  and  on  the  a6th,  wheeled  fnmi  North  Adams,  through  Pittv 
field  to  Chatham,  48^  m.  of  good  surface ;  a7th,  down  the  Hudson  to  Cold  Spring,  78  m. ;  and 
a8th,  to  N.  Y.,  55  m.,~a  total  of  a8i  for  five  days.    He  intended  to  complete  a  circuit  of  soon. 


LONG-DISTANCE  ROUTES  AND  RIDERS.         501 

The  tourist  who  has  beat  combined  business  with  pleasure,  by  wheeling  over  the  longest 
stretches  of  American  roadway  while  in  the  dischaige  of  his  appointed  duties,  is  Edward  K. 
Drew  (bu  1851),  who  became  a  rider  in  Nov.,  '79f  ^nd  has  been  employed  pretty  steadily  since 
then  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  to  establish  hundreds  of  agencies  for  the  sale  of  their  machines, 
and,  inodentally,  to  paint  the  monster  signs  which  proclaim  *'  Columbia  Bicycles  "  to  the  train- 
passengers  near  laige  cities.  His  first  road-ride  was  in  March,  '80,  on  a  48  in.  wheel,  from 
Albany  to  Buffalo ;  then  Niagara  to  Qeveland ;  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,  Bellefontaine,  Springfield,  Dayton,  Hamilton  and  Cincinnati ;  afterwards  to 
Xenia  and  Urbana;  total,  2800  m.  In  '81,  he  rode  3600;  '8a,  4000;  '83,  5960,— making  his 
mileage  for  the  four  years  x6,a6o.  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,  Batavta,  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,  Mr.  Vernon,  Louisville,  Lexington,  Maysville,  Xenia,  Newark,  Wheeling  (train  to 
N.  Y.,  about  Sept  r).  New  Haven,  Hartford  and  Springfield."  I  extorted  these  statistics 
from  him  on  a  hot  May  afternoon  in  *84,  while  we  rested  b>'  the  road>side,  a  few  miles  out  of 
Washington,  before  spinning  back  a^iain  towards  the  great  white  dome.  I  think  a  threatened 
shower  was  what  induced  me  to  postpone  my  enquiries  as  to  his  routes  of  *8i  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  readied  me ;  and,  in  ladi  of  it,  I  am  farced  to  offer  this  entirely  inadequate  ac- 
ooont  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  30,000  m.  on  a  bicycle.  I  hc^x  he  may  have  the 
story  ready  for  insertion  in  "  My  Second  Ten  Thousand  " !  Meanwhile,  I  present  his  testimony 
that  the  roads  of  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  photc^rapher'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  laden.  In  the  routes  given, 
a  semi-oolon  signifies  a  brief  resort  to  the  cars ;  othermse,  his  wheeling  was  continuous. 

Will  P.  Cramer  (b.  Apr.  13,  1863),  League  consul  at  Albia,  la.,  engaged  in  a  good  deal  of 
long-distanoe  bicycling  m  '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  hi.,  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.  la  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,  la  m.  out,  I  found  good 
mads  for  22  m.  to  Stratton  (dinner) ;  and  between  12.45  ^ind  6.35  p.  m.,  I  wheeled  from  S.  through 
Benkleman,  19  m.,  Haigler,  21m.,  and  Laird,  9  m.,  to  Wray,  7  m., — making  89  m.  for  the  day.  I 
had  to  go  through  some  caAons,  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  X3th,  I  finished  breakfast  in  time  to  start  at  6.30; 
paned  throuf^  Eckley,  15  m.,  and  at  11.30  stepped  i  h.  for  dinner  at  Akron,  19  m.;  then  went 
throi^h  Pinneo,  13  m.,  Brush,  11  m..  Ft.  Morgan,  10  m.,  to  Roggen,  32  m.,at  about  5.30,  mak- 
ing 119  m.  for  the  day.  On  the  14th,  I  started  at  6  and  rode  to  Hudson,  17  m.  in  x\  h.,  for  break- 
fast; then  went  through  Barr,  8  m.,  and  reached  Denver  at  10.45.  On  the  i8th,  I  started  out, 
aloi^  the  Union  Pacific  r.  r.  up  the  Platte  (a  very  fine  road),  and  took  it  easily  to  Buffalo.  40  m." 


XXXI. 

STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 

Bashfulness  has  been  defined  as  **  vanity  turned  wrong-side-oat,"  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,  however, 
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  energy  to  waste  in 
keeping  a  careful  watch  upon  any  one  who  is  not  t)f  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  clear  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,  6n  the  other  hand,  hate  to  publish  the  simplest 
facts  about  themselves,  out  of  dread  lest  the  act  be  taken  for  boastfulDCSs. 
They  are  afraid  that  the  whole  world  will  halt  from  its  customary  busioesa. 
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  because  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  of  value  to  the  world.  However  little  we 
may  care  for  the  doings  of  '*  an  average  man,"  as  such,  ^^  the  average  man" 
is  a  personage  who  claims  some  share  of  the  sympathy  of  all  of  us  ;  and  it  is 
the  function  of  personal  statistics  to  help  define  and  materialize  him.  When 
I  ask  John  Smith,  and  Tom  Brown,  and  all  the  rest,  to  let  me  print  their 
birthdays  alongside  their  wheeling  records,  it  is  not  from  a  belief  that  these 
dates  have  any  personal  interest  outside  the  small  circle  of  each  man's  ac- 
quaintance ;  but  because  of  their  statistical  value,  when  aggregated,  in  help- 
ing determine  the  average  age  at  which  a  man  is  most  active  on  the  wheel. 

It  would  not  be  strictly  true  for  me  to  say  that  I  have  spent  more  time 
and  energy  in  persuading  thirty  cyclers  to  prepare  for  this  book  brief  and  un- 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  503 

obtnisive  statements-of-fact  about  themselves,  than  in  persaading  thirty  hun- 
dred of  them  to  subscribe  for  the  book ;  neither  will  I  declare  that  a  general 
invitation  for  wheelmen  lo  call  at  my  chambers,  in  order  to  have  their  front 
teeth  knocked  out  for  my  amusement,  would  have  brought  more  responses 
than  my  general  appeals  for  the  aforesaid  statements-of-fact;  but  these  exag- 
gerated comparisons  will  give  a  not  inaccurate  idea  of  the  difficulties  I  have 
encountered  in  securing  such  autobiographies  as  the  book  contains.  I  plainly 
announce,  therefore,  that  none  of  my  contributors  belong  to  the  boastful 
class ;  and  I  also  regretfully  add  (to  save  the  space  that  would  be  required 
for  printing  all  their  self-deprecatory  remarks)  that  many  of  them  belong  to 
the  bashful  class.  Hence,  it  would  be  an  act  of  wanton  injustice  for  the 
reader  to  censure  any  of  these  men  as  **  thrusting  themselves  forward  " ;  Since 
most  of  them  have  in  fact  consented  to  be  dragged  forward  only  because 
they  saw  no  other  way  of  putting  an  end  to  my  persistent  clamor  for  their 
'*  lives."  Let  him  understand,  too,  that  I  assume  direct  responsibility  for  any 
faults  of  expression  which  may  appear  in  these  narratives,  while  I  freely  ac- 
credit to  each  apparent  narrator  any  literary  merits  which  his  story  may  be 
thought  to  possess.  Wherever  I  could  easily  save  space  by  changing  or 
condensing  the  language,  I  have  done  so;  and  if  I  have  thus  put  into  any 
man's  mouth  words  which  he  would  prefer  not  to  be  accredited  with,  his  dis- 
claimer of  having  written  them  should  be  accepted  without  question,  in  spite 
of  the  evidence  of  the  printed  page.  I  give  most  of  these  reports  in  the 
first  person,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  and  I  interpolate  no  ideas  of  my  own, 
but  I  do  not  pretend  to  adhere  inflexibly  to  the  original  text.  I  hope  eaclt 
contributor  may  find  I  have  quoted  his  thought  with  essential  correctness, 
even  when  I  make  my  widest  departures  from  literal  accuracy. 

Charles  E.  Pratt  (b.  March  13, 1S45)  deserves  earliest  mention,  as  the  chief  oiganizer  of 
American  cycling,  as  the  first  authoritative  writer  about  it,  and  as  the  uniformly  dignified  de- 
fender of  its  rights  and  its  respecubSity  against  the  encroachments  of  the  ignorant  and  the  ridi- 
oule  of  the  light-minded.  He  graduated  at  Haverford  College  in  '70,  and  is  now,  as  for  some 
yean  fast,  at  the  head  of  the  law  and  patent  department  of  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  as  attorney 
and  counselor.  A  fairly  good  portrait  of  him  appeared  in  the  ^A^«/(Dec.  ai,  'Si)  accompa- 
nied by  brief  bk>grapfay.  He  first  mounted  the  bi.  in  Jan.,  V^*  *t  the  ri^ng-school  of  Cunning, 
ham.  Heath  &  Co.;  look  his  first  road-ride  March  i,  and  covered  looo  m.  that  year;  in  '79  his 
mileage  was  1500,  and  in  the  six  years  since  then  it  has  been  represented  by  smaller  figures  as 
follows :  900,  1300,  600,  500,  200,  and  30,— a  total  of  6o8ow  His  successive  machines  have 
been  Tension  46,  Harvard  48,  Carver  50,  Special  Columbia  50,  Standard  Columbia  48  and  Ex- 
pert 50.  and  he  has  also  ridden  Excelsior,  Royal  Salvo  and  Columbia  tricycles.  He  has  ridden 
in  all  the  N.  E.  States  except  Vt.;  also  in  N.  Y.,  Pa.  and  D.  C;  and  has  probably  covered  aooo 
m.  of  different  roads ;  longest  day's  ride,  60  ra.  "  The  first  American  bicycle  tour  "  (Boston  to 
Portland;  four  days  in  Aug.,  '79)  was  taken  by  him  in  company  with  E.  W.  Pope  and  W.  S. 
Slocum ;  and  when  the  report  which  he  printed  of  it,  with  that  title,  in  the  Bi.  fV^U  (March 
II,  '81,  p.  a7s),  was  challenged  by  W.  E.  Gilman,  in  behalf  of  himself  and  a  friend,  who  had 
taken  their  bicycles  through  the  White  Mtns.  at  an  earlier  date,  the  fact  was  pointed  out  that 
they  were  the  retinue  of  a  touring  party  in  carriages  rather  than  bicycle  explorera  pure  and 
simple.  Much  eariier  than  this,  however  (May,  V8).  Mr.  P.  took  a  two  days'  tour  of  60  m.,  in 
exploring  the  roads  of  Mass.    He  planned  and  commanded  the  "  Wheel  Around  the  Hub," 


504  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Sept  II-I2,  '79(«ee  p.  a6),  and  his  dcacriplioo  of  it,  hand«onicly  iUastrated,  in  Scribmer*s  (Feb., 
'80),  was  the  first  specimen  of  cycling  literature  which  attracted  much  attention  from  the  socnl 
public.    It  was  repifeduced  in  the  IVkeelman  afterwards.     From  his  letter  to  me  (Jan-  9.  "S6  ; 
hastily  written  in  response  to  my  threat  that  I  should  destroy  him*  with  dynamite  unless  be  fonh- 
with  contributed  something  for  this  chapter),  I  extract  the  following:    "  My  help  to  the   owe 
of  cycling  has  been  given  in  these  ways:    (1)  As  a  member  ol  the  BoMon  dty  government,  I 
was  able  to  do,  and  did  do,  more  than  any  one  else,  to  save  the  righu  of  wheelmen  in  that  city, 
and  throughout  the  State  of  Mass.;  and  also,  by  instituting  the  '^^\k  of  Jujy  bL  raoes  '  under 
city  auspicei,  to  give  racing  a  hold  on  the  support  of  the  substantial  classes  in  the  commanitr. 
(a)  As  author  of  *  The  American  Bicycler »  I  gave  a  ready  source  of  information  to  writc-rs  in 
the  public  press,  who  not  only  resorted  to  it  for  facts  but  also  took  from  it  their  tone  of  writn« 
seriously  about  the  subject.    The  book,  furthermore,  was  the  direct  means  of  making  many 
professional  and  elderly  men  adopt  the  bicyde.     I  began  it  in  the  autumn  of  '78  ">d  finished  in 
the  spring  of  '79,  though  I  can't  tdl  how  many  solid  hours  I  spent  upon  iu     Houghton,  Osgood 
&  Co.  issued  the  first  edition  (aooo  copies  at  #1)  and  I  netted  ^7. 50  from  the  sale  of  these  ;  whUe 
from  the  ad  ed.  (3000  copies  it  50c.)  I   received  $100.     Both  issues  were  doih-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  neariy  two  yean ;  and  have  done  aaive  work  lor  it 
ever  since.     I  am  still  an  active  member  and  officer  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  Bkycling  IVaHd  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  IVkeelmoHf  in  Sept.,  '8a,  and  one  of  its  staff  nntil  the  change  was  made 
into  OfUingt  which  I  then  served  as  editor  for  about  a  year.     For  these  and  other  mediiams,  I 
have  probably  virritten  as  much  in  relation  to  bicyding  as  any  one.    (5)  My  legal  ofnnions  00  the 
rights  of  wheehnen—the  chief  of  w^ich  was  printed  in  the  BL  fi^arU{Maj  6,  '81,  p.  409)  and 
condensed  thence  for  the  L.  A.  W.  drcular — have  been  in  constant  requiaitioa  and  use ;  have 
never  been  coi^troverted,  but  always  sustained  ;  and  have  thus  been  hdpful  to  the  cause.     As 
fh  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  yachtii^  duriiq;  such  leisure  as 
I  had,  reduced  my  record  for  that  year  to  30  m.,  but  I  expect  to  ride  mudi  more  in  '86." 

A  veteran  wheelman  in  a  double  sense  is  Joseph  G.  Dalton  (b.  Feb.  8,  i8a8),  who  prepared 
at  my  request  the  following  story  (ft^Atel,  Aug.  15,  '84):  "  I  was  one  of  the  three  who  were 
the  earliest  in  usmg  the  English  modem  bicyde,  on  its  real  advent  in  this  country  at  Boston  ia 
the  summer  or  fall  of  '77.  Col.  Pope  at  the  same  lime  was  trying,  with  an  English  friend,  a 
mostly  wooden  imiution.  Several  young  roedianics  in  this  dty  had  for  a  year  or  two  been  vmog 
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  contained  a  number  of  imported  bicydes,  exhibited 
by  Lavrford  &  Timms.  Having  learned  the  art  of  baUnce  on  that  sort  of  two-wheeler  which 
now  bears  only  an  opprobrious  name,  T  borrowed  one  of  the  new  kind,  a  Paragon,  and  on  Sept. 
i9»  '77i  ^ook  my  first  ride  at  once  upon  the  road.  Though  a  48-in.  wheel,  it  had  a  seat  as  high 
as  that  of  a  sa-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  a6o  m.  I  used 
the  same  during  the  first  \  of  '78,  when  I  received  6  m(H«  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  nursing  the  Infant  cult,  by  editorial  and  other  writing  in  the  dty  papers,  and  in  F.  W. 
Weston's  eccentric  but  valuable  Bicycling  Journal ;  and  was  joined  with  him  and  a  dosen  others 
in  launching  the  first  club,  a  craft  that  still  shows  the  rosy  tint  on  her  prow,  but  'tis  more  the 
healthy  hue  of  prosperity,  than  of  vinous  origin.  For  the  rest  of  that  year,  and  to  the  last  of 
April,  '79, 1  rods  a  4ft4n.  Ariel,  that  make  having  a  bar  and  tension-rods  inside  the  wheel,  by 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS,  505 

which  the  hub  oouU  be  turned  and  all  the  spokes  tigbtcneil  at  oooe.  I  then  bought  a  light  road- 
•ter.  Club  5o-in.»  which  I  rode  until  Oct,  '8a.  Since  then  I  have  used  an  Xtraordinary,  safety 
nMchinc,  524n.,  the  first  I  have  had  which  ran  on  anything  better  than  roller  or  cone  bearings. 
This  kind  I  tliink  is  in  most  respects  the  best  for  such  riders  as  myself,  though  it  b  not  made 
light  enough  lor  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  k>ag-di8Unoe  fellows  who  sweep  over  many  kinds,  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  iu  diameter  in  6  years  is  the  more  proper  thing.    After  about  asoo 
nu  00  the  old,  heavy,  and  high^niilt  machines,  I  rode  the  Club  neariy  4500  m.,  and  the  Xtra,  up 
to  date,  about  2000  m.    It  was  more  than  a  year  before  1  could  rightly  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  exerase, 
to  relieve  occupations  mainly  sedentary ;  it  has  been  done  mostly  near  Boston,  reaching  only  as 
far  as  Wovoestcr  in  one  direction,  and  Gloucester  in  another ;  making  45  to  50  m.  a  day  two  or 
three  tinaes,  and  k>ngest  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 
SV  ni.  an  hour  for  the  time  out,  including  stops.     The  yeariy  distances  are :    1878,  1540 ;  '79, 
«5«5  ;  *8o,  1465 ;  »8i,  980 ;  '8a,  1135 ;  '83,  1 165.    Add  450  m.  for  '77,  and  44s  m.  for  '84  to  Aug. 
ly  and  nay  total  is  8695  m."    He  added  465  m.  to  this  before  the  year  ended  (910) ;  and  his  919 
m.  of  '85  was  thus  distributed:    Jan.,  19;  Mar.,  a8;  Apr.,  116;  May,  149;   June,  45;  July, 
JO ;  Aug.,  154 ;  Sept.,  179 ;  Oct.,  110 ;  Nov.,  79;  Dec,  10,— making  the  total  for  9  years  10,079 
m.     His  "  Lyra  BicycUca:  Forty  Poeu  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  cloth,  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  thus  describes  it:    "A  phenomenal  series  of  high  flights  and  carolss 
in  comic  verK.    To  voice  the  cycling  spirit  in  the  best  manner  Inm  many  points  of  view,  his 
Snper-parodic  method  is  applied  at  last  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  steely  and  tonic  style,  by  the  laureate  bird  of  cycling, 
ea^,  faurk  and  chanticleer  in  one!    Rare  as  it  is  to  see  anything  really  NEW  in  the  field  of 
poetry,  occupied  lor  ages  by  the  finest  wits  of  the  world,  it  is  found  in  this  book,  which  is  qnite 
without  a  parallel  in  its  plan  and  leading  features.    Eri^%ut  musm  ignemt  carmtm^m  eatunti." 
Hardly  five  years  younger  than  the  Boston  poet  is  the  Michigan  journalist,  L.  J.  Bates  (b. 
Sept.  a4»  1832),  who  assumed  the  editorship  of  the  Laming  Re^uNtcoM,  in  Jan.,  '86,  after  about 
20  years'  connection  with  the  Pnt  and  Tribtme  at  Detroit.    He  is  one  of  the  few  trained 
writers  that  have  contributed  to  the  cycling  press,~his  signature  as  "  President  Bates  "  being 
familiar  to  all,  and  his  style  being  sufficiently  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  rillage  in  the  Catskill  section  of  the  Hudson  Valley.     I  was  married 
at  Grand  Rapids,  Aug.  t8,  i860,  to  Miss  Jenny  L.  Tracy,  and  have  two  children,  a  daughter 
and  a  son.    I  am  now  jj,  but  can  keep  up  with  any  kind  of  a  procession  on  wheels,  and  have 
as  much  fun  as  any  of  the  crowd.    I  was  the  earliest  bicyder  in  Michigan  ;  received  my  Co- 
lumbia March  ai,  '79,  and  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  foir  day  since.    This  was  oh  March  29  [the  self-same  day  that  the  author  of  this 
book  learned  to  ride  at  Boston ;  seep.  25],  and  on  Sept.  2,  I  organized  the  Detroit  B.  C,  the 
fint  in  the  State,  with  8  members,  and  was  elected  president.     Each  year  since  then  I  've  been 
unanimously  re-elected,  in  spite  of  my  protest,  except  in  '84,  when  f  positively  refused  to  serve. 


So6 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


My  wheeling  amounted  to  over  aooo  m.  duriog  6  months  of  mmmer  and  autumn,  the  oaly 
year  I  ever  kept  a  record.  My  annuaJ  total  must  be  laigei— never  tess  than  aooo  to  3000 
m. — and  in  '84  I  guess  it  was  3500.  I  ride  about  10  m.  a  day,'— going  lo  and  iram  nyoftoc 
thus  on  abnost  every  possible  day,— and  there  are  not  mors  than  6  to  u  weeks  in  tlie  ycarwhsa 
weather  prevents  my  riding.  My  present  50  in.  Expert  has  earned  me  over  11 /x»  a.,  at  a 
cost  of  only  56  c  for  repairs  caused  by  breakages,  and  |a  for  a  new  tire  to  rear  wfa«»L  Be- 
sides taking  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  nns. 
My  only  serious  accident  was  in  '84,  after  safely  returning  from  the  Canada  lour,  when  I  brake 
two  ribs  by  a  slight  fall,  which  was  produced  by  a  block  of  wood-paving  being  thrown  agaiMi 
my  wheel  where  some  street  repairs  were  in  progress.  The  only  fall  of  any  kind  I  'vc  had 
since  then  was  caused  by  the  breaking  under  my  wheel  of  a  boaid  in  the  sidewalk  at  NapaiKe, 
giving  me  a  slight  bruise.  I  wrote  my  first  bicycle  article  in  winter  of  '79-'&h  suid  was  anan- 
ished  to  find  it  going  the  rounds  of  the  press.  My  imaginative  sketch  caiJed  'A  Midnight  Ride  * 
in  Burbank's  '  Wheelman's  Annual  for  '82/  also  had  quite  a  ran,  in  England  as  ^^I  as  Amei^ 
ica,  and  I  believe  b  still  afloat,  accredited  as  a  veritable  adventure.  My  pieoes  for  the  BL 
World  oi  '81  included  'Our  New  Year's  Call  on  WheeU'  Ou.  14)  and  'The  Bumpa  Soe- 
nade '  (Nov.  11).  In  the  magaxine  called  the  Wksgimam,  and  then  Outmg',  besides  my  reportt 
of  the  Canada  tours  (April,  May,  '84 ;  May,  '85),  I  printed  practical  essays  on  the  '  Idcnl  Tri- 
cycle '  (March,  '83),  '  Our  Highway  Laws  as  Affected  by  Bicycling '  (March,  April,  *g3),  *  Poet- 
ical Power  of  the  L.  A.  W.'  (May,  '83),  and  the  following  sketdies  :  '  True  Hiatoiy  of  that 
Qub  Run'  (Dec,  '83),  'The  Club  Christening'  (Jan., '83),  'The  Bl  Qub  Attend  a  Sewi^ 
Circle  '  (Feb.),  '  True  History  of  CapL  Hardrider's  Run  '  (May),  <  Mr.  Cuff  and  Miss  Mv- 
gery '  (July),  *  How  OTulliver  Bard  was  Assassinated  '  (Oct.),  *  Mr.  Omdor  and  Miss  Wealthy* 
(Jan.,  '84),  'The  Twiddle  Twins '(Feb.),  'My  Wife's  Tricycle'  (July),  'The  Perker  Hunt* 
(Sept.),  'Ride '(poem,  Nov.),  'How  Mr.  Podwinkle  was  Encouraged'  (April,  '85),  'How 
OTulliver  Bard  Coasted  the  Bridge '  (July),  'On  the  Proper  Economy  of  Truth '  (SepL).  As 
for  cyclometers,  I  have  examined  several,  and  think  the  perfect  one  has  not  yet  appcand, 
0  though  the  improved  Butcher  is  pretty  good.  The  figures  on  the  dial-plate  should  be  }  in.  Im^. 
black  on  white ;  and  the  best  dial  I  've  seen  was  that  of  the  proposed  Lamson  eye  The  per. 
feet  meter  should  run  by  friction-wheels,  not  cogs,  and  should  record  1  m.  exactly^  when  meaS' 
ured.  The  trouble  with  meters  that  allow  a  fixed  number  of  cogs  to  the  m.  is  that  they  leaEy 
measure  a  few  ft.  or  in.  more  or  less  than  i  m.,  and  the  repetition  of  these  alight  erranfimBy 
causes  a  laige  one.  In  conclusion,  let  me  add,  as  a  notable  fact  about  bicyding,  that  I  've  nevv 
seen  an  experienced  wheelman  thoroughly  tired  by  any  ride  or  run,  no  matter  bow  kmg,— I 
mean  not  so  tired  but  that,  after  resting  a  single  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^  ni.,  and  the  107  of  '85,  45^  m.,— not  only  without  sickness  or  serkms  acci- 
dent, but  with  actual  gain  of  weight  in  the  caaes  of  all  but  4  of  the  3 10  imfividnah.  TUs 
seems  all  the  more  remarkable  in  view  of  the  fact  that  they  were  often  wet  by  bad  rain- 
storms, drank  everything  on  the  road,  and  went  late  to  bed." 

"  Telzah,"  a  signature  whkh  always  secured  dose  attention  from  regular  teaden  of  the 
Bi.  World  xn  its  bright,  earlier  days,  is  a  pseudograpbic  reversal  of  one  whidi  now  gives  ao- 
thentidty  to  many  extremely  interesting  artides,  of  univeml  popularity,  whenever  oAdaDy  used 
by  C.  A.  Haxlett  (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  dw- 
ing  the  long  hours  that  he  ought  properiy  to  spend  in  compiling  "  Summaries  of  Notable  Ron 
and  Excursions,"  such  as  he  nsed  to  supply  for  the  Whtolmam  (Feb..  Mar.,  '84),  when  he  nos 
a  simple  bank-derk  and  bachelor.  With  a  carefully-kept  cydoneter-vecord  about  twice  as  great 
as  my  own,— greater,  in  fact,  than  that  of  any  other  American,— he  cherishes  my  own  faoteesi 
for  accurate  statistics  of  wheeling;  and  as  he  is  about  the  only  writer  save  myself  who  has  at- 
tempted  any  painstaking  presenution  of  the  same,  on  a  large  scale,  I  regret  to  see  a  big  stadc  of 
paper-money  absorbing  nearly  all  the  ink  out  of  his  pen.    He  still  pushes  it  occasionally  on  s 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


507 


s  artide  cslled  "  Tvrenty  Thousand  Miles  on  New  England  Roads/'  embodying  his 
expcrienoes,  but  cannot  aay  how  soon  this  may  be  ready  for  publication.  When  I  first  penuaded 
hin  to  attempt  audi  a  piece,  in  order  that  I  might  reprint  a  summary  of  it,  *'  Fifteen  **  was  the 
first  '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  fiiMfing  leisure  to  expand  it.  His  record  is  a  most  instructive 
one,  as  showing  the  value  of  the  bicyde  to  a  man  whose  business  keeps  him  largely  m-doors, 
and  chainrd  10  a  single  locality ;  and  it  offers  an  interesting  contrast  to  that  of  Mr.  Drew  (p. 
501),  whose  similarly  extensive  mileage  proves  the  value  of  the  bicycle  to  a  man  whose  business 
keeps  him  hugely  out-doors,  and  moving  to  many  localities.  As  it  seems  itkely  that  no  other 
American— with  the  possible  exception  of  roysdf— has  taken  so  many  careful  readings  from  the 
cyelomeur,  a  special  importance  attaches  to  what  he  says  on  that  point  (Dec.  9,  '85) :  '*  I  have 
used  vsrions  other  kinds,  but  for  the  most  part  have  carried  Ritchie's  magnetic  cyclometer.  I 
■tiU  depend  upon  it,  for  it  has  never  failed  me,  and  rq^lar  tests  convince  me  that  it  is  accurate. 
I  am  occasionally  obliged  to  pot  in  a  new  washer,  or  otherwise  take  up  the  wear,  but  its  inside 
ooostniction  and  operatioQ  have  been  satisfactory.  Other  makes  have  the  advantage  over  h  in 
reelect  to  a  dial  which  can  be  read  while  riding ;  and  if  a  change  in  die  of  whed  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,  '79X  «  eye.  was  attached  to  it,  and 
I  b^an  revolving  the  same  at  the  rate  of  soo  to  300  m.  per  month,  so  that  at  the  end  of  the 
year  it  recorded  1660  m.  My  mileage  in  '80  was  aS^o ;  and,  as  I  found  1  had  missed  riding  only 
4M1  a  dozen  winter  days,  I  decided  in  '8t  to  make  the  &st  American  out-door  record  for  every 
day  in  the  year.  I  accomplished  this,  though  my  rides  through  the  siKyw,  on  a  few  stormy  days, 
were  diort  as  well  as  aneomlortabie,— the  sum  of  the  365  rides  being  317$.  My  '8a  mileage  was 
9695;  '83,3675;  '84,  3310;  '85,  s83o,a  total  of  ai,oi5.  My  duties  during  the  last  year  have 
been  so  presdng  that  I  've  hardly  taken  time  to  do  the  wheeling  that  I  think  necessary  as  health 
fuel  for  my  work.  The  first  loio  m.  of  it  were  ridden  before  the  dose  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 
neavly  every  year  and  now  comfortably  ride  a  54.  I  retain  four  of  my  old  bicycles  in  my* 
wtwel-house,— 4he  favorite  veterans  being  John  Bull  (imported  in  '77  or  '78;  solid  backbone),  and 
Special  0>lumbia,  with  its  record  of  6ood  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,  '78,  but 
take  no  note  of  the  few  hundred  m.  I  rode  that  year.  My  cydom.  record  also  exdudes  the  m.  I 
have  covered  on  the  road  by  tricyde  and  tandem,  the  many  h.  I  have  bicyded  in  our  dub  rink,  and 
the  long  distances  I  have  pushed  the  marine  bicycle,  on  rivers,  lakes  and  ocean.  1  have  not  ridden 
at  any  time  just  to  increase  my  record,  but  diiefiy  for  enjoyment,  and  for  the  sake  of  counteract- 
ing the  unhealthf  nl  tendendes  of  an  oociq>ation  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  Kmits  of  my  actirily,  it  has  been  confined  almost 
wholly  to  New  England.  The  separate  roadways  I  have  explored  would  probably  not  amount 
to  500  m. ;  the  longest  of  these  being  in  Mass.,  the  hardest  being  across  the  steep  and  sandy 
hills  of  Me.,  and  the  most  varied  being  arpund  home  in  N.  H.  My  first  all-day's  straightaway 
ride  was  from  Portsmouth  to  Boston,  66  m.  (Aug.,  '79) ;  and  you  can  consult  my  articles  in  the 
WhMlman  (Jan.,  '83  ;  Feb.,  Mar.,  '84) for  details  of  the  ia6  m.  ride  I  took  Oct  29,  '8s,  with 
wind  and  rain  against  me,  and  of  the  even  100  m'.  run  in  10  h.,  Nov.  3,  '83.  I  have  no  scan  to 
show,  and  no  serious  acddents  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  fancy  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  luck  seems 
peculiar :  during  hundreds  of  miles  ridden  by  night  and  on  the  ice,  I  never  yet  had  a  fall." 

William  V.  Oilman  (b.  Nov.  25,  1856),  treasurer  of  the  Nashua  Card  and  Glazed  Paper  Co., 
b  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  life  to  give  less  time  to  ike 
wheel  and  the  pen.     His  portrait  and  biography  appeared  in  Spr,  Wh,  Gom.  (JooCi  *&•,  p.  cgt^ 
One  of  his  earliest  recollections  is  the  departure  qt  troops,  for  the  South,  froin  Albany,  his  bodk- 
place,  though  his  parents  moved  thence  to  Nashua,  in  war  time,  and  he  graduated  at  iu  h^ 
school  in  'jSi  ^^^  entered  as  Freshman  at  Dartmouth.    College  was  soon  abandoned  in  iavor  of 
a  business  school  at  Boston,  whence  he  went  into  the  employ  of  a  paper  mill  at  West  Henaikcr, 
N.  H.  (Feb.  I,  '77)>   ^^^  '^^^  3^  y^n  there,  assumed  his  present  position  in  Nashua.    Us 
learned  to  ride  in  Oct.,  '7^1  ^'  ^  1^0'  ^y  ^  bicycle  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  decrealing  since  then  as  follows:  '81,  4100;  '83,  2700;   '83,  1509;  '84,  1117;  '8$, 
637 ;  total,  12,685.    "  Though  this  decline,  enforced  by  business  demands,  seems  a  great  one  ** 
(he  writes  to  me  Dec  10,  '85),   "  my  bicycles  are  nevertheless  kept  in  constant  use,  the  entire 
riding  season.    The  di£ference  is  that  I  use.  them  only  in  short  spins,  for  healthful  exeroae,  m 
jogging  about  town, — my  longest  day's  ride  in  '85  being  a  round  trip  of  30  ro.    Tboi^fa  1  hate 
spent  more  than  |itoo  on  cyclometers,  none  are  attached  to  the  wheels  I  now  use  (a  Radge  aad 
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  oonsider- 
ably  in  Mass.,  and  a  little  in  N.  Y.  and  N.  J.,— as  also  at  Chicago  and  Wiashington,  while  at- 
tending the  Ltea^^  meets)  shake  them  all  to  pieces.     My  wheeling  record  has  therefoiv  been 
made  up  from  my  knowledge  of  distances  traversed,  estimated  to  the  best  of  my  judgment.     I  do 
n^  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  yon  inait 
upon  it,  I  supply  the  best  details  I  can.    Though  I  have  ridden  a  little  in  Jan.  and  Feb.,  my  or- 
dinary season  has  been  restricted  to  the  other  ten  months  of  eadi  year.    During  *8o-*8i,  for 
many  days  in  succession  I  rode  40  m.  or  more,  outside  of  business  hours,  thus :  to  Lowell  asd 
back  without  dismount  (30  ol)  ;  then,  after  dinner,  to  Tyngsboro  and  back  without  diamooBt 
(14^  m.),  in  I  h.  5  min.     I  used  to  indulge  in  many  similar  perfomumces,  of  which  I  took  no 
note, — riding  persistently,  '  night  and  day,  up  hill  and  down,  over  all  creation.'    1  grew  so  food 
of  knickerbockers  that  I  wore  them  almost  oontinuouslgr*  for  every  sort  of  business  or  pleastne ; 
and  I  tried  all  sorts  of  rigs  and  outfits,'~broadcloth,  white  fbrnnel,  club  uniforms,  plain  shifts  wiib 
belts,  and  all  the  colors  in  all  combinations  possible.     I  have  ridden  some. 250  m.  on  tricydes 
(Harvard,  Victor  and  Columbia),  though  none  is  now  owned  by  me,  or  by  any  one  dse  in  this 
part  of  N.  H.,  where  the  sandy  roads  hardly  warrant  their  use.     Besides  my  two  marine  biey- 
cles,  I  have  owned  and  ridden  the  following :  Newton  Challenge,  Velocity,  4  Columbias  (2 
Standards,  x  Special,  i  Ejq>ert),  3  Harvards,  Shadow,  Vale,  Rudge  light  roadster,  Araericaa 
Rudge,  Royal  Mail,  Club,  Spedal  Club,  Union,  Matchless,  American  Star,  British  ChaHei^^ 
Sanspareil,  Kangaroo  and  Victor.     I  was  appointed  League  consul,  eariy  in  '81,  and  on  Sepc  17, 
organized  the  Nashua  Wheel  Club  (now  defunct) ;  was  its  first  president,  and  in  '8a  was  chosea 
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  Asaoda- 
tion,  as  well  as  of  the  Mass.  B.  C.  and  the  Springfield  B.  C, — a  life  member  in  the  latter  case." 
"  Ixion  "  was  a  familiar  signature  to  early  readers  of  the  Bt.  H^orldt  and  it  sometimes  erca 
now  appears   there,  representing  Llewellyn  H.  Johnson  (b.   March  17,  1859),  a  graduate  of 
Swarthmore  College  in  '78,  and  recently  established  as  a  dealer  in  cydes  at  East  Orange  (3  Ar- 
lington PI.),  who  sent  me  this  short  story,  Jan.  i,  '86  :    "I  took  my  first  ride  Jan.  7,  '79,  aad 
have  whededin  N,  J.,  N.  V.,  Mass.,  Vt.,  N.  H.,  Va.,  Md.,  D.  C,  R.  L.  Prov.  Que.,  Eng.  and 
Wales.     Mileage,  18,723,  divided  annually  thus  (the  additional  figures,  after  first  a  years^  show 
bi.  and  tri.  records  respectively)  :  *79i  »643  "»  *8o,  2030;  '81,  3139—3068,  71 ;  '82,  1387— X224i 
«62j;  »83,  3301— 981^,  X3i9i;  '84,  4048—1877,  2171 ;  '85,  4»75— "4S.  >9y>-    This  gives  a  total 
of  13*069  for  the  bi.  and  5654  for  the  tri.     My  experience  with  cyclometers  covers  these  e%ht : 
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  emphaticaDy 
denounce  the  Butcher  as  a  fraud."    A  monthly  analysis  of  his  '84  road-reoord  was  given  m  BL 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


509 


f#''>rA/(Jaii.  aj,  '85)  as  follows  :  "Jan.,  ao|— 8|,  la;  Feb.,  loi— as,  76;  Mar.,  18a— 11,  171 ; 
Apr.,  5ao-^66,  354 ;  May,  37*~-i30>  a4a  ;  June.  45*— a«>f  «5a  5  J«Jy»  616— ago,  336;  Aug.,  448— 
379.  69;  Sept.,  318^-314,  104;  Oct.,  347~-9oa,  145;  Nov.,  4aa~>8i,  341 ;  Dec,  349^70^,  179. 
The  third  numeral  aat^ped  to  each  month  shows  the  records  of  tricydes,  and  they  are  designated 
by  italics  in  this  analysis  of  the  year's  mileage  between  the  machines  ridden  :  Humbtr,  iioo ; 
Rtacker,  646;  Humier  Tandem,  613;  Pony  Star,  505^;  Yale,  433^;  Rucker,  347;  Rucker 
Xandem,  127;  Facile,  79;  l/'ictar,  68;  Sanspareil,  45;  Trmveifr,  a6;  Kangaroo^  a6;  Ckeyltt- 
9morm  SocimbU^  15;  Rudge,  10;  American  Onb,  10;  Humber,  6;  Columbia,  a."  His  ride  of 
July  so,  '84,  on  the  roads  around  Orange,  "lowering  the  American  34  h.  tri.  reooid,"  was  fully 
described  m  the  Bi  World  of  July  18,  which  said  that  he  **  carried  a  McDonnell  cydom.  which 
had  iweviously  been  tested  over  accuralelyomeasared  roads,  and  was  accompanied  by  a  veteran 
rider  whose  Excelsior  cydom.  is  known  to  be  absolutely  accunte."  The  same  paper  printed  a 
biography  (Jan.  11,  1881),  accompanied  by  a  fulMength  wood-cut  portrait  of  him  in  racing  cos- 
tume ;  for  his  was  the  first  well-known  name  upon  the  race>reoords  of  American  amateurs,  and 
I  regret  that  the  space  he  has  consented  to  fill  in  this  book  is  so  slight 

I  may  say  the  same  about  the  captain  of  his  dub,  the  Orange  Wanderefs,  J.  Warren  Smith, 
m^yoiai  I  take  to  be  the  only  American  possessed  of  an  accurate  cydometer*record  that  repre- 
sents the  wheeling  of  59  successive  months,  and  whoae  entire  record  for  66  months  (one  month 
ooly  with  no  riding)  is  30,037!  m.  These  notable  facts  are  shown  in  the  following  admiraUy- 
ananged  table  which  he  sent  to  me  Jan.  5,  '86,  with  this  remark:  "  1  began  riding  in  Jan.,  '80. 
but  I  make  no  account  in  the  table  of  my  first  6  months,  when  I  had  no  cydometer.  1  have 
used  only  the  very  best  procurable,  testing  each  one  on  a  carefully-measured  track,  and  dis- 
carding it  if  not  found  correa."  I  assume  that  this  valued  contributor  is  a  derk  in  the  Oange 
National  bank,  and  that  moat  of  his  ridmg  has  been  done  outside  of  office  hours  in  the  region 
right  around  there.  My  enquiries  as  to  those  points  and  many  others,  induding  the  names  of 
the  good  and  bad  cydometers,  have  gone  unanswered ;  but  much  can  be  pardoned  a  man  vriio 
has  the  patience  to  ubulate  a  mileage  record  in  this  shape : 


Jan. 

Feb. 

Mar. 

Apr. 

May 

June 

July 

Aug. 

Sept. 

Oct. 

Nov. 

Dec. 

Total 

1880 

87 

««5l 

73 

87 

«4 

504 

479* 

I88I 

"1 

65i 

I34i 

in\ 

5^35 

636} 

548i 

409t 

444* 

365^ 
284 

335* 

3700} 

I8S3 

101} 

107 

456I 

5^81 

471} 

4S6J 

5^7* 

40ii 

400} 

a3ot 

66} 

40322 

1883 

«i 

4l 

M3* 

164! 

a84| 

369I 

338 

305 

187 

«96» 

354 

«97f 

2556J 

1884 

«oi 

"5 

«77* 

601 

7i«* 

90ii 

7M 

655* 

572I 

6o3i 

S17I 

35«l 

5931* 

»88s|  «39i 

aaj 

3.0J 

" 
350I 

462 

503* 

3*4 

326J 

336i 

333 

307 

70* 

3326* 

Another  rid^r  who  h^s  made  a  large  record  in  that  same  favored  region  is  Robert  D.  Mead 
(b.  May  19,  1851),  of  Newark,  who  has  also  done  plenty  of  rough  touring  outside  it,  as  shown 
by  the  report  now  given,  in  addition  to  that  on  p.  164.  His  letter  to  me  says,  Aug.  13,  '85  : 
"  This  morning's  spin  brings  my  total  to  13,033^  m.,  representii^  636  days  on  which  I  have 
mounted  the  wheel,  out  of  the  1035  days  which  have  elapsed  since  the  time  of  my  first  ride,  Oct. 
13,  '83."  He  added  about  3000  m.  during  the  next  4  months,  for  his  letter  of  Dec  33  says  : 
"  My  mileage  is  now  15,154.  I  wish  you  could  have  been  with  me  on  tne  ride  I  enjoyed  this 
morning, — starting  in  the  moonlight  at  5.30  and  reaching  Hemlock  Falls  just  as  day  was  break- 
ing, llie  place  is  7  m.  from  Roseville  station  (by  Park  or  Central  av.  to  the  valley  road ;  t.  r. 
up-hill  at  S.  Orange  av.,  and  afterwards  1. 1.),  in  the  s.  e.  cor.  of  Essex  co.,  and  the  water  has 
a  fall  of  about  35  ft.  in  a  narrow  ravine,  thickly  shaded.  The  ice  which  covered  the  face  of  the 
falls,  to^iay,  made  a  pretty  winter  picture.    During  my  annual  autumn  vacation  tour,  stormy 


5IO  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

weather  interfered  on  5  days  of  the  m  (aA  I  show  by  the  *),  bat  my  drcait  covered  4  States  and 
58ai  m.,  representing  Z2i  h.  in  the  saddle  and  %b\  h.  of  resu  on  the  road,  the  average  speed  be> 
ing  a  trifle  over  6  m.  per  h.  In  the  following  list  I  give  this  speed  for  each  day,  eapressed  «b 
tenths  of  I  m.,  after  the  name  of  place  where  day's  ride  ended ;  the  numeral  before  each  n»e 
shows  the  day's  distance,  expressed  to  sixteenths  of  1  m. :  Oct.  5,63.10,  Canterbury,  6u4a;  6th,* 
39.3,  Washington  Hollow,  6.53.;  7tl»,*  47- 3»  Cornwall  Bridge,  4.60;  8th,»  37.x4»  Stockbridr, 
6.31 ;  9th,  55.9,  Hoosac  Corners,  7.10;  toch,  56.7,  Caldwell,  6.71;  uth,  70.  is,  SchodadL,  7.3S; 
r3th,»27.4,  Hudson,  5;  14th,*  3.02,  Poughkcepsie,  6.0a;  isth,  57.14,  Moniicello,  5.74 ;  «6Af 
48.9,  Branchville,  6.08 ;  17th,  49.1,  Newark,  5.83.  (Cars  were  taken  from  Hudaoa  to  Tlvoli,  on 
the  13th,*  and  from  Cochecton  to  Port  Jervis  on  the  i6th,~the  m.  thus  ridden  of  oooxae  baag 
disregarded  in  the  record.)  All  my  i5,iS4ni.  have  been  done  on  a  single  bicycle,  which  I  bought 
at  second-hand,  with  an  Excelsior  cyclometer  attached.  I  have  tested  the  aocoracy  of  thb  by 
counting  the  turns  of  the  wheel  for  many  m.,  and  its  invariableoess  by  going  over  the  sane 
course  many  times,  at  different  r^es  of  speed.  One  course,  more  than  17  m.  long,  I  have  trav* 
ersed  at  least  100  times,— varying  my  speed  from  i  h.  39  min.  to  3  h.,— and  I  am  aatafied  thai 
the  cyclom.  is  very  accurate.  Its  leather  washers  need  replacing  after  every  aooo  or  jooo  m. ,  aad 
once  I  have  sent  it  for  slight  repain,  made  necessary  by  long  use,  to  the  aukers  (EL  B.  Bentoa 
Mfg.-  Co.,  391  W.  nth  St.,  N.  Y.).  I  have  never  met  a  wheelman,  osing  any  other  make  of 
cyck>m.,  who  could,  with  equal  reason,  give  so  good  a  report." 

A  Jerseyman  also  by  residence  since  Aug.,  '85  (at  Jeraey  Qty,  531  Bergen  av.),  thouf^  for 
the  5  previous  years  a  practitioner  at  New  Haven,  is  the  present  official  handicapper  of  the 
League,  Dr.  N.  P.  Tyler  (b.  Oct.  11,  '48,  at  Barrytown,  N.  Y.),  who  says  of  his  14,374  m^  ^ 
riding,  in  4  yrs.  and  a  mos.,  that  it  was  "of  neoeisity  confined  mostly  to  Connecdcut  and  a 
limited  number  of  roads,— probably  not  mors  than  800  m.  of  separate  roadway  having  been  trxr* 
ersed  by  me,  all  told.  I  learned  to  ride,  at  the  end  of  May,  '83,  for  the  sake  of  saving  hone- 
flesh;  and  my  own  flesh  increased  z6  lbs.  within  6  weeks.  In  '83, 1  gave  up  both  hones,  and 
used  the  bicycle  entirely  for  professional  calls,  except  in  rainy  and  s&owy  weather.  My  tint 
long  ride  was  40  m.  to  Hartford  (Oct.) ;  ten  days  after  which  (Nov.  3)  I  went  over  the  same 
route  and  continued  straight  on  to  Springfield,  68  m.,  in  9  h.  I  made  3  other  trips  to  Hartford, 
4  to  Bridgeport,  and  2  to  Meriden  and  back,  that  season  (total,  438  m.),  besides  constantly  rid- 
ing about  town.  So  I  estimate  my  mileage  of  *83  as  about  3300  m.,  though  I  once  toU  yon,  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  simply  added  up  the  cydom.  readings  until  at  end 
of  Dec  the  total  was  4378  m.  In  '84, 1  kept  a  regular  log,  showing  5009  m.  ridden  in  387  days; 
and  I  supplied  the  Bi.  World  {^^x^.  16,  '85,  p.  171)  a  table  of  months,  whidi  I  now  reprodooe,— 
the  first  numeral  showing  mileage,  the  second  the  riding  days,  and  the  third  the  gieateat  mileage 
on  any  one  calendar  day :  Jan.,  107, 14,  30 ;  Feb.,  85, 14, 13 ;  Mar.,  34,  4,  6;  Apr.,  395,  36, 39; 
May,  399,  30,  35;  June,  370,  37,  38 ;  July,  583,  31,  47 ;  Aug.,  470.  a9,  37?  Sept,  574,  39, 46; 
Oct,  699,  31,98;  Nov.,  813,  39,  68;  Dec,  481,  23,  55-  The  Oct.  ride  of  98  m.  was  a  part  of 
my  130  m.  straightaway  run  (see  p.  xaS)  whose  ss^h.  were  divided  by  midnight.  Mymaeage 
for  first  7  mos.  of  '85  was  2S87,  assigned  to  303  days,  as  follows  :  Jan.,  335,  38,  31 ;  Feb.,  303, 27, 
31;  Mar.,  383,  31,  39;  Apr.,  403,  30,  26;  May,  501,  39,  37;  June,  610,  30,  49;  July,  463,28, 
53.  I  began  with  a  50  in.  wheel ;  rode  a  53  in.  Expert  through  '83,  and  a  5a  in.  Rndge  (34  lbs.) 
in  '84 ;  but  the  bi.  that  has  given  the  most  out-and-out  satisfaction  for  general  road  riding,  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  racing  path,  but  my  professiooal  en- 
gagements have  thus  far  prevented  any  longer  tonr  on  the  road  than  34  h.  Perhaps  my  melt 
noteworthy  exploit  was  staying  in  the  saddle  straightaway  for  35  m.  of  difficult  surface,  as 
recorded  on  p.  138.  Though  I  am  accustomed  to  a  hut  pace  on  the  road,  and  receive  numerom  . 
falls,  I  have  never  been  seriously  hurt,  or  even  laid  up.  Regarding  cydnmeters,  I  have  naed 
some  make  constantly,  save  the  first  few  months  of  my  riding — a  53  in.  McDonnell  having  al- 
most always  been  on  my  machine.  My  experience  is,  that,  when  this  is  driven  around  a  correctly 
measured  race  track  at  a  3.30  or  slower  gah,  it  invariably  registers  correctly,  but  a  higher  rate  r( 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


S" 


speed  causes  it  to  stand  still.  B.g,^  from  New  Haven  to  Braniord  it  measured  7}  m.,  but 
oaly  7I  m.  oomiog  back,  when  two  long  hills  were  coasted  at  a  high  late  of  ^>eed.  On  the  first 
appearanoe  of  the  Batcher,  I  obtained  a  hand-made  speonien  which  registered  5a  m.  of  a  century 
r«ni  (Nov.  17,  '83,  see  p.  149)  and  then  stopped ;  but,  as  my  McDonnell  was  still  on,  I  kept  the 
record  all  right.  I  sent  the  Butcher  to  be  repaired,  but  it  stopped  again  and  again,  until  the 
makers  replaced  it  by  a  machine-made  one,  which  in  turn  played  the  same  trick,  until,  after  much 
trouble,  they  substituted  for  it  their  '85  movement,  llus  stopped  for  repairs  at  100  m.,  then  nn 
to  1000  m.  and  stopped.  As  I  had  been  riding  a  51  in.  bi.,  for  some  time  (subtracting  x  m.  for 
every  49  m.  r^;istered,  to  ofiset  the  excess  of  a  5s  in.  eye.),  I  now  procured  a  51  in.  eye  of  the 
Butcher  Co.,  but  it  8tO|^)ed  at  2x0  m.,  and  being  repaired  then,  it  has  run  to  1005  m.  witl^ut  ao> 
cident.  I  have  found  the  McDonnell  simple  and  always  in  working  oider,  but  in  comparison 
with  the  Butcher,  on  same  wheel,  it  lost  from  5  to  13  m.  in  every  soa  The  Butcher  is  accurate 
while  it  runs,  and  has  the  great  advantage  of  being  read  from  the  saddle ;  but  it  gives  out  when 
yoo  most  need  it,  and  the  lantern  attachment  is  constantly  coming  to  pieces  from  the  jar.  I 
have  tried  the  £xcslaaor  also.  It  is  absolutely  true,  but  only  registers  100  m.  An  absolute  eye. 
aiva  the  ptttem  of  the  Butcher,  but  caoXacaBcca^nospringt^  would  give  universal  satisfaction." 

Henry  W.  Williams  0>*  June  6,  1847),  solicitor  of  American  and  foreign  patents  at  358  Wash- 
ington St.,  Boston,  is  one  of  the  few  riders  in  that  dty  who  is  willing  to  set  a  good  example  to 
the  caieleas  and  diffident,  by  keeping  an  accurate  record  of  his  mileage,  and  making  annual 
publication  of  the  same,— in  spite  of  the  BL  JVorkTs  sneen.  Though  bom  at  Taunton,  the 
State  capital  has  baen  his  home  since  1850,  and  I  was  therefore  justified  in  alluding  to  him  (p. 
2SB)  as  the  representative  Bostonian  of  our  touring  party  "  in  the  Down  East  fogs."  I  have 
msntioned  (p.  379)  that  his  appearance  on  that  occasion  was  excellently  represented  in  Sandham's 
^x/mi/' picture,  and  have  expressed  my  heart-felt  joy  (p.  276)  at  his  getting  a  bad  header  while 
piloting  a  party  of  us  down  one  of  the  steepest  pitdies  of  Mt.  Desert,"~for  not  otherwise  could 
he  have  received  in  this  world  a  punishment  suitable  for  his  depravity  in  choosing  so  rough  a 
route  i  The  case  is  thus  alluded  to  in  a  letter  of  his  which  was  printed  {BL  IVorldt  Apr.  24, 
*Ss)  among  the  advertising  "  testimonials  "  of  the  Pope  Mfg.  Qo. :  "  In  these  times  of  '  safety ' 
wheels,  small  and  great,  it  may  be  interesting  to  know  that  I  traveled  7500  m.,  consecutively, 
on  Columbia  bicycles,  without  a  single  fall  (save  one)  *,  and  that  a  bad  hill,  on  the  famous  '32-m. 
drive '  in  Mt.  Desert,  was  what  prevented  the  record  from  reachmg  yjot.  My  freedom  from 
accidents  while  a-wheel  I  attribute  mainly  to  three  things:  the  exerdse  of  ordinary  care,  re- 
fraining from  coasting,  and  the  standiness,  rigidity,  and  good  workmanship  of  Columbia  wheels. 
I  have  ridden  13,500  ro.  on  (Columbia  machines,  of  which  over  9000  m.  wore  on  the  Expert  bicy- 
cle, in  many  States  and  over  all  sorts  of  roads.  As  I  regard  the  Expert  as  by  far  the  most  satis- 
factory  wheel  made  for  every^day,  take.em-as-you-find-em  roads,  I  still  ride  it  daily."  Hisletter 
to  me,  of  Apr.  10,  '84,  gives  further  details  of  the'matter:  "  The  only  remarkable  thing  about 
my  record  seems  the  fact  of  my  riding  7500  m.  without  a  fall  (or  invdnntary  dismount  of  any 
kind),  except  in  two  instances,  when  I  was  run  into,-~ooce  by  a  careless  driver,  and  once  by  a 
very  fresh  bicycler.  In  both  cases  the  men  stupidly  t.  1.,  instead  of  r.,  and,  as  I  was  going  at 
speed,  I  had  no  time  for  a  badtward  spring,  so  that  a  collision  ensued.  My  freedom  from  falls, 
in  ^>ite  of  a  great  deal  of  hand  and  sandy  road-riding,  I  attribute  mainly  to  a  knack  which  I 
have  of  making  a  very  quick  dismount,  when  emergency  demands.'*  His  letter  to  me  of  Dee. 
9,  '85,  combined  with  the  previous  one,  gives  the  following  facts;  "  I  first  bestrode  the  bicycle 
in  June,  '80,  at  the  Popes'  riding  school ;  took  my  first  ou(-door  ride,  at  Washington,  before 
the  next  month  was  a  week  old,  and  bought  ray  first  machine,  a  Odumbta  Special,  July  15  ;  af- 
terwards, I  used  a  Standard  and  then  the  Expert  which  I  now  have.  My  1277  m.  of  tricycling 
(8j,  6oi  m.;  '84, 3x7  m.;  '85,  359  m.)  has  been  done  on  the  National,  the  three-track  Columbia, 
and  the  two-tnck  C.  Of  cyclometers,  I  have  thoroughly  tried  but  three:  Pope,  McDonnell 
and  Ritchie  Magnetic,  and  the  last  is  the  only  one  I  found  to  be  accurate.  Such  small  parts  of 
my  record  as  have  not  been  kept  by  it,  have  been  carefully  verified  by  good  road-maps.  The 
total  is  15,578  m.,  of  which  x4,3ox  m.  was  by  bieyde.  Outside  the  State  limits,  my  wheeling 
hashardly  amounted to65o  m.,  divided  about  as  follows:    D.  C,  150;  N.  Y.,  225 ;  N.  H.,  190: 


512 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Me.,  E3o;  R.  I.,  sa  In  the  following  annual  summarieaXaftcr  *8o»  iiriien  I  only  rode  607  a.), 
the  numerals  stand  for  miles,  riding-days,  average  miles  per  day,  and  longest  monthly  mileage: 
'81,  3060,  183,  i6|,  456;  »82,  3559.  183,  I9i,  553;  *83,  3453,  ao6,  i6i,  477;  '84.  2450,  MS- 
16^,  515;  '85,  3449,  15^1  i5f>  439^-  The  number  of  day's  ride:!  exceeding  50  m.  which  I  have 
taken  in  the  last  5  years  is  34,  arranged  as  follows:  7,  la,  6,  5,  4.  Oa  each  of  8  mootfas  m  "Sa 
I  rode  vwt  300  hl;  and  it  was  in  '8a  that  I  took  my  longest  ride  (118  m.  inside  ol  x8  h.,  » 
shown  on  p.  258).  The  similarity  of  these  averages  shows  the  fact  that  I  've  used  the  wbuJ  as 
a  commonplace  factor  in  daily  life— riding  hundreds  of  times  between  my  hw  office  in  the  dtr 
and  my  residence  in  the  suburbs  ;  hurrying  for  the  doctor  with  it,  more  than  oooe ;  song  to 
church ;  and,  on  several  occasions,  taking  a  journey  of  3  or  4  days,  though  no  extended  tow. 
E.g.,  I  had  a  pleasant  day's  run  of  48  m.  along  the  n.  shore  from  Boston  to  Pigeoa  Cove; 
through  Salem,  35  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  bed 
road,  I  had  fine  riding  to  Ipswich  and  Newburyport  (dinner),  and  pooronwaids  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  Newbwypofft  was  b« 
poor  roads,  which  you  are  familiar  with  (p.  lot).  Early  in  '81,  I  joined  the  Biasa.  B-  C.,  and 
have  been  an  officer  of  it  almost  ever  since ;  though  my  third  term  as  president,  now  nearly 
ended,  will  be  the  last  I  may  say  of  the  club  that  its  present  active  memberahip  (943,  aB 
riders)  is  larger  than  that  of  any  other  in  the  U.  S., — ^not  excepting  bicyde  dnhsltke  the  Boston 
which  allow  associate  membership, — and  it  will  soon  exceed  350." 

Mr.  W.  has  contributed  a  few  road-reports  and  other  practical  pieces  to  the  Bi.  IVmrid^  and 
also  at  least  one  argumentative  article  to  the  iVkeelman^  deprecatory  of  the  conduct  of  cyders 
whose  coasting  and  carelessness  make  needless  acddents  that  frighten  away  elderly  mea  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  Houae  of  the 
Mass.  B.  C."  {Ouiimgr,  Mar.,  '85,  p.  439).  u  the  Rev.  S.  H.  Day  (b.  Mar.  11,  1850),  who  in  *S4 
held  the  office  of  first  lieutenant  thereof,  and  whose  white-capped  head  may  be  found  fadqg 
that  of  Mr.  W.,  in  Sandham's  picture  of  the  "  Down  East  party"  (see  pp.  279,  as8),  acrws 
the  fork  of  the  bicyde  which  forms  a  frame-work  for  the  portraits.  He  was  one  of  the  lovr 
Mt.  Desert  martyrs  who  did  n't  tumble  on  the  fated  afternoon  which  made  "  6  bent  haad]e4»n 
out  of  a  possible  10  " ;  his  story  of  the  ride  was  given  in  BL  Wtrld  (Nov.  a>,  '83,  p.  aS),  k> 
which  he  has  otherwise  contributed ;  and  he  also  printed  a  piece  deprecatory  of  "  Fast  Rand 
Riding  "  {IVJuelman^  Dec,  '83,  p.  325).  He  was  educated  at  Dickinson  Coll.  and  Drew Thed. 
Sem.,  and  is  now  in  charge  of  a  church  at  East  Greenwich,  R.  I.,  whence  he  sends  me  this  re- 
port (Jun6  IS  and  Dec.  16,  '85):  "  My  annual  mileage,  '80  to  '8$,  is  500,  2300I,  3763^,  aSoo  and 
846, — total,  9310.  The  McDonnell  cyclometers  are  not  of  equal  merit,  bnt  mine  b  reliahle. 
Such  riding  as  I  didin  '8c  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  yean»  arose  from  the  fact  that  from  ^  to} 
was  made  in  the  course  of  my  pastoral  visiting.  In  my  present  pastorate,  while  my  visitiog  hat  is 
from  3  to  4  times  as  large  as  at  S.'  Abin^on,  yet  the  town  is  so  compact  that  I  do  not  need  my 
bicycle  to  save  time  as  formerly.  Whatever  mention  yon  may  make  of  my  riding,  nothing 
would  give  me  more  satisfaction  than  to  have  jom  offer  this — the  correct— explanation  ol  the  dis- 
tance I  have  covered  on  the  wheel.  *Such  statements  show  the  f oOy  of  looking  upon  it  as  a 
mere  exerdse-machine.  Since  bdng  in  R.  I.,  I  have  ridden  to  church  in  makii^aa  exchange ; 
and  not  a  word  of  objection  was  ottered  against  this  act,  though  the  ^cyde  is  not  as  famifiar 
here  as  in  Mass.  Some  of  the  most  delightful  and  exhilarating  rides  I  've  ever  enjoyed  have 
been  when  the  thermometer  was  below  tero.  To  the  bicyde  I  attribute  the  il^ct  that '  hlae  Mon- 
day' u  a  thing  unknown  in  my  experience.  My  somedraes  preaching  without  notea,  'load 
and  long*  (contrary  to  the  McthocUst  disdpline),  may  perhaps  be  accredited  to  the  same  10- 
stnunenL  I  bought  a  bi.  in  July,  '81,  because  I  had  just  sold  my  horse  and  carriage  and 
needed  a  conveyance  to  attend  to  pastoral  duties.    A  public  man  wants  ihae.    A  preacher  wanls 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  513 

an  the  time  far  study  (as  a^art  from  semum-iMepantioo)  he  caa  get  My  biqfcle  and  phonog- 
raphy enable  me  to  put  more  into  each  week  than  without  them  would  be  possible.  As  ease  of 
piopulsioB  increased,  the  practicability  of  runs  and  tours,  apart  from  home  duties,  was  seen  and 
acted  upon.  The  first  season,  '81,  I  toured  to  White  nans.,  partly  by  train,  and  I  have  since  ex- 
plored with  system  and  care  all  of  s.  e.  Mass.  (Norfolk,  Bristol  and  Plymouth  counties)  and  some 
other  sections  of  the  State.  I  once  went  from  Boston  to  S.  Abington  without  dinmount,  25  m. 
straightaway.  I  have  ridden  50  in.  Columbian  (Standard  and  £xpert),  and  am  now  using  a  52  in. 
Rudge  light  roadster,  as  for  two  years  past." 

Thomas  Midgley  (b.  Oct  2a,  t86o),  whom  I  have  described  as  the  "champion  handle-bar 
straightener  of  the  Down  East  party  "  (pp.  258,  377),  sends  me  a  story  which  I  present  with 
very  few  changes.  I  had  to  write  so  much,  in  persuading  him  thus  to  "  write  anything," 
that  I  can't  spare  any  more  time,  iu  trying  to  "  condense  "  I  1  believe  he  was  bom  in  Ln- 
gland,  but  emigrated  to  America  when  quite  young,  and  made  his  home  at  Worcester  for  a 
doxen  years  or  so,  until  he  removed  to  Pennsylvania,  in  Dec,  '84.  I  remember  he  used  a 
McDonnell  cyclom.  in  the  Maine  tour,  and  had  a  good  opinion  of  it  (the  college  student  and 
the  clergyman  just  described  also  carried  McDonnells,  and  the  three  agreed  pretty  well  with 
one  another  and  with  my  Pope  cydom.,  on  the  as  m.  test,  at  Mt  Desert,  when  these  four  wheels 
were  the  only  ones  that  did  n*t  fall,  "  out  of  a  possible  10  ");*<>  '  presume  most  of  his  '83 
record  was  kept  with  it  As  to  his  race  at  the  Washington  Athletic  Park,  Oct  a6,  '83,  Has- 
lett's  "  Summary  "  ilf^ktefmam,  Feb.,  '84,  p.  369)  speaks  as  follows:  "  His  aunpetitor  was  R.  F. 
Foster,  of  Baltimore,  who  had  been  suffering  a  fortnight  from  fever  and  ague,  but,  in  lack  of 
other  entries,  determined  to  start  anyhow.  Midgley  shot  a%ray,  and  led  F.  100  yds.  on  the 
first  lap  (i  m.X  Both  rode  with  excellent  judgment  under  the  circumstances.  M.  knew  he  was- 
sure  of  first  place  unless  he  broke  down ;  but  the  first  lap  convinced  him  that  the  wind  was. 
too  strong,  and  the  track  too  soft,  from  recent  heavy  rains,  to  admit  of  his  beating  L.  H> 
Johnson's  in-door,  3.9.45(1  or  even  Place's  out-door,  3.37.11}  for  50  rl  He  had  nothing  U> 
fear  from  F.,  who  had  never  ridden  over  30  m.  in  his  life  before,  on  track  or  road.  So  he  set- 
tled down  to  about  14  m.  per  h.  for  all  day.  Foster,  on  the  other  hand,  knew  about  11  m.  per 
h.  was  all  he  could  stand ;  and,  with  an  Auburndale  in  one  pocket  and  a  lap-scorer  in  the 
other,  he  regulated  himself  like  a  dock  to  that  gait,  and  no  challenges  from  Midgley,  or  uig- 
ings  from  pace-makers,  could  shake  him.  The  high  wind  and  soft  track  gradually  told  on  the 
speed,  and  both  men  tapered  off  in  pace  consklerably  after  going  30  or  40  m.  When  M.. 
passed  50  m.,  F.  was  within  a  few  yds.  of  10  m.  to  the  bad,  and  when  he  reached  too,  F.. 
had  not  scored  79,  neither  having  made  a  dismount  or  slackened  for  an  instant  As  an- 
nounced from  the  judges'  stand  before  the  start,  the  time  limit  was,  as  usual,  10  h.,  and  a 
speciaJ  price  was  given  to  the  rider  covering  the  greatest  number  of  m.  in  that  time  without 
leaving  the  saddle.  M.  was  satisfied  with  his  day's  work  of  100  m.,  and  quit  at  once,  with 
no  further  apparent  inconvenience  than  a  sprained  heel.  F.  kept  on,  and,  encouraged  by  the 
officials,  succeeded  in  riding  loa^  m.  wdthout  a  dismount, — a  very  fair  performance  for  a  sick 
man.  The  100  m.  were  made  by  M.  in  7.25.52},  and  it  took  F.  9.45.48  to  run  his  loa  m.  (see 
score  in  Dec.  iVktflmant  p.  232).  F.  ran  his  last  \  in  58  sec,  and  would  have  gone  on  for  the 
full  10  h.;  but  the  officials  were  tired  and  hungry,  and  the  2  m.  sufficed  to  give  him  first  prize  for 
not  dismounting."  The  same  article  describes  the  100  m.  road  race  which  M.  won,  over  9  com- 
petitors, though  he  does  nqt  allude  to  himself  ais  vrinner  in  the  following  autobiography. 

"  I  began  on  a  Sundard  Columbia  (*  No.  to '),  in  the  fall  of  '80,  and  I  had  the  riding 
fever  so  bad  that  1  kept  on  wheeling  right  up  to  Christmas  of  that  year,  regardless  of  the- 
weather,  until  the  breaking  of  a  crank  brought  my  seauon's  sport  to  a  hah,  with  a  record  of 
about  750  m.  The  next  year  I  did  no  riding  to  speak  of,  except  one  trip  to  Boston  and  back 
in  12  h.,  which  was  considered  good  in  those  days.  My  total  for  '8t  did  not  exceed  300  m. 
It  was  in  '8a  that  I  began  to  ride  in  earnest,  though  mostly  over  roads  which  are  very  familiar 
to  you.  Of  course  all  my  wheeling  had  to  be  done  before  and  after  the  hours  of  work.  It 
Mras  in  the  fall  of  this  year  that  I  made  the  road  record  of  136  m.  in  company  with  Lincoln 
Holland.  We  rode  from  South  Framingham  to  Ipswich  (54  m.)  and  returned  to  Worcester  (83 
33 


S'4 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


m.),  inside  of  a2  h.  A  descripUon  of  the  load  uaveraed  was  publisbed  in  an  Oct.  nvaiba 
of  the  Bi.  World.  The  laurels,  if  so  they  can  be  «alled,  which  were  won  on  this  ride  woe 
soon  taken  away  by  the  Lawrence  B.  C,  but  I  was  deterained  not  to  be  beaten,  and  » 
(Nov.  5)  I  started  out  to  better  their  record  of  160  m.  This  resulted  in  my  riding  179  m.  iii«i*i 
the  limited  lime,  and  a  report  of  it  appeared  in  Uie  next  week's  BL  World;  also  in  Haiktt's 
"  Summaiy  of  Notable  Runs,"  in  the  WAeeimatt  (Jan.,  '83).  This  practicaDy  wxraod  up  my 
riding  for  '83,  giving  me  a  toul  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  ^th  snow)  I 
managed  to  reel  off  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  Mardi  only  9}  m.— 
thus  making*  a  little  over  100  before  the  riding  season  opened.  On  the  26ih  of  April  I  kft 
the  shop  and  for  the  next  8  months  did  little  else  but  ride  the  wheel.  It  was  in  May  that  I 
rode  the  4S  m.  straightaway  from  Worcester  to  Boston  without  dismounting;  and,  as  no  rcpvi 
of  this  was  ever  publbhed,  I  will  give  you  a  short  account  from  memory.  There  had  been 
considerable  talk  among  the  club  boys  regarding  the  length  of  time  it  would  take  to  lide 
from  W.  to  B.,  and  also  whether  it  were  possible  to  ride  the  distance  without  dismooniii^ 
I  determined  to  try  the  thing  at  least,  and  set  upon  the  day  of  the  Harvard  spring  races.  Un- 
fortunately,the  night  before  had  been  quite  stormy,  but  I  had  ridden  the  wheel  long  enough  to 
know  that  a  bicycler  could  not  always  have  everything  in  his  favor.  I  made  tire  start  at  pre- 
cisely 8. 15  A.  M.  from  the  Union  Depot.  The  rain,  the  night  before,  had  made  the  roads  qnite 
muddy,  and,  added  to  this,  a  stiff  little  breeze  began  to  blow  right  in  my  face ;  but,  after  a  doten 
m.  had  been  ridden,  the  latter  turned  around  in  my  favor.  Shrewsbury  hill  was  climbed  and  the 
town  pump  reached  without  any  trouble,  and  I  flew  down  the  hills  to  Northboro  in  very  quidc 
order.  From  N.  on,  the  roads  began  to  rapidly  improve,  and  by  the  time  Southboro  was  reached 
they  were  all  one  could  desire,  or  expect  on  that  route.  Before  this,  however,  in  leaving  N.,  I 
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  rain.  I  also  made  another  error 
in  going  from  Southboro  to  J'ramingham,  by  taking  a  rood  leading  over  a  long  hill,  very  aiwQar 
in  size  to  the  Shrewsbury  hill,  for  I  've  since  learned  that  there  was  a  much  better  road  aron^ 
it.  From  Framingham  on,  the  surface  was  fine  and  it  took  me  only  6  min.  to  skip  from  F.  10 
South  Framingham.  Except  one  narrow  escape  from  a  header,  nothing  occurred  between  S.  F. 
and  the  mill-dam,  where  my  cyclom.  registered  just  45  m.  from  W.,  and  my  watch  told  me  that  I 
had  been  3  h.  a;  min.  on  the  road.  I  must  say  I  felt  more  tired  and  used  up  after  this  ride  tfaaa 
any  other  I  ever  took,  though  the  weariness  only  lasted  a  short  time ;  and  after  dinner  I  fdt  as 
good  as  ever  and  attended  the  Harvard  races  on  the  Charles  river  in  the  afternoon, — not  retumii^ 
home  until  the  next  day.  I  consider  this  45  m.  ride  by  far  the  best  performance  1  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  Natick  to  a  little  beyond  Rowley  and  retnrn  U> 
Boston  B.  C.  house.  I  made  this  in  9  h.  47  min.,  including  all  stops;  and  I  afterwards  rode 
two  or  three  25  m.  races,  whose  details  I  believe  are  of  no  interest  to  you.  My  next  kmg  tide 
was  100  m.  without  dismount,  in  Washington.  This  was  on  a  track,  Jiowever  (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  ra.,  of  which 
284  m.  was  in  bi.  races  and  5  m.  in  a  tri.  race,  so  you  see  most  of  my  '83  riding  was  done  00  die 
road,  after  all,  and  xsoo  m.  of  it  was  tricycling.  In  '84  I  rode  very  little,  not  over  500  m.  ia  all; 
and  in  December  I  removed  to  Beaver  Falls.  I  have  done  scarcely  any  riding  here,  however,  as 
my  business  has  demanded  the  closest  attention.  I  think  250  ra.  is  a  fair  figure  to  represent  my 
record  for  '85.  Thus,  from  the  day  I  first  took  a  header  into  some  blackberry  bushes,  in  the 
autumn  of  *8o,  up  to  this  present  one  (Dec.  13,  '85),  my  mileage  may  be  called  To.4oa  Thb  is 
really  underestimated,  except  for  'Ss-'Ss,  in  which  years  I  kept  a  careful  record  and  know  it  to 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


SIS 


be  about  accurate.  The  latter  jear,  you  will  see,  covers  just  about  half  my  total  mfleage  for  the 
five.  Several  times  in  it  I  took  day's  rides  of  60  to  90  m. ,  but,  as  I  've  said,  all  of  them  were  on 
weU>known  roads.  As  for  my  performance  in  Washington,  the  only  notable  thing  was  the  sim- 
ple fact  of  keeping  the  saddle  100  m.  without  dismount.  I  wish  to  explain,  too,  that  there  was  a 
raiaundeTBtanding  in  the  papers,  at  the  time,  in  regard  to  this  race,  and  a  good  deal  of  blame 
was  unjustly  attached  to  the  Capital  B.  C;  whereas  the  truth  was  that  its  members  did  every- 
thing in  their  power  to  make  my  trip  to  the  Capital  a  pleasant  one ;  and  they  succeeded,  too. 
The  reception  I  had  there  will  always  remain  one  of  the  most  pleasant  recollections  of  my  bicy- 
cling days.  As  to  Beaver  Falls,  let  me  say  it  is  quite  a  growing  town  which  has  sprung  up  dur- 
ing the  last  14  years, — its  manufacturing  industry  being  confined  to  steel  products  chiefly,  and 
its  success  (in  a  sense,  its  very  existence)  being  due  to  its  favorable  location.  It  is  situated  on  the 
banks  of  the  Beaver  river,  4  m.  from  the  point  where  same  empties  into  the  Ohio.  Its  r.  r.  facili- 
ties cannot  bte  excelled.  It  just  abounds  in  natural  gas,  so  that  hardly  anything  else  in  the  shape 
of  fuel  is  used  here.  The  two  large  ranges  of  hilJs  between  which  the  town  lies  are  full  of  coal 
also,  though  little  of  it  is  now  mined.  Our  club,  the  Beaver  Valley  Wheelmen,  organized  last 
firing,  has  a  membership  of  14,  and  I  have  the  honor  of  being  captain.  Though  the  riding  sea- 
son is  not  as  long  as  in  the  East,  we  have  lots  of  fun  and  plenty  of  diances  for  trying  our  wheeK 
For  one  who  loves  scenery  better  than  fast  riding,  Beaver  Falls  is  a  very  good  place,  since  our 
scenery  is  superb ;  whichever  way  you  turn,  you  see  long  ranges  of  hills  and  abrupt  bluffs  mixed 
in  with  winding  sheets  of  water.  Our  hills  here,  would  in  Mass.  be  called  mountains,  and 
really  some  of  them  are  not  unlike  the  hills  we  went  over  in  our  Mt.  Desert  ride.  We  have  one 
rood  which  I  have  called  '  the  Campobello,*  owing  to  its  similarity  in  scenery  (only  this  is  finer 
than  the  New  Brunswick  original),  and  another  which  I  call  '  Mt.  Desert,*  for  a  reason  I  have 
no  need  to  explain.    You  can  rest  assured  we  don't  ride  over  the  latter  very  often." 

That  other  member  of  the  "  unbent  handle-bar  four  at  Mt.  Desert,"  whose  intention  to 
wheel  homeward  therefrom  I  noted  on  p.  279,  was  W.  L.  Perham  (b.  Jan.  1,  1865),  who  after- 
wards reported  to  me  as  follows  :  **  My  trip  extended  from  Bar  Harbor  to  Bangor,  59  m. ;  thence 
by  way  of  Rockland  to  Portland,  165  m.,  where  I  stopped  over  the  4th  of  July  celebration; 
thence  home  to  Paris,  50  m.  ;  thence  by  way  of  Conway  to  the  Glen  House  (at  the  foot  of  Mt. 
Washington),  72  m.,  and  back  through  Gorham  to  Paris,  48  m. ;  thence  through  Skowhegan, 
Dexter  and  Bangor  to  Orono  ,155  m.,  making  a  total  of  549  m.,  without  any  crossing  or  doubling 
of  my  track,  excepting  at  Portland  on  the  bridge."  His  letter  of  Jan.  24,  '86,  reads  thus  :  "  I 
got  my  first  Sundard  Columbia  July  29,  '82,  and  when  I  ended  my  last  ride  on  it,  Aug.  i,  '84, 
the  record  was  10,141  m.  The  old  wheel  was  slightly  shaky  then,  after  two  years  of  such  usage, 
though  you  remember  I  'm  not  subject  to  falls.  My  '83  mileage  was  4850  (av.  ride,  31  m.) ;  last 
5  mos.  of  '82,  2164  (av.  ride,  24  m.) ;  first  7  mos.  of  '84,  3124.  My  new  wheel  reached  me  at  5 
p.  M.  of  Aug.  t  (it  is  a  54  in.  Standard,  nickeled,  though  the  first  was  painted),  and  at  6  a.  m. 
of  the  2d,  I  started  off  on  it  for  a  straightaway  run  for  Bangor,  120  m.,  which  I  finished  at 
6.07  p.  M.  At  Augusta,  4S  m.,  I  stopped  19  min.,  to  drink  a  quart  of  milk;  and,  afterwards, 
in  trying  to  get  to  B.  inside  the  even  ra  h.,  I  rather  strained  myself,  though  I  wheeled  53  m.  next 
day.  During  the  rest  of  '84, 1  rode  1584  ra.,  making  a  total  of  47 11,  with  an  average  day's  ride 
of  42  m.  In  '85  my  mileage  was  only  16S1,  with  an  av.  ride  of  11  m.  The  reason  is  that  my 
employment  at  drawing,  in  an  architect's  office  at  Paris,  leaves  only  my  early  mornings  and 
evenings  for  the  wheel.  Still,  you  see  my  mileage  for  less  than  3^  years  foots  up  to  13,406.  I 
use  a  McDonnell  cydom.,  which  1  have  .tested  thoroughly  on  standard  trotting4racks  (we 
have  no  cinder  paths  in  Maine)  and  I  find  it  registers  47  m.  for  48  m.  on  the  track.  This  is  all 
1  would  ask  for  as  to  accuracy,  though  I  exchanged  my  cydora.  several  times  before  getting  a 
good  one.  My  winter  pastime  is  snow-shoeing,  and  I  find  it  nearly  as  fasdnating  as  wheeling." 
Theodore  Rothe  (b.  Nov.  it,  1857)  was  second  by  57  min.  in  the  too  ra.  race  which  began  at 
6-30  A.  M.,  of  Oct.  6,  '83  (and  of  whose  winner  the  Wheelman  said  :  "  Midgley  was  perfectly 
fresh  at  the  finish,  and  could,  without  doubt,  have  made  much  faster  time  if  he  had  been 
poshed  "),  his  record  being  10  h.  45  min.  The  third  man  was  L.  A.  Peabody,  of  Marblehead,  in 
>i  h.  25  min. ;  and  the  fourth  was  J.  F.  McClure,  of  the  Wtuilman^  at  12  h.  40  min.    Mr.  R. 


5i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

has  been  for  some  years  connected  with  the  International  Hotel,  at  Boston  (623-635  Wadmf- 
ton  st.)>  and  has  put  this  book  on  file  at  its  office,  besides  subscribing  for  a  personal  oopjr.  He 
was  one  of  the  "  six  in  the  Down  East  party  who  took  the  noon  boat  homeward  from  the  iaif 
at  Lubcc  "  (p.  269) ;  and,  by  way  of  atoning  for  this  desertion,  he  consented  to  prepare  a  few 
personal  statistics  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,  '82,  and  I  estimate  it  at  2300  for  the 
year,  though  I  made  no  registry  of  it  until  Sept.  For  '83  I  *ve  kept  a  full  re<»rd,  and  it  sIkms 
119  rides  with  a  mileage  of  3692,  and  consequently  a  remarkable  average  of  3  s  m.  per  ride. 
There  were  6  rides  of  between  50  and  60  m.,  3  of  between  60  and  70  m.,  i  of  73  m.,  i  of  81  ou, 
I  of  103  m.,  and  i  of  1 16  m. ;  yet  I  remember  of  but  two  days  when  I  kept  the  saddle  unttssaSr 
long.  The  first  occasion  was  a  round  trip  to  Brockton  ;  the  out  ride  of  22  m.  was  made  in  1  k 
55  min.  without  dismount ;  and  then,  after  a  5  min.  stop,  I  made  the  return  of  24  m.  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route,  in  2  h.  30  min.,  over  the  Blue  hills,  also  without  dismount.  On  this  uip  a  pecal- 
iar  adventure  happened.  While  riding  at  my  very  best  speed,  over  a  perfect  road,  I  soddenly 
noticed,  within  a  few  rods,  two  planks  (covering  what  proved  to  be  a  full-sized  lire  hose)  stretched 
across  the  road.  Imagine  my  pleasure !  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,  I.  e.y  obstructions,  and  I  did  make  the  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  tbal 
carried  roe  over  safely.  My  second  long-stay-in -saddle  ride  was  Oct.  4,  two  days  before  our  100 
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  tbcacs 
home,  making  34  m.  in  all  without  dismount.  In  the  100  m.  race,  we  covered  about  60  ra.  of 
roadway,  but  1  Ve  no  idea  of  the  amount  of  roadway  covered  by  me  in  my  year's  riding,  e»xpt 
that  it  would  be  very  small,  as  thsre  are  but  few  roads  leading  from  the  city.  Most  of  my  rid- 
ing was  done  afternoons,  and  as  I  almost  always  returned  to  business  for  i  or  2  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.  £.  States  except  Vt.,--my  longest  straightaway  being  oa 
the  return  from  the  '  Down  East  trip  *  when,  in  company  with  Mr.  Waterman,  I  rode  fatwi 
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."  His 
riding  during  the  next  two  years  brought  the  total  mileage  up  to  1 1,344,  as  shown  by  his  letter  to 
me  of  Dec.  9,  '85,  containing  these  further  statistics.  "  During  '84,  I  rode  3215  m.  in  137  rides, 
average  23}  ra.  to  a  ride ;  3  rides  of  more  than  50  m.,  1  of  62  m.,  i  of  108  m.,  and  the  annoal  too 
m.  race  of  Boston  B.  C.  My  after-dark  mileage,  without  a  lantern,  was  about  370  m.  My  *Ss 
record  to  date  is  2137  m.,  representing  108  rides.  The  fact  of  my  marriage  a  year  ago  acoonots 
for  my  not  wheeling  so  much  lately, — the  average  *8s  ride,  3rou  see,  being  only  about  10^  m. 
Nevertheless,  I  took  i  of  55,  i  of  60  and  i  of  68 ;  doing  our  annual  zoo  m.  race  in  the  fine  time 
of  8^  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  possiUe,  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  iL 
The  only  other  liquid  I  look  was  at  about  55  m.— (sonie  beef  tea),  when  I  made  my  only  stop  for 
a  rub-down,  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  Humber." 

Albert  Stevens  Parsons  (b.  Nov.  16,  184 1),  treasurer  of  the  Cambridgeport  Diary  Qa.,  b 
one  of  those  prominent  pioneers  of  cycling  who  ought  to  have  supplied  a  long  story  for  this 
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  membership 
list,  at  Newport  (May,  '80),  and  he  was  an  officer  in  it  till  '83, — serving  first  as  its  correspond- 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS. 


517 


ixkg  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  '80,  '81  and  '82 ;  began  riding  in  Nov.,  '78,  and 
took  part  in  the  "Wheel  Around  the  Hub,"  Sept.,  '79;  was  then  a  resident  of  Cambridge, 
though  bom  at  Northfield,  and  now  lives  at  Lexington,  and  rides  from  his  house  there  to  his 
office  in  Cambridgeport  (105  Magazine  St.,  where  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  eveiy  week.     I  've  had  a  dally  record  of  25  m.,  nearly  every  pleasant  day,  for 
months  at  a  time.    My  bicycling  has  been  continuous,  both  for  business  and  pleasure,  through  7 
seasons,  and  the  average  must  exceed  2000  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 
cycJom.  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  Neviton  (by  a  man  whose 
name  just  now  escapes  me)  for  a  year ;  then  a  Standard  Columbia,  for  3  years ;  and  since,  an 
Expert, — the  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,  '85,  I  add  a  remark  made  by  "  C.  S.  H."  {IV/ieei,  Jan.  22,  '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  published  in  the  IVhteiman  (Nov.,  '82),  and  he  also  contributed  many  pieces  to  the 
earlier  volumes  of  the  BL  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  '81),  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, 1121, 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- 
vincible, 3864 ;  48 in.  Royal  Salvo  sociable,  233;  48  in.  tricycle  (hired),  no;  48  in.  Invincible 
tvi-,  1394 ;  48  in.  Cripper  tri.,  288.    This  shows  2025  m.  for  tricycling,  as  compared  with  8893  m. 
on  the  bicycle,  though  I  've  not  ridden  the  bi.  at  all  in  '85.    All  ray  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 
ttsed  Butcher's.    They  went  wrong  at  first,  being  their  earlier  productions.     I  have  now  one  of 
the  latest  patterns,  and  am  perfectly  satisfied.     It  is  a  great  comfort  to  be  able  to  read  it  from 
the  saddle.    As  to  oflioes,  I  was  League  consul  for  Lowell,  until  I  resigned,  and  am  now  C.  T. 
C.  consul  for  Lowell ;  I  have  been  capuin  of  the  Lowell  B.  C,  and  am  still  a  member  of  it,  as 
wen  as  a  life-member  of  the  Bostons."    I  judge  from  his  letter-head,  that  Mr.  F.  is  connected 
with  the  U.  S.  Bunting  Co.,  at  Lowell.    The  BL  World  of  Dec.  25,  '85,  mentions  a  group  pho- 
tc^raph  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.  Hemmenway  (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  Cun- 
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  (S433i  m.).  My  earliest  cyclometer  was  one  of  the  first  style  made  by 
the  Popes,  and  it  was  very  unsatisfactory.  The  principle  of  its  operation  being  entirely  defective, 
it  would  record  on  the  average  only  about  §  the  distance  ;  so  T  placed  no  reliance  on  it.  My 
second  eye  was  of  my  own  manufacture,  remodeled  from  the  first.  It  was  perfectly  accurate, 
and  I  used  it  for  3200  m.  My  present  eye.  is  a  Butcher,  which  I  have  run  about  5000  m.  It  is 
made  on  a  correct  principle  and  its  durability  depends  merely  upon  the  quality  of  the  workman- 
ship.    In  the  first  cyclometers  made  by  the  Butcher  Qq.  the  work  was,  unfortunateTy,  very  poor 


5i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

and  a  good  deal  of  trouble  was  caused  thereby.     I  have  spent  considerable  time   in 
mine,  which  is  one  of  the  same  '84  lot  that  your  own  bek>nged  to,  but  I  undezstand   these  de- 
fects have  since  been  fully  remedied.     I  find  it  a  great  advantage  to  be  able  to  read  the  cfc 
from  the  saddle,  and,  so  far  as  my  knowledge  of  such  things  goes,  I  consider  the  Butcher  the 
best.    I  have  carried  a  small  lantern  on  it  for  from  500  to  600  m.;  but  it  is  not  as  oonvenieot  asa 
'  King  of  the  Road,'  which  I  have  since  used  (without  the  eye.,  because  a  hub-lantern  1 
adjustable  friction  device  to  prevent  it  from  swinging  to  and  fro).    My  mileage  by  yeai« 
thus,— the  new  roadway  explored  each  season  being  shown  by  parenthesis :      tos8|  (450X   9B4| 
(75)»  74oJ  («oo),  X501I  (160),  1203J  (80),  2752^  (60),  32924  (165),— a  total  of  ii,453i  (k>9«>)-     My 
monthly  mileage  for  '84  and  '85  may  be  compared  as  follows:    Jan.,  23},  25!  ;  Feb.,  zaf,  jo; 
Mar.,  58},  15 1|;  Apr.,  207^,  294! ;  May,  304I,  307  i;  June,  405!,  334J  ;  July,  300},  403^;  Ai^, 
361I,  441J;  Sept.,  330},  46iJ  i  Oct.,  382J,  4oiJ ;   Nov.,  249I,  283^  ;  Dec,  1064.  157^.    The  ki- 
crease  of  mileage  for  the  past  two  years  is  due  to  a  change  in  my  place  of  business,  wlierefaj  I 
am  enabled  to  use  the  wheel  daily  in  going  to  and  from  my  work  (7  m.  each  way).     I  can  th^ 
put  it  to  a  most  practical  service  and  at  the  same  time  derive  much  benefit  from  the  daily  eaer- 
dse.    My  two  longest  day's  rides  were  Aug.  26,  *82,  Dorchester  to  Newburyport  aod  faadc, 
103!  m.  (see  Bi.  Worlds  Sept.  8,  p.  533),  and  Sept.  6,  ^82,  in  annual   100  ro.  race  of  tbe  Boston 
B.  C.  (see  Hazlett's  '  Sxmimary,'  H-'keeimoM,  Jan.,  ^83),  when  my  individual  score  was  105^  ib." 
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  inspbiac 
others  to  take  the  road  than  from  his  own  personal  achievements  on  the  wheel.     His  coonectkm 
with  one  of  (he  large  r.  r.  offices  in  Chicago  has  enabled  him,  as  chairman  of  the  League** 
transportation  committee,  to  take  the  proper  measures  for  convincing  the  railroad  people  in  geo- 
eral  that  it  is  for  their  interest  to  encourage  bicycle  touring,  and  gain  the  good-will  of  wheehncsa, 
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  laigest  and  most  impressive  (fis- 
plays  of  practical  wheelmanship  that  have  ever  anywhere  been   witnessed.     His  three   aniraal 
tours  through  Canada  (alluded  to  on  pp.  198,  215,  314,  320,  509)  have  proved  so  satiaCactocy  aad 
increasingly  successful  as  to  lead  the  League  to  invest  him  with  the  spedal  office  of  "  tourntas- 
ter,"  in  order  that  the  fourth  tour  ('86)  may  be  directly  under  its  auspices.     Readers  of  tlw 
cycling  press  have  for  years  been  familiar  with  his  name  or  initials  as  a  signature,  of  coatribo- 
tions  which  are  pretty  certain  to  be  readable,  though  his  "  readiness  "  as  a  writer  oocasiosiaily 
leads  him  to  indulge  in  pleasing  generalities  that  are  somewhat  at  variance  with  the  haid  facts 
of  the  case.    E.  g. ,  the  stupidly  vexatious  customs  regulations  of  Canada — which,  if  strictly  en- 
forced, would  prohibit  United  States  citizens  from  attempting  to  penetrate  that  oovntry  with 
their  bicycles — have  been  alluded  to  by  him  in  a  printed  letter  as  if  entirely  satisfactory  (see  p. 
3x1) ;  while  a  glowing  phrase  of  his,  in  the  prospectus  of  the  "  clerical  wheelmen's  Canatfiaa 
tour,"  declaring  that  "  all  the  rcHtds  there  are  like  boulevards,"  would  have  led  to  his  being  totn 
limb  from  limb,— if  the  deceived  clergymen  could  have  got  bodily  hold  of  him,  when 
ated  to  the  pitch  of  desperation  by  a  40  m.  tramp  across  roads  which  at  best  are  barely  1 
ble !    As  he  was  in  fact  beyond  their  reach,  the  only  solace  left  them  was  to  remember  him  m 
their  prayers, — and  trust  the  non-clerical  half  of  the  party  to  do  the  cursing  (see  p.  z^^y.     His 
escape  from  destruction  by  their  righteous  wrath  was  a  happy  thing  for  the  cause  of  cycling, 
since  (speaking  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  1 
and  my  object  in  thus  noting  these  little  slips  from  accuracy,  which  can   hardly  be  helped  1 
an  exuberant  fancy  expresses  itself  in  the  rapid  manipulation  of  a  type-writer,  is  rather  id  il- 
lustrate the  rule  that  all  men  have  their  limitations,  than  to  detract  anything  from  tbe  respect 
due  for  solid  results  actually  brought  to  pass.     As  I  wished,' too,  to  give  his  story  a  siaable  sort 
of  paragraph  in  this  book  (for  the  drift  of  thought  which  finally  led  me  to  conceive  the  idea  of 
writing  it  was,  in  a  sense,  set  in  motion  by  some  hearty  praise  of  his  concemii^  my  **  S34*' 
reminiscences  in  the  Wheelman),  I  was  forced  to  *'  cover  space  "  by  providing  a  long  introdoc- 
tion  to  it ;  because  the  longest  autobiography  I  could  extract  from  him  was  this  :    "II 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  519 

riding  a  46  in.  Ariel,  Oct.  5.  ^jt^-^iYit  same  1000th  the  Chicago  B.  C.  waa  orgamzed,>-aiid  I 
wheeled  aoo  m.  that  year ;  rode  a  Standard  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  tourf  around  Gfand  Rapids,  Mich.,  the  first 
month  I  learned  to  ride,  and  eng^ed  in  annual  three  days'  nina  oi  the  Milwaukee  B.  C,  in 
^^aukesha  Co.,  Wis.,  in  *8o,  '81  and  '83,  besides,  of  course,  the  Canadian  tours  of  '83,  '84  and 
'85.  My  mileage  is  fully  13,100,  and  its  distribution  through  the  last  six  seasons  was  about  as 
follows  :    1300,  3400,  3100,  3300,  tSoo  and  3100.    My  birthplace  was  Lambeth,  Onurio." 

Though  the  Chicago  B.  C  proclaims  itself  very  little  in  the  papers,  it  is  one  of  the  perma- 
nent institutions  of  that  wide-awake  dty,  and  has  probably  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  record  of  5078^  m.  in  '84,  which  was  tabulated  thus  by  months  (J>r.  tVk.  Gas.^ 
Feb.,  '85,  p.  160) :  Jan.,  95 ;  Feb.,  91^ ;  Mar.,  134;  Apr.,  385^ ;  May,  45H ;  JunCf  553  i  July, 
438^ ;  Aug.,  703  ;  Sept.,  447 ;  Oct.,  sjS  \  Nov.,  886 ;  De&,  319.  He  confirmed  the  authemicity 
of  this  in  a  letter  to  me  (Jan.  ao,  *86),  saying  thatt  he  estimated  his  total  riding  as  9000  m.  addi- 
tional, whereof  '85  should  be  accredited  with  4500,  and  '83  with  3500,  though  he  did  not  keep  a 
monthly  record  of  milej^e  in  either  year.  The  letter  adds :  ''  I  learned  to  ride  the  bL  in  Dec, 
'79,  and  think  my  mileage  was  at  least  aooo,  on  rented  and  borrowed  machines,  before  I  bou|^t 
a  wheel  of  my  ovni,  at  the  close  of  '83.  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  rery  unsatisfactory, — the  cam  being  too 
flexible  and  the  rubber  coming  off, — while  one  of  my  McDonnells  has  registered  3000  m.  and  is 
stall  correct  During  '84  I  used  two  of  them,— one  on  a  56  in.  Expert,  whidi  registered  over 
4aoo  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  1300  m.  of  it :  111.,  Ind.,  O.,  N.  Y.,  Minn,  and  Ont.  My 
fint  road  ride  was  in  Oct.,  '80,  I  think,— a  trip  with  the  dub  to  S.  Chicago  and  back.  My  first 
race  was  Feb.  33,  '83 ;  and,  if  you  care  to  mention  my  path  perfonnances,  I  suggest  that  Mr. 
Ayers  might  send  a  more  impartial  account  of  them  than  I  can  "  (see  p.  331)1 

During  the  prevbus  year,  another  member  of  the  same  dub,  who  was  then  its  Tice-president 
and  a  consul  of  the  League,  made  an  even  higher  record,— running  up  an  annua]  mileage  far  in 
excess  of  any  before  accredited  to  an  American.  This  was  Frank  £.  Yates  (b.  May  iS,  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-ecuU  races,  which  induded  the  American  amateur  cham. 
juoDship  in  '74  and  '76.  He  began  riding  the  bL  Oct.  17,  '83,  and  probably  accomplished  aoo 
m.,  though  he  took  no  note  of  it.  His  *83  record,  in  addition  to  333  m.  of  tricyding,  was  50P 
ra.,  distributed  through  the  months  as  follows  :  Jan.,  110;  Feb.,  218^;  Mar.,  383 ;  Apr.,  617^ ; 
May,  338;  June,  573;  July,  403;  Aug.,  468;  Sept.,  568;  Oct.,  437;  Nov.,  698;  Dec,  349. 
His  letter  which  enclosed  these  scores  to  me  Quly  1 1 ,  '84)  said:  "  The  large  figures  are  ac- 
counted for  by  the  fact  that  I  am  an  enthusiast  at  bicycling,  and.iny  business  is  such  as  to  enable 
me  to  ride  3o(  h.  out  of  the  34,  should  I  fed  disposed,  since  I  am  engaged  only  during  Board  of 
Trade  hours  (9.30  a.  m.  to  i  p.  m.).  My  riding  was  done  almost  entirely  on  the  streets  and 
boulevards  and  in  the  parks  of  the  dty,  save  two  trips  to  South  Chicago  and  one  to  Riverdale, 
probably  100  m.  all  told.  My  wife  having  a  tricyde,  we  frequently  were  out  as  late  as  ts  o'dock 
at  night,  and  I  presume  she  must  have  ridden  nearly  aooo  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  dozen  before  I  got  one  that  was  correct.  My  wheel  was  a  54  in. 
Columbia  Expert,  during  the  last  nine  months,  for  until  March  31  I  rode  a  53  in.  Expert;  and, 
except  for  two  headers  (one  with  each  wheel,  breaking  two  handle-bars  and  one  crank),  they 
never  cost  me  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  affura,  and  I  *ve  kept  no  monthly  record."  A 
postscript  of  Dec.  10,  *8$,  adds :  "  From  Aug.,  '84, 1  was  traveling  throi^h  California,  Oregon, 
Monuna,  Washington  Territory  and  elsewhere,  and  dkl  not  return  to  Chicago  till  May  i.    M' 


S20  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

record  was  thus  bn^Een  up,  but  I  presame  I  may  have  wheeled  1500  m.  this  yrar.  I  should  be 
glad  to  see  your  book  make  mention  of  Miss  Annie  Sylvester,  who  is  to-day  the  finest  bicycle 
rider  in  the  world,  m»v/'  As  Mr.  Y.  is  now  the  busmess  manager  of  this  remarkable  perfonner, 
his  opinion  of  her  merits  may  not  be  entirely  impartial,  but  I  will  not  on  that  acooont  be  so  «a- 
gallant  as  to  begrudge  the  q>ace  for  a  brief  descriptive  extract  from  his  circular:  "  This  peer- 
less  queen  of  the  cydists,  the  world's  acknowledged  diampion  lady  trick  and  fancy  rider,  toes 
both  the  Columbia  and  Sur  bicydes  in  her  marvelous  exhibitions.  She  is  the  ^mly  lady  who  has 
ever  ridden  the  Sur.  and  the  first  and  only  lady  to  accomplish  the  difficult  feat  of  riding  a  siiicSe 
wheel.  She  is  nnivcnally  conceded  to  be  the  most  graceful  rider  living,  and  has  never  yet  iv- 
eeived  an  adverse  criticism  either  from  the  press  or  her  audiences." 

Utah's  oldest  rider  is  probably  Geo.  J.  Taylor  (b.  Jan.  jt,  1834),  one  of  the  editors  of  tbe 
Dntrti  Svtmng  New,  and  coroner  of  Salt  Lake  County,  whose  letter  to  me  (Aug.  16,  'S^) 
said :  "  I  yesterday  raised  my  mileage  record  to  10,006,— being  led  thereto  by  pressure  of  b>ns>- 
ness  whidi  kept  me  on  the  wheel,  for  I  had  not  intended  to  finish  uotH  the  i8th,  so  as  to  make 
exactly  five  years  of  it.  I  began  Aug.  19^  '79,  with  a  48  in.  Columbia,  and  rode  1500  m.  thai 
year ;  gradually  increasing  afterwards  until  in  '83  I  made  2500  m.  My  second  wheel  was  a  50 
in.  Harvard,  all  bright,  and  I  now  use  a  50  in.  Expert,  nickeled,  with  cradle  sprin|^,  thoc^  I 
coukl  ride  a  53  in.  My  longest  straightaway  tour  was  56  m.;  longest  riding  innn  9  ▲.  >c.  tiD 
dusk,  50  m.;  swiftest  ride,  on  a  rather  rough  road,  17  m.  in  1}  h."  *'The  best  cydom.  is  the 
Petite  Butcher,  which  weighs  only  a  oz.,  and  never  fails  to  register  correctly,"  says  his  note  of 
Dec  15,  'Ss,  which  endoses  an  extract  from  the  AVcev,  descriptive  of  a  patent  which  was 
granted  him  July  38,  thus:  "  The  improvement  consists  of  a  short  lever  attached  to  the  usua] 
pedal-pin  extending  several  inches  rearward,  where  it  is  hinged  to  a  swinging  fnlcnun-rod,  whicii 
rod  is  hinged  to  tbe  upper  part  of  the  fork,  thereby  allowing  the  lever  to  /ollow  the  crank  mo- 
tion with  almost  absolute  freedom  from  friction,  while  at  the  same  time  it  acts  as  a  fulcnnn  for 
the  lever,  which  with  the  pedal  projects  forward  of  the  crank  far  enough  to  give  a  considerable 
advantage  in  leverage  over  the  ordinary  crank.  The  added  weight  on  the  machine  need  not 
exceed  a  lbs.,  and  the  friction  is  so  slight  that  when  the  wheel  is  suspended  it  will  run  5  or  6  mia. 
without  stopping.  Its  advantages  are  that  it  gives  the  rider  more  power  in  driving  his  vrfaeel, 
while  at  the  same  time  it  shortens  the  foot  motion  several  in.,  giving  a  long,  full  downstroke, 
which  passes  the  dead  center,  with  a  comparatively  short  upstroke.  The  crank^m  can  also  be 
used  as  a  pedal,  giving  a  stfll  shorter  motion  for  down  hill  and  easy  grades,  thereby  avoiding;  the 
monotony  of  the  continuous  long  motion  of  the  ordinary  crank.  It  will  also  admit  of  a  foot- 
rest  on  the  rear  of  the  lever.  Another  advantage  is,  that  by  simply  lowering  the  fuIcnmi.rod, 
which  can  be  done  m  twomin.,  a  small  man  can  ride  as  laiige  a  wheel  as  he  can  dimb  npoo. 
The  increased  power  has  been  fully  tested  by  means  of  weights  and  scales  as  well  as  by  road- 
riding.  The  invention  will  be  an  even  greater  advanta^  on  a  tri.  than  on  a  hi "  His  post- 
script, Jan.  87,  adds  :  "  My  mileage  to  date  is  18,705,  and  I  *ve  done  the  last  1500  m.  of  it  on  my 
patent  treadles,  without  taking  a  header.  I  ride  every  day,  whiter  or  summer,  rain  or  shine, 
over  all  sorts  of  roads.  I  've  used  the  Pope  and  McDonncH,  but  prefer  the  Petite  Butcher 
cyclom.  to  either  of  them,  or  to  any  I  »ve  yet  seen." 

Thomas  B.  Somere  (b.  July  6,  1840),  is  book-keeper  for  Whitafl,  Tatum  &  Co.,  large  mak- 
era  of  glassware,  at  Millville,  N.  J.,  which  is  a  manufacturing  place  with  8000  or  9000  inhabit- 
ants, of  whom  more  than  roo  are  owners  of  the  bi.  or  tri.  "  Quite  a  variety  of  English  makes 
are  represented,"  he  writes,  Sept.  9,  '85,  "for  the  Expert  did  not  find  much  favor  undl  T got  my 
present  one.  I  Ve  pushed  this  well  to  the  front,  by  giving  it  plenty  of  Just  commendation,  and 
now  we  have  quite  a  number,— all  of  which  prove  to  us  that  it  was  our  mistake  in  not  taking  to 
that  machine  before.  In  April,  '79,  soon  after  learamg  to  ride  the  bone-shaker,  I  ordered  a 
Columbia,  which  reached  me  June  r  (see  p.  24)1  and  which  I  superseded  July  ro,  *8o,  by  a  50 
in.  Spedal  Columbia,  small  tires,  half  nickel,  which  I  sold  in  Feb.,  '84.  Then  for  a  while  I 
usedaSanspareil,  belonpngtoa  friend  whose  health  would  not  permit  winter  riding;  but  in 
April  bought  a  British  Challenge,  which  was  too  heavy  (50  lbs.)  and  whose  rear  fork  was  too 
weak,  so  that  in  Sept.  I  traded  it  for  the  Expert  which  I  have  since  ridden  with  entire  satisfac- 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  521 

tioo,  lOcing  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 
herein  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  limes.  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  in  ball-bearings  and  a  new  axle.  Ex- 
cept during  these  times  of  repair,  it  has  been  in  use  nearly  every  ridable  day  for  upwards  of  7 
yean ;  and  would  thus  make  a  good  mate  for  your  *  No.  334.' 

"My  riding  has  all  been  done  in  New  Jersey,  south  of  Camden,  where  we  have  a  con- 
siderable mileage  of  good  roads— the  best  straightaway  run  being  40  m.,  through  Salem  and  \\- 
lowaystown  to  Woodstown.  This  round>trip  of  80  m.  represents  my  longest  day's  ride  ;  and 
o«ce  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  3}  h.  This  is  a  sandy  country, 
and,  as  our  roads  are  made  of  gravel  or  day,  they  do  not  long  ren»in  muddy.  We  have  consid- 
erable £air  riding  through  the  winter,  and  durit^  the  last  \  of  the  year  I  nuike  good  use  of  ten 
moonlight  nights  each  month,  if  the  weather  is  clear.  As  I  live  }  m.  from  the  office,  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  nearly  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  '85  mileage  is  much  less  than  usual,  on 
this  account,  for  my  after-supper  ride  is  now  only  10  or  15  m.,  instead  of  30  or  35  m.  which  it 
lifted  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.  i,  *86,  adds:  "  My  riding  for  the  last  10 
mos.  amounted  to  4710  m.,  of  which  1103}  was  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.,  564I ;  Nov.,  468J ;  Dec,  417}.  All  through  Dec,  our  roads  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  1  then  attached  registered  wih  perfect  accuracy  to  Nov.  a8,  from  which  time  it  has  lost 
from  I  to  I  on  neariy  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 
most  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.  Dowling  (b. 
Aug.  X,  1835),  a  resdent  of  Camden,  at  536  Broadway,  though  his  place  of  business  is  in  Phila., 
at  406  Penn  st.  He  learned  to  ride  the  ordinary  bicycle,  by  taking  a  dozen  lessons  in  Oct.,  *8i, 
but  bought  a  51  in.  Star,  at  second  hand.  May  10,  '82,  and  has  used  it  ever  since,  though  it  shows 
wgns  of  hard  wear.  His  son  Harry  (b.  Aug.  6,  1870)  learned  on  a  wooden  bicycle,  in  Sept.,  *8i, 
and  in  Dec  bought  a  42  in.  wheel  which  he  has  since  ridden,  in  company  with  his  father,  who 
writes:  "  Our  mileage  record  from  May  10  to  Dec.  31,  '83,  was  1871 ;  in  '83,  2501 ;  and  in  '84, 
1930,— 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,— partly  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  Joe  (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  3o  m.,  but  I  do  not  think  it  well  to  push  him  farther,  as  his  wheel  runs  rather  hard.  My 
oldest  son,  x.  27,  is  not  a  rider,  and  T  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 
once  resided,  and  it  is  my  custom  to  spend  many  evenings  there, — ^leaving  Camden  abmit  7  and 
returning  about  11.  I  wheel  the  xo  m.  in  65  to  70  min.  and  return  in  55  to  60  min.,  as  the  grade 
is  down  to  C.     Another  favorite  evening  ride  of  mine  I  call  ^be  triangle.    The  first  side,  from 


522 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


C.  to  Mt  Ephraim,  5  m.,  ia  rolliagbat  good.  The  bsMC,  froB  M.  £.  to  HaddonfieU,  3  m.,  has  a 
foot-path  all  the  way,  the  first  ^  m.  on  s.  side,  the  rest  on  n.  The  triangle's  chird  side,  fnam  U. 
to  the  starting  point  at  C,  6  m.,  is  all  level  and  slightly  down-grade.  I  have  oiten  done  the  14  m. 
without  dismount  in  i^  h.  The  road  from  Gloucester  to  Woodbury,  4  m.,  apd  ihioiigh  W.,  1 
m.,  is  always  good,  and  has  often  been  ridden  in  20  niin.,  either  way,  as  it  is  level.  My  1 
ride  was  taken  Nov.  22,  to  Quakertown  and  back,  84  m.  My  record  for  '85,  showing  the  1 
age,  the  riding  days,  and  the  longest  ride  for  each  month,  is  as  follows:  Jan.,  10,  i.io;  FtJn, 
42,  3,  20 ;  Mar.,  131,  8,  25  ;  Apr.,  146,  9,  sa ;  May,  267, 10,  46 ;  June,  297,  u,  40 ;  July.  38$,  14, 
65;  Aug.,  355i  «4t65;  SepL,345.  ",60;  Oct.,  199,  10,40;  Nov.,  353,  11,84;  Dec:,  53,4.90. 
This  gives  a  total  of  25S8  for  the  year,  and  8880  for  the  4  years.  In  early  spring  as  wcQ  as  ia 
fall,  the  gravel  pikes  which  are  the  rule  in  N.  J.  are  somewhat  soft ;  but  in  .summer  they  an 
good.  The  stone  pikes  are  generally  heavy  after  a  long  rain ;  also  in  the  fall  the  1 
have  a  bad  habit  of  cleaning  out  the  ditches  on  each  side  and  throwing  the  dirt  up  on  the  i 
which  makes  tough  riding,  as  it  does  not  pack  until  frost  comes,  and  then  it  often  freezes  vcfy 
rutty.  The  gravel  pikes  iu  N.  J.  are  scraped  after  each  snow,  and,  if  it  is  freezing  weatber,  they 
are  magnificent  then— as  smooth  as  a  floor.  As  the  young  men  au-ound  here  who  are  from  ao  to 
30  years  old  are  afraid  of  the  cold,  and  I  do  not  care  to  ride  much  alone,  I  do  not  do  much  winter 
riding.  However,  I  have  ridden  several  times  both  on  the  Pelaware  and  Schuykill  riven  wfaeD 
frozen  and  found  it  splendid  sport,— the  only  drawback  being  the  inability  to  turn,  as  the  wbed 
slips  from  under  you  when  attempting  to  do  so.  I  give  you  the  distances  in  m.  by  gravel  pike, 
from  my  house  m  Camden  to  16  towns,  which  I  have  made  the  mid-day  turning-point  ol  ouiraod- 
back  day's  rides  as  follows:  ML  Ephraim,  5  ;  Haddonfi^eld,  6 ;  Williarostown,  ao ;  Moorestowa, 
10 ;  Ml  Holly, 20;  Burlington,  25 ;  Bordentown,  35 ;  Woodbury,  9;  Glassboro,  ao;  Woodatoiwii, 
25  ;  Newfiekl,  35  ;  Vineland,  38 ;  Haromondton,  35 ;  Trenton,  40;  Hardington,  as ;  Bevcriy,  ao. 
I  liave  also  ridden  from  Phila.  to  Wilmington  and  back,  60  m.,  and  sometimes  have  gone  6  m. 
further,  to  Newcastle;  and  I  've  ridden  from  P.  to  Reading,  66  m.,  and  returned  by  tnua. 
Except  in  a  few  cases,  when  the  start  has  been  made  as  early  as  s  a.  m.  and  the  return  hoane  as 
late  as  8  p.  m.,  my  day's  rides  with  my  son  have  begun  after  breakfast  and  ended  in  season  lor 
supper.  We  We  never  been  caught  in  but  two  stonns,  but  in  one  of  these  we  had  to  ride  17  as. 
in  a  heavy  wind  and  rain, — as  we  were  too  late  for  any  Sunday  trains.  After  a  wann  baili, 
change  of  clothes  and  good  supper,  neither  of  us  felt  any  ill  effecU  from  the  exposure.  As  re- 
gards the  press,  I  've  printed  pieces  in  the  WhetltmoHy  Feb.,  '83 ;  Bi.  IVorid,  Mar.,  '8$  ;  /*. 
chank,  June,  '83  (description  of  ride  to  Reading),  and  two  in  the  Pkila.  CycUmg  Record^  1885.** 
Dr.  Geo.  F.  Fiske  (b.  Jan.  26,  i860)  has  been  described  on  p.  1 13  as  one  of  the  very  earliest 
of  the  long-distance  men ;  and  his  letter  to  me  from  GOttingen  (Feb.  39,  '84)  reads  (hoa: 
"  My  riding  record  is  now  10,200  m.,  though  this  does  not  cover  my  toul  mileage,  for  do  nwaa 
can  keep  count  of  all  his  radng-practice  and  little  spins.  It  was  in  the  Harts  mtns.,  last  Nov., 
that  I  reached  the  10,000  m.  limit.  I  have  driven  the  bi.  3420  m.  in  la  successive  nK»tb%  and  I 
last  summer  covered  1085  m.  in  30  successive  days.  This  was  in  effect  an  almost  cootioiaous 
trail,  though  I  broke  it  once  by  taking  steamer,  and  once  by  taking  train,  besides  cnwting  one 
bridge  on  the  cars.  I  've  taken  several  tours  of  from  200  to  500  m.  My  longest  stay  in  the 
saddle  was  42  ra.  The  other  day,  I  went  from  G.  to  Hanover,  75  m.,  against  a  rather  shaip 
wind,  without  having  to  walk  a  step,  5  a.  m.  to  3.20  p.  h.  My  riding  time  was  7^  h.,  for  I  was 
in  poor  practice,  and  went  to  sleep  2  h.  at  Eke,  besides  giving  1  h.  to  breakfast ;  otherwise  1 
could  easily  have  got  to  H.  at  i  o'clock.  I  found  a  f^w  steep  hills,  bat  the  roads  in  general  an 
fine  for  long  tours.  The  chief  obstacle  is  the  pavements  in  the  small  towns,  but,  at  wont,  these 
can  be  walked  through  in  10  min.  I  do  not  travel  much  with  the  wheelmen  here,  as  they  are 
inclined  to  patronize  the  highest-price  hotels  and  take  frequently  to  the  trains.  £^.  ^.,  a  tea 
days'  trip  with  them,  along  the  Rhine  to  Heidelberg  and  back,  cost  I30;  while  a  16  days'  toar, 
by  myself,  from  Ostend  to  G.,  cost  only  |a8,  though  I  visited  all  the  picture  galleries  and  other 
objects  of  interest."  His  reply  to  my  further  enquiries  (Halle,  May  25,  '85)  adds:  "  Record  is 
now  12,000  m.  I  first  mounted  the  bi.,  Oct.  20,  '78,  at  Boston,  and  took  my  first  all-day  ride 
Nov.  22,  in  that  region.     My  first  tour  was  in  '79  (Aug.  4  to  14,  I  think),  from  New  Hami, 


•     STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  523 

Unongh  Ponghkeepue  and  Albany,  to  Saratoga  and  back  to  P.,  300  m.,  withoot  any  resort  to 
trains  (see  p.  143X  F.  L.  Bigelow  was  my  companion  all  the  way ;  R.  T.  Low  (a  classmate  of 
miae  in  Amherst  '81)  joined  us  at  P.;  and  our  half-day's  ride  of  55  m.  thence  up  the  Hudson  (5 
A.  m:  to  IP.  M.)  ««  thought  quite  an  explpit  at  that  time.  I  am  now  just  on  the  eve  of  a  grand 
tour,  for  I  've  nearly  finished  my  studies  here  (eye  ^Mcialties),  and  hope  to  cover  at  least  5000 
m.  this  summer  and  see  several  countries.  When  I  return  home,  next  November,  I  expect  to 
begin  practice  in  Chicago,  though  my  birthplace  was  Madison,  Ct." 

EUioU  Mason  (b.  Feb.  ti,  1852),  manager  of  the  N.  Y.  office  of  the  Pope  Mfg.  0>.,  at  la 
Warren  st,  is  mentioned  by  the  IVhtelt  Jan.  aa,  '86,  as  the  only  member  of  the  Citizens  B.  C. 
who  has  yet  made  a  "  century  run  "  (96  m.,  Cobourg  to  Kingston,  Aug.  18,  '85 ;  see  p.  333), 
aiul  as  the  second  man  in  the  dub  in  respect  to  mileage  for  '85,— his  record  being  3035,  as  com- 
pared with  Philip  Fontaine's  3305,  T.  C.  Smith's  3805,  W.  H.  McCormack's  330S  and  W.  B. 
KTUg'sai69,— the  latter  representing  a  Facile.  From  notes  of  conversation  with  Mr.  E.,  I 
present  these  facu  about  his  earlier  wheeling:  Between  Sept.,  '79,  and  Dec,  '81,  he  rode 
13,000  m.,  as  measured  by  Pope  cydom.— his  average  being  a8|  m.  a  day.  During  nearly  30 
months  of  this  period,  he  was  a  school  teacher  at  Yonkers,  and,  except  Sundays,  he  rode  al- 
most daily,  spending  about  all  his  time  in  the  saddle  when  not  engaged  in  school  duties.  In  ihe 
spring  of  '81,  he  went  to  Boston,  to  enter  the  employ  of  the  Popes ;  removing  to  N.  Y.  a  year 
later,  to  open  their  ritUng-school  and  salesroom  on  34th  st.  He  wheeled  not  less  than  500  m.  in 
'8a, — nearly  all  of  it  in  the  dtyy^-the  longest  day's  record  being  66^  m.  In  '83  he  took  83  rides, 
amounting  to  1406}  ni.,  and  his  '84  record  was  133 1  m., — making  a  total  mileage  of  19,155.  His 
longest  stay  in  the  saddle  was  a  round  trip  of  a6i  m.  His  rule  of  "no  good  offer  refused  "  led 
him  to  sell  several  machines,  after  taking  only  a  few  rides  upon  them ;  but  most  of  hw  first  13,000 
m.  was  done  on  a  53  in.  Standard  Columbia,  and  he  now  rides  a  54  in.  Expert.  Centaur 
and  Club  50  in.  have  also  been  tried  by  him.  Three  backbones  have  been  broken,  dur- 
ing his  usage,  but  without  injury  to  himsdf.  Ritchie's  magnetic  cydom.  he  praises,  as  having 
been  absolutely  accurate  in  his  own  experience,  and  as  the  only  variety  which,  as  a  dealer, 
be  has  not  heard  any  complaint  of.  His  wife  is  a  rider  of  the  tricycle.  I  believe  the  same 
can  be  truly  recorded  as  to  the  wife  of  Will  R.  Pitman  (b.  April  13,  1849),  who,  in  a 
talk  had  with  me,  Nov.  18,  '84,  said  he  'd  done  about  1500  m.  of  tricycling,  that  year,  and,  if  I 
rightly  understood,  had  been  not  infrequently  accompanied  by  the  lady  in  question.  He  won 
the  American  100  m.  road-record,  11^  h.,  in  the  Boston  B.  C.  race,  Oct.  4,  '84 ;  but  all  his  1m> 
cycling  of  the  year  hardly  amounted  to  10  m.  In  '83,  he  did  a  good  deal  of  radn^  (Nov.  17, 
Ixion  road-race,  153  m.,  was  won  in  30  h.;  see  IVhetlfmutt  Mar.,  '84,  p.  457),  and  his  probable 
mileage  was  aooo.  As  eariy  as  Sept  4,  '69,  he  took  part  in  an  exhibition  race  of  bone-shakers, 
at  Bangor,  his  native  town ;  and  he  went  thence  in  Jan.,  '78,  to  Boston,  for  his  first  experience 
wich  the  modem  bicycle,  at  the  riding-school  of  the  Cunninghams.  His  first  road-ride,  to  Ha- 
veriiiU,  March  30,  created  great  exdtement ;  and  a  later  one,  from  Fitchburg  to  Boston,  was 
also  given  liberal  notice  in  the  papers.  During  the  time  that  he  was  employed  by  the  Popes 
(Apr.  to  Oct),  he  spent  almost  every  h.  of  leisure  in  the  saddle,— riding  re^larly  from  4  to  7 
A.  M.,  and  also  nights,  at  the  Chestnut  Hill  reservoir,  and  all-day  trips  on  Sundays, — so  that  he 
thinks  his  average  400  m.  a  month,  and  his  total  for  '78  fully  3000  m.,  or  much  greater  than  for 
any  year  since.  In  May,  '78,  he  took  a  drcuit  by  train  through  Providence,  New  Haven,  Hart- 
ford, Springfield,  and  Worcester, — giving  exhibitions  of  road-riding  in  the  streets  of  all  those 
dties,  in  order  to  interest  people  in  the  bicycle  as  a  practical  vehicle,  and  pave  the  way  for  the 
establishment  of  agencies  for  its  sale.  In  Jan.,  '79,  he  returned  to  ths  carpet  trade,  which  he 
has  since  followed,  and  his  mileage  of  that  year,  whose  Sundays  were  mostly  given  to  the  wheel, 
was  probably  1000.  In  '80,  it  was  perhaps  rather  less  than  that,  his  longest  trip  being  from 
155th  St.  to  Coney  Island  and  back, — though  he  took  part  in  the  League's  first  parade  at  New- 
port In  '81,  it  did  not  amount  to  500  m.;  and  in  '83,  which  included  some  riding  at  Washing- 
ton, Boston,  and  twice  at  Baltimore,  it  was  less  than  1500  m.  Combining  these  annual  ap- 
proximations, which  my  cross-questionings  extorted  from  the  memory  of  a  man  who  had  never 
kept  any  record,  shows  a  "  guess-work  toul  "  of  about  10,500  m.,  at  the  dose  of  '84.    The  bi- 


524  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

cycles  used  by  him  have  been  Duplex  Excelsior,  Columbia  (*8x-'82)  and  Hnmber  (*83) ;  and  die 
Premier  tricycle,  which  he  exhibited  in  Boston,  in  autumn  of  '79,  was  the  first  one  ever  ridden 
there.  He  has  been  for  some  years  captain  of  the  Ixion  B.  C;  owns  many  medals  woo  in 
the  earlier  races,  and  is  known  among  his  familiars  as  "the  veteran." 

Henry  £.  Ducker  (b.  June  27, 1848),  who  has  done  more  than  any  one  else  to  encourage  bicy- 
cle radng  in  America,  "  never  entered  a  race  or  competed  in  any  athletic  sporL  My  first  year's 
wheeling  (in  '80,  about  800  m.)  was  chiefly  for  pleasure  and  exercise ;  but  since  then  I  've  been 
too  busy  to  use  the  bicycle  except  as  a  time-saver  for  my  business.  The  5326  m.  which  I  Sc 
thus  wheeled  for  this  strictly  practical  purpose  C81  to  '85)  represent  a  saving  of  664  h.,  or  66 
working  days,  equivalent  in  cash  to  I400,  while  my  wheels  have  cost  less  than  \  that  suxn.  Tha 
'  business  mileage  *  of  mine,  arranged  by  years,  stands  thus:  808,  1x83,  1218,  1030,  and  1087; 
and  it  has  in  effect  added  an  average  of  12^  days  to  my  life  each  year,  without  regard  to  its  ia> 
direct  advantage,  in  preserving  my  general  health.  I  rode  in  the  annual  processions  of  tie 
League,  at  New  York,  Washington  and  Buffalo ;  and  the  longest  tour  I  ever  took  was  25  m.  fo 
Hartford  (Oct.  12,  '85),  which  I  accomplished  with  only  two  dismounts.  The  round  trip  of  18 
m.  to  Holyoke  and  back  I  have  taken  twice.  These  six  cases  comprise  the  whole  of  my  wheel- 
ing  outside  the  city,  and  the  sum  of  them  all  is  insignificant  in  comparison  with  my  *  bosbeii 
mileage.'  My  earliest  wheel  was  a  48  in.  Harvard,  which  I  rode  from  May  30,  '80,  to  the  dose 
of  '82  ;  I  had  a  50  in.  Sanspareil  for  the  next  two  years,  and  in  '85  have  ridden  a  50  in.  Victor 
and  a  nickeled  Expert,  both  of  which  I  still  retain.  I  used  the  Excelsior  cyclom.,  '8x  to  '83,  the 
Butcher,  in  '84,  and  the  Lakin  in  '85 ;  and,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  the  latter  is  the  best.  I 
organized  the  Springfield  B.  C,  May  31,  *8i,  and  have  been  its  president  ever  since.  My  rea- 
dence  in  this  city  dates  from  April  27,  '63  ;  the  previous  ten  years  having  been  spent  in  Brook- 
lyn, to  which  place  I  emigrated  from  England,  as  I  was  bom  in  London,  on  Fleet  sL  I  was 
married  Nov.  4,  186S,  and  have  nine  children.  My  wife  and  two  oldest  giris  are  riders  of  the 
tricycle."  An  excellent  portrait  of  Mr.  D.  may  be  found' among  the  lithographic  likenesses  of 
cycling  editors  in  the  London  "  Whefling  Annual  for  *86  "  (p.  16),  alongside  that  of  its  pub- 
lisher, Harry  Etherington.  His  editorial  work  upon  the  monthly  Springfield  Wke€lmm*s  Ga- 
aette,  which  was  begun  in  May,  '83,  as  a  means  for  proclaiming  the  annual  racing  tonmamcnt  of 
the  club,  is  all  done  outside  of  office  hours,  so  as  not  to  conflict  with  his  duties  as  superintendem 
of  the  Springfield  Printing  Co.  He  has  held  this  position  since  *8o ;  and  in  '85  was  chosen 
chief  consul  of  the  Massachusetts  Division  of  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen. 

Springfield,  the  capital  city  of  Illinois,  has  at  least  one  i>ersistent  wheelman,  L  J.  Kasel(b 
Apr.  2S,  1865),  a  clothing  dealer,  who  reports  to  me  thus:  "  I  began  in  '77,  on  a  bone-shaker 
(no  lbs.),  which  I  regularly  rode,  between  the  house  and  store,  besides  taking  two  trips  of  15 
m.  and  one  of  20  m.  So  I  probably  covered  500  to  600  m.  with  it,  before  Feb.,  '78,  when  I 
bought  a  St.  Nicholas  bi.,  not  much  better,  which  I  used  for  about  700  m.  Between  Mar., '79, 
and  July,  '80,  I  rode  some  1500  m.  on  a  46  in.  Columbia;  then  to  July,  '82,  about  2500  m.  on 
an  English  machine ;  then  to  end  of  '83,  2100  m.,  by  cyclom.,  on  a  52  in.  nickeled  Eacpert;  to 
end  of  *84,  2300  m.,  on  a  56  in.  Expert,  McDonnell  cyclom.;  to  July,  '85,  1500  m.,  by  Butcher 
cyclom.;  to  Dec,  1200  m.,  on  a  58  in.  Victor,  with  Church  cyclom.  This  shows  a  total  of  aboot 
12,400  m.  Longest  ride,  Chicago  to  Milwaukee  and  back,  180  m.,  in  26  h.;  second  best,S.  to 
Jolie't,  X07  m.,  in  3  days  of  about  8  h.  riding  each,  though  roads  were  in  poor  coiKlitioa.  Bodi 
these  trips  were  in  the  same  week,  and  that  was  my  longest  riding  week,  287  m.  It  was  the 
second  week  in  Sept.,  '83,  and  forms  a  part  of  my  best  month's  record,  850  m.  I  '1 
250  m.  in  Wis. ,  about  100  m.  in  Mo. ,  and  all  the  rest  within  a  radius  of  30  or  40  m.  from 
We  dare  not  venture  out  far  on  the  roads  of  Central  Illinois,  except  from  June  to  Sept.,  for  tbe 
black  soil  is  left  in  bad  condition  for  a  week  or  more  after  every  rain.  Our  park  has  35  m.  of 
beautiful  pavement,  however ;  and  there  is  some  talk  of  applying  concrete  to  all  the  main  roads 
of  Sangamon  co., — which  would  make  cycling  possible,  the  year  round,  through  a  very  larje 
region.  In  the  n.  and  s.  sections  of  111.,  the  roads  are  mostly  gravel,  instead  of  this  black  soil 
Though  our  dty  ordinance  against  cycling  has  never  been  repealed,  it  is  entirely  a  dead  letter." 

Another  member  of  the  old  guard,  Brandon  Lewis  (b.  May  2,  1838),  sends  me  an  even  shorter 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  525 

story.  '*  I  am  a  dealer  in  shoes,  at  Lafayette,  Ind.,  and  though  I  first  mounted  the  bL  in  May, 
'76,  and  have  been  a  rider  ever  since,  I  never  kept  a  record  of  my  wheeling  experiences.  I  *ve 
mainly  used  the  wheel  between  home  and  business,  and  have  taken  no  tours, — my  longest  day's 
ride  being  26  m."  With  this  may  be  compared  the  report  sent  Sept.  2,  '85,  by  Arthur  Young 
(b.  Nov.  30,  1861),  of  whom  Cola  Stone  wrote  to  me,  a  few  months  before,  that  "  what  he 
does  n*t  know  about  the  roads  around  St.  Louis  is  n't  worth  knowing  ":  "  I  bc^an  to  ride  Feb. 
24,  'So,  on  a  46  in.  Columbia ;  changed  in  *32  to  a  50  in.;  in  '83,  used  a  54  in.  Expert ;  in  '84,  a 
50  in.  Expert,  4S  in.  Sanspareil  and  48  in.  Expert ;  in  '85,  a  48  in.  Victor,  and  am  now  riding  a 
Rudge  tandem  tri.  I  never  kept  a  log,  or  used  a  cyclom.,  but  I  average  xSoo  m.  a  year.  Out- 
side this  State,  1 've  ridden  in  Kan.,  111.,  Me.,  Mass.,  and  N.  H.,— including  trips  up  Corey 
Hill  and  down  Mt.  Washington.  The  chief  roads  from  St.  Louis,  through  St.  L.  and  Jeff. 
counties,  are  of  limestone  and  gravel  combined ;  very  good  after  a  rain  and  mighty  mean  when 
dusty.  I  name  their  mileage  thus:  Telegraph,  16 ;  Natural  Bridge,  it\ ;  St.  Charies  Rock, 
18;  Bellefontaine,  19;  01ivest.,aS;  Manchester,  32} ;  Gravois,  42;  Lemay  Ferry,  50.  The 
grades  of  the  latter  are  so  steep  that  none  but  natives  attempt  to  ride  it,  and  the  Gravois  road 
is  also  a  bad  one  for  the  tenderfoot." 

The  reference  to  Mt.  W.  suggests  the  insertion  here  of  my  report  from  E.  H.  Corson  (b. 
Oct.  a6,  1848),  whom  I  have  alluded  to  as  "  the  Star  man,"  on  pp.  257,  269,  271,  in  describing 
my  '83  riding  with  him  in  Maine ;  and  who  says,  Jan.  19,  '86:  "  I  learned  to  ride  in  June,  '82  ; 
and,  on  Sept.  18,  after  attending  the  meeting  which  oi^nized  the  N.  H.  Div.  of  the  League, 
wheeled  home  23  m.,  this  being  my  first  straightaway  trial  on  the  road.  Though  I  'vc  kept  no 
complete  record  of  it,  I  've  ridden  a  great.  d;al,  especially  in  *83.  It  was  on  Aug.  16  of  that 
year  that  I  rode  down  Mt.  Washington, — ^a  thing  that  was  never  done  before,  and  has  never 
been  done  sines  successfully.  I  've  written  a  full  account  of  this  for  the  new  ed.  of  the  *  Star 
Rider's  Manual,'  which  I  hope  to  issue  in  March.  I  conceived  the  idea  of  writing  the 
'  Manual '  while  wheeling  home  from  the  Springfield  tournament  of  '83.  The  first  ed.  was 
exhausted  two  months  ago,  and  the  orders  for  the  new  book  show  it  is  likely  to  have  an  even 
lax)(er  sale."  The  price  of  it  is  50  c,  the  same  as  the  annual  subscription  to  the  Star  Advo- 
caU,  a  monthly  paper  which  Mr.  C.  has  published  at  East  Rochester,  N.  H.,  since  Mar., 
'85.  The  editor  of  the  oldest  of  American  cycling  journals,  Abbot  Bassett  (b.  March  10, 
1845),  sends  me  the  following,  Jan.  19,  '86:  "  I  'm  not  much  of  a  veteran,  for  it  was  in  '81 
that  I  learned  to  ride  a  bicycle  of  John  S.  Prince.  I  did  n't  get  beyond  the  lesspn  period, 
for  my  attention  was  diverted  from  the  bi.  to  the  tri.  by  the  presence  of  a  three-wheeler  in 
the  place  where  I  did  my  riding.  I  saw  at  once  that  the  tri.  was  the  wheel  for  me,  and  I 
began  to  study  it  and  get  my  friends  interested  in  it.  I  entered  into  a  long  correspondence 
with  Sturmey  and  Wilson,  anent  tricycles,  and  the  result  was  that  a  number  of  us  brought  over 
English  machines  in  '82.  I  never  tried  a  bi.  on  the  road.  I  have  done  no  little  missionary 
work  for  the  three-wheeler,  and  to-day  Boston  has  a  very  large  number  of  tricyclers.  A  man 
who  rides  a  tri.  only  has  just  been  elected  captain  of  the  Boston  B.  C,  and,  when  some  one 
ui^ged  that  this  was  not  wise,  a  look  around  showed  that  every  prominent  member  of  the  club 
was  a  tricycler.  As  to  my  record,— it  has  been  impossible  for  me  to  keep  one,  for  I  ride  all 
sorts  of  machines  and  over  all  distances.  It  is  important  for  me,  in  a  business  way,  to  know 
all  about  machines,  and  so  I  ride  the  different  ones  as  they  come  out.  Do  Stoddard,  Lov- 
ering  Sl  Co.  get  out  a  new  wheel,  I  take  it  and  ride  it  a  few  weeks,  and  then  take  some  other 
dealer's.  In  this  way,  I  make  myself  an  authority  on  machines,  and  can  answer  those  who 
naturally  call  on  me  for  advice  about  buying  wheels.  I  never  advise  any  particular  make, 
though,  but  give  the  good  points  of  6ach  one.  So  you  ^nll  sec  that  as  there  is  no  good  cy- 
dom.  that  will  fit  every  wheel,  I  can't  keep  a  record.  I  have  a  cyclom.  on  my  own  wheel 
but  I  didn't  ride  that  1000  m.  in  '85.  I  've  kept  no  kind  of  memorandum  of  my  riding,,  and  I 
cannot  form  the  slightest  idea  what  my  mileage  is;  therefore  I  think  you  had  better  not  try  to 
touch  it  I  became  business  manager  of  the  Bi.  IVorldxn  Aug.,  '81 ;  was  joint  editor  in  '83 
and  full  editor  in  '84;  was  on  the  editorial  staff  of  the  Manufaciurtr^ s  Gazette,  Boston,  in  the 
earlier  months  of  '81,  and  for  la  years  before  that  was  editor  of  the  Chehia  NewsV     His  prede- 


526  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ceasor  and  associate  in  the  editorship  of  the  BL  Warid^  J.  S.  Dean  (now  a  lawyer  al  2S 
State  St.),  tells  me  a  similarly  indefinite  story:  "  I  cannot  give  cydom.  records,  as  I  nerer 
kept  any,  except  in  an  intermittent  sort  of  way.  I  think  I  began  riding  in  Dec,  '77  (peihaps 
Jan.,  '78),  and  I  've  ridden,  I  'm  sure,  more  than  10,000  m. — of  which  at  least  1800  m.  was  is 
England.  During  the  last  a  or  3  years  I  *ve  confined  my  riding  almost  entirely  to  the  tTkycIe, 
and  in  '85  the  tricycle  and  tandem  were  my  only  mounts,  except  a  little  safety  cycling.  As  for 
your  request  about  my  nomx  de  plume^  I  *ve  had  so  many  that  1  cannot  name  them.  '  London 
W.'  was  my  first  and  principal  one.  I  also  started  the  *  By  the  Way.* "  Shorter  still  b  the 
personal  statement  which  I  *ve  been  able  to  extract  from  the  publisher  of  the  Pkiia.  Cyc.  Rec- 
ord^ H.  B.  Hart,  who  sailed  with  me  to  Newport,  for  the  League  meet  of  '80  :  "Althoogh 
one  of  the  pioneer  riders,  I  have  never  done  any  extended  touring ;  have  been  kept  too  dose 
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— i?«ir  Sir :— The  advertisement  of  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.  {Omtimg, 
Sept.,  '85)  contains  a  letter  dated  at  Cleveland,  June  25,  '85,  and  signed  by  your  name, 
which  reads  as  follows  :  '  TMt  subscriber  is  ttdjusierjor  the  Wkiit  Sewing  Machine  Co.^  snd 
in  the  discharge  qf  his  duties  usesytmr  54  in.  Expert  Cdumbia.  I  have  rttn  the  satne  seme- 
thing  ever  1 1,000  m.  ,  m  14  tnonths^  over  ail  kinds  0/  roadSf  and  am  glad  to  say  not  one  cent 
have  I  spenl for  rt^irs^  and  my  machine  is  in  first-clou  condition.^  As  this  statement  has 
been  widely  copied,  and  as  no  one  else  in  America  lias  professed  to  ride  a  bicyde  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  induded  ?  In  what  States  and  regions  did  you  traverse  all  kinds  of 
roads?  By  what  cyclometer  were  your  ix,ooo  m.  measured,  and  what  was  your  monthly  milc^ 
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  endose  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  coo- 
vindng  them  of  the  authentidty  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  Cyclings  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  undo- 
stand  he  has  never  used  a  cydom. ,  and  his  statement  is  based  on  an  estimate  as  to  the  total  dis- 
tance  he  traveled.  While  this  '11,000  m.  in  14  roos.*  (equal  to  786  m.  a  month,  or  36  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  5705  m.  in  7  years,  I  give  it  to  yoa 
for  what  it  may  be  worth.  I  first  mounted  a  wheel  in  Sept.,  *79>  >"d  my  annual  mileage  figures 
are  these  :  412,  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  i,  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  4840.  This  was  all  done  within  50  m.  of  6.,  in  riding  from  my  residence  in  the  suburbs  to  mv 
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  to.  Rudge  light  roadster,  with  a  Butcher  cydom.  This  J  consider 
the  best,  as  it  is  the  most  legible  ;  though  the  Lakin  cydom.  seems  to  be  giving  great  satisfaction 
in  thb  neighborhood.  The  tricycles  I  have  ridden  were  the  Rudge,  Victor,  Royal  MaU,  Crip- 
per  and  Traveller,  and,  of  late,  the  first  Crescent  e\'er  ridden  either  here  or  in  England.  Of  this 
machine  you  will  hear  considerable  next  season.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  add  a  few  more  miles  to  this 
record  before  Jan.  i.  Next  season  I  shall  probably  ride  the  tri.  more  than  the  bi.,  as  I  think 
that  for  well-kept  roads  it  is  the  more  practical  machine.  In  the  Boston  B.  C,  there  are  now 
three  tri.s  to  every  bi.;  and  on  a  recent  run,  I  was  the  only  bicycler  among  14  tricyders.** 


STATISTICS.  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  527 

The  latest  record  that  comes  to  me  for  infeition  in  this  chapter  is  in  the  authentic  fonn  of 
an  a£Bdavit  before  John  McCann,  notary  public  at  Louisville,  subscribed  and  sworn  to  Jan.  26, 
'86,  by  J.  D.  Macaulay  (b.  Jan.  14,  i860,  at  New  Orleans),  to  the  effect  that  his  bicycle  mileage 
of  *85  amounted  to  6573,  distributed  through  the  la  successive  months  as  follows:  325,  383,  446, 
563,  379,  305,  628, 663, 742, 1093,  526,  520.  I  append  his  reply  to  my  enquiries:  "  I  am  a  mem- 
ber of  the  firm  of  Piatt,  Macaulay  &  Co.,  wholesale  dealers  in  whiskies,  and  manufacturers  of 
spioea.  Learned  to  ride  at  Liverpool,  Eng.,  in  '72  ;  but  "my  wheel  was  so  heavy  as  to  disgust 
me  with  the  sport,  and  (except  for  a  few  mos.  in  '80)  I  did  no  more  at  it  till  '84,  when  I  bought 
an  Elxpert,  and  rode  1003  m.  between  Sept.  15  and  Dec  31.  I  then  determined  to  ride  each  day 
in  '85,  with  the  result  given.  My  50  in.  Expert,  No.  5012,  stood  the  strain  far  better  than  I 
could  expect,  costing  not  a  cent  for  repairs, — though  I  paid  ^  for  an  extra-long  handle-bar,  for 
eaae  in  hill-dimbing.  I  carried  two  McDonnell  cyclometers ;  but  I  had  none  at  all  on  the  Singer, 
which  I  used  61  days  in  May  and  June,  training  for  some  races.  This  must  have  amounted  to 
at  least  350  m.,  in  addition  to  what  I  recorded  on  my  Expert  during  those  months,  for  I  never 
trained  less  than  3  m.  a  day  on  the  track,  or  in  the  Exposition  building.  My  longest  stays  in  the 
aaddle,  straightaway,  were  from  L.  to  Bardstown,  46  m.  in  4  h.  9  min.,  and  from  L.  to  Shelby- 
TiUe,  33  m.  in  2  h.  24  min.  In  the  Exposition  building,  I  once  rode  without  stop  62}  m.  in  5  h. 
My  longest  day's  ride  was  from  L.  to  Lexington,  94  m.  in  11  h.  23  min.,  which  included  a  de- 
tour of  8  m.  My  longest  week's  ride  was  423  m.,  Oct.  4  to  10,  followed  by  398  m.,  Oct.  11  to  17, 
making  821  m.  for  the  fortnight.  This  was  during  my  vacation  in  the  Blue  Grass  Region.  It  is 
my  intention  to  make  at  least  10,000  m.  in  '86,  and  I  see  no  reason  why  I  cannot  go  beyond  that ; 
for  nay  January  mileage  thus  far  averages  high  enough,  considering  the  weather,  to  carry  me  well 
above  that  figure."    Mr.  M.  has  just  been  chosen  president  of  the  Louisville  Wheel  Club. 

The  reasonableness  of  his  intention  thus  expressed  is  shown  by  the  actual  record  of  5000  ra. 
made  between  May  21  and  Nov.  14,  '85,  by  Charles  M.  Goodnow  (b.  Apr.  28,  1867),  a  clerk  in 
the  Hampden  national  bank  at  Westfield,  Mass.,  and  captain  of  the  wheelmen  there.  He  thus 
reports  to  me,  Jan.  9 :  *'  I  learned  to  ride  May  i,  '83,  but  had  no  cyclom.  and  took  no  note  of 
ndleage  before  this  season.  The  only  month's  record  I  kept  in  '85  was  that  ending  June  21 
(1350  m.),  and  during  one  week  of  this,  ending  June  15, 1  made  404  m.  Longest  day's  ride,  Oct. 
1 1,  loi  ro.  in  8]  h.  actual  riding.  Longest  straightaway  tour,  to  Holyoke,  about  17  m.  I  've  only 
had  a  half-day's  vacation,  this  year,  and  all  my  wheeling  has  been  done  before  and  after  bank- 
hours.  I  added  56  m.  to  the  5000  before  the  year  closed.  My  machine  is  a  54  in.  Royal  Mail, 
and  is  in  fine  condition."  The  Spriugfield  Republican  said,  Jan.  6  :  "All  the  summer  and  fall 
CkMdnow  was  up  at  sunrise,  and  rode  even  into  the  night  when  moonlight  permitted.  For  3 
weeks  in  the  6  mos.  he  did  no  riding,  owing  to  the  breaking  of  his  machine."  All  this  was  in 
competition  for  the  "  gold-plated  Standard  cyclometer  valued  at  $25,"  which  J.  A.  Lakin  &  Co., 
of  W.,  offered,  at  the  beginning  of  the  season,  as  a  prize  to  whoever  would  make  the  lai^gesi 
record  on  a  wheel  carrying  their  cyclom.  (The  price  of  this,  nickel  plated,  is  $10;  and  its  dial, 
marking  250  m.,  is  designed  to  be  read  from  the  saddle,  though  riders  have  told  me  that  the  numer- 
als are  too  small  to  be  easily  distinguished.)  Competitors  were  required  "  to  make  affidavit  as  to 
their  records,  signed  by  two  witnesses  knowing  to  the  facts,"  and  to  band  in  their  reports  by 
Jan.  15.  Only  6  days  before  that,  Mr.  L.  wrote  to  me  thus :  "  We  have  not  yet  received  many 
kmpdisUnce  records.  The  second  in  size  is  that  of  Harry  A.  Lakin  (b.  Jan.  la,  1867),  who  be- 
gan riding  in  '84,  and  whose  '85  mileage,  on  a  54  in.  Victor,  is  3991.  His  longest  day's  ride,  4 
A.  M.  to  8  p.  M.,  was  1x6  m.  H.  M.  Farr  (b.  May  28,  1841),  of  Holyoke,  has  done  2800  m.,  on 
a  38  in.  Rudge  Safety;  C.  Irving,  secretary  of  the  Dorchester  B.  C,  2333!  m.,  between  Aug. 
and  Dec;  Gilbert  J.  Loomis  (ae.  about  14),  of  W.,  1276  m.,  from  Sept.  1  to  Dec  24,  on  a  52  in. 
Victor;  J.  W.  Holland,  of  W.,  1354  m.,  on  a  50  in.  Expert;  Fred  F.  Shepard,  of  W.,  1300  m." 
The  Rt^udHcan  of  Feb.  4  announced  the  a^-ard  of  the  prize  to  Mr.  G.,  and  gave  the  mileage 
of  the  II  competitors,  all  but  3  of  whom  are  residents  of  Westfield.  The  records  of  the  4  not 
named  to  me  in  Mr.  L.'s  letter  are  :  2501  m.  on  a  52  in.  Victor,  by  Robert  Gowdy ;  2476  m,  on  a 
54  in.  Expert,  by  R.  L.  Scott ;  1402  m.  on  a  54  in.  Expert,  by  F.  H.  Scott ;  and  1521  m.  on  a  49 
in.  Columbia  light  roadster,  by  Joshua  Reynolds,  of  Stockport,  N.  Y.    The  same  prize  is  to  be 


528  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

offered  again  in  *86  for  the  best  certified  score  made  by  the  user  of  this  instnuneot ;  and  a  sec- 
ond gold-plated  cyclom.  to  the  dub  whose  lo  riders  make  the  highest  combined  score  in  usxx^  a. 

Mr.  R.  is  one  of  my  early  subscribers,  and 'from  his  testimonial  about  the  Lakin  cydom.,  9A- 
dressed  to  the  maker  thereof  (Jan.  6,  '86;,  I  gladly  copy  the  following :  "  I  bc^an  riding  in  May, 
'80,  and  have  kept  a  careful  daily  account.  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  12  cydometers 
on  them, — being  thus  able  to  judge  the  relative  merits  of  the  prominent  makes.  I  Vc  tested  tbea 
also  by  special  machinery  at  our  Empire  Loom  Works.  Furthermore,  my  brother  made  a  gradu- 
ated wheel  of  iron,  10  ft.  in  drcumfercnce,  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  resak,  I 
have  found  your  cyclom.  the  m<»t  satisfactory  as  to  accuracy,  reliability,  construction,  craven- 
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,  1  do  not 
like  the  modes  of  attachment  or  actuation,  nor  the  f/c^w  change  of  the  dial  figures.  The  K^r^'^n*^ 
is  a  well-made  and  accurate  cyclom.,  but  very  inconvenient  to  read.  The  McDonnells  were 
difficult  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  used  the  Lakin  cydom.  longer  than  any  other 
(July  22  to  Dec.  31,  '85),  1521  m.  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  thnxfgh 
the  bearing,  so  that,  on  occasion,  the  eye.  may  be  held  fast  against  the  sleeve,  and  its  regjstiy 
stopped.  It  would  have  been  a  great  convenience  to  me,  when  trundling  through  the  mud,  to 
have  been  able  to  hold  the  dial  fast,  by  the  simple  turn  of  a  thumb-screw ;  for  then  I  ooold  have 
pushed  the  bi.  backwards,  with  the  small  wheel  in  the  air,  and  saved  mud-dogging  in  b^ 
forks, — the  brake  acting  as  scraper.  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  d.iys.  I  never  have  raced.  My  condensed  and  tabulated 
records  occupy  18  pp.  in  a  diary,  and  there  are  5  pp.  additional  of  tabulated  distances  I  haw 
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-Despatch  wheeb  4679  ro.  in  27  weeks,  and  knocks  all 
similar  records  into  secondary  place,"  is  the  somewhat  sensational  headline  with  which  the 
American  IVheelman  (Jan.  *86)  introduces  an  interesting  two-column  account  of  the  mileage 
made  on  a  54  in.  Expert,  between  Apr.  23  and  Dec.  1,  '85,  by  Wm.  £.  Hicks,  a  reporter  of  local 
news  for  the  daily  journal  in  question,  whose  weight  increaised  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  thai 
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  cyding,  was  witnessed  by  him.  But,  with 
the  advent  of  the  spring  of  *85,  he  soon  found,  after  the  pedal  and  A-ault  mounts  had  been  learned, 
that  the  bicycle  was  perfectly  practicable  for  use  in  the  short  rides  of  a  half  a  dozen  blodcs  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  laborious  one  of 
walking.  Out  of  the  221  days,  there  were  only  30  when  he  failed  to  ride;  and  the  ai  days  when 
rain  caused  this  failure  were  distributed  thus:  May,  4;  Aug.,  2;  Sept.,  5  ;  Oct.,  5;  Nov.,  5. 
His  only  long  trip  was  90  m.  to  Arcadia,  though  rides  of  40  m.,  to  Manchester  and  Baldwin,  were 
sometimes  made  several  times  a  week.  The  estimate  of  4679  ">•  »  gained  from  multiplyiog  »9' 
riding  days  by  24)  m.,  since  this  was  the  average  distance,  as  established  by  cydom.,  as  nearly  as 
could  be  ascertained.     It  should  be  remembered  that  though  fully  }  of  this  distance  was  traversed 


STATISTICS  FROM  THE  VETERANS.  529 

en  Ae  gianhe  streets,  more  or  less  wet  and  treacherous  and  without  bell  or  lamp  on  the  btcyde, 
the  orilisions  with  pedestrians  were  but  three,  and  they  occurred  in  daylight,  while  the  collisions 
with  Tchides  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  been 
oroken.  Such  a  recmd  on^t  to  instruct  those  few  misguided  wheelmen  who  second  the  efforts 
o£  agaorant  law-makers  ia  regard  to  '  compulsory  use  of  bells  and  lamps.'  It  seeoss  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  bicycle 
was  made  only  for  pleasure-riding  in  the  country  or  on  smooth  boulevards.  The  streets  of  St. 
Louis  are  paved  with  square  granite  blocks,  but,  although  the  system  has  been  welt  extended 
thxoiigk  Ihe  commercial  paru  of  the  dty,  it  would  be  dallying  with  the  truth  to  say  that  the  sur> 
faMS  is  not  rough.  A  lew  other  people  in  the  world  may  hare  ridden  further  in  7  mos. '  time,  but 
it  is  doubtful  if  they  have  done  as  much  as  Mr.  Hicks  in  threading  crowded  streets,  turning 
sharp  corners,  crossing  sUppery  car-tracks,  and  getting  out  of  the  entanglements  which  nearly 
every  day  of  dty  riding  makes  startlingly  new  and  numerous.'*  Two  letters  of  mine,  asking 
about  cydom.  and  other  details,  ha^e  brought  no  answer. 

The  distance  of  146  m.  without  dismount  was  made  in  14  h.  17  min.,  at  Chicago,  beginning 
at  10  r.  M.  Aug.  21,  '85,  by  John  W.  Bell  (b.  Sept.  30,  1866),  who  rode  ja  m.  in  the  first  a  h., 
and  whose  additional  mileage  for  the  remaining  is  was  as  follows:  1,  14;  2,  14;  3,  10;  4,  10; 
5,  10 ;  6,  8;  7,  7 ;  8,  6 ;  9,  9;  10,  8 ;  11,  7 ;  la  (17  min.X  11.  I  copy  these  figures  from  his  let- 
ter to  me  of  Jan.  8,  '86,  which  says:  "  I  started  from  Rosalie  Villa,  the  club  headquarters,  and 
was  accompanied  all  the  while  by  one  or  more  members  of  the  Owl  B.  C.  We  rode  s.  to  the 
Boulevaid,  w.  on  this  to  the  park,  n.  on  Drexet  BouL  to  39th  St.,  and  returned  by  same  route  to 
starting  point.  The  course  was  shown  as  8  m.  by  several  cydoms.  (mine  being  a  Butcher,  whidi 
I  consider  absolutely  correct),  and  I  went  over  it,  otpaxk  and  again,  with  the  intention  of  doing 
at  least  100  m.  withont  dismount.  Of  the  4  stops  which  I  made  for  refreshment,  the  longest 
lasted  a  minute,  when  I  leaned  agunst  a  lamp-poet.  My  wheel  was  a  52  in.  Columbia  light- 
roadster,  and  my  mileage  was  dkecked  every  hour.  We  were  accompanied  at  the  start  by  Ralph 
Friburg,  who  intended  to  lower  the  24  h.  professional  record,  but  withdrew  at  the  end  of  50  ra.,. 
becauise  of  cramps  in  the  stomach.  1  learned  to  ride  in  '77,  a  32  in.  Otto ;  had  a  44  in.  Premier 
in  '79*  3^Bd  a  48  in.  Standard  Columbia  for  a  short  dme  in  '81 ;  did  no  more  riding  till  the  spring: 
oC  '8s,  when  I  got  a  5s  in.  Expert,  and  covered  over  2000  m.  before  the  year  ended.  Longest, 
straightaway  tour,  Chicago  to  Bloomington,  126  m.;  k>ngest  straightaway  stay  in  saddle,  12  dl;. 
longest  stay  previous  to  the  146  m.  ride,  48  ra."  Other  notable  road-riding  in  that  dty  was  pro- 
moted in  '83  (by  a  dub  called  the  Hermes,  which  was  among  those  lately  absoibed  into  the  Chi- 
cago B.  C.)  by  the  offer  of  a  gold  medal  for  the  largest  mileage  made  in  }  year,  and  this  was  woni 
by  £dward  F.  Sharp,  with  a  record  of  2725;  H.  D.  Higinbotham  being  second,  with  2432.. 
"  The  race  began  Sept.  29,  with  nearly  every  member  of  the  club  competing '^(^Am/,  Feb.  z8,. 
'84>.  "  but  most  of  them  dropped  out  before  the  first  month  ended,  and  the  record  on  Oct.  28* 
stood:  H.  M.  Higinbotham,  480;  H.  D.  Higinbotham,  460;  B.  F.  Sharp,  450;  M.  D.  Hull,. 
3oOk  The  second  month's  mileage  of  the  same  men,  with  their  totals,  Nov.  28,  stood  thus:  620. 
(iioo);  950(1410);  900(1350);  780  (1080).  During  the  month  ending  Dec  28,  Sharp  made. 
1375,  to  H.  D.  Higinbotham's  loas,  and  there  were  no  other  competitors." 

Frank  P.  Symonds,  president  of  the  b.  c.  at  Salem,  Mass.,  thus  reports  to  me,  Dec  24,  '85: 
"  RegardtDg  cyclometers,  I  have  had  one  good  McDonnell  out  of  three  It  was  accurate ;  the 
others  were  not.  My  Butcher  was  accurate  but  faulty.  First,  I  lost  my  weight.  Next,,  the 
figored  part  of  the  cydom.  broke  off.  Third,  the  small  screws  came  out  and  I  lost  the  lewer 
part  from  the  upper.  This  was  Oct.  1,  when  the  registry  for  168  days  in  '85  stood  at  2295  mi. 
Keeping  accomit  of  trips  after  that,  I  reckon  my  whole  year's  mileage  to  exceed  3000^  I  rode 
a  52  ia.  Expert  McDonnell  cydom.  accredited  me  with  2845  m.  in  '84 ;  and  I  kept  no  reconf 
dnring  the  three  prerious  seasons.  Most  of  my  riding  has  been  about  business."  John  V. 
Stephenson  (b.  May  15,  1852),  a  pharmadst  at  Greensburg,  Pa.,  since  June,  '80,  thus  reports, 
Jan.  6»  *86:  "I  learned  to  ride  the  oU  boDe*ehaker,  and  I  first  mounted  the  medem  bL  at 
31 


530         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

PittsbttTB  in  '79,  or  perhaps  '7S.  Bought  ny  first  wheel»  a  $6  in.  Expert,  io  J«dy»  ^,  and  eaU 
it  in  '83  to  buy  a  5S  in.  I  rode  about  1000  m.  in  '8a,  1500  m.  in  '83»  3315!  in  '84  and  9o8a|  in 
'85.  Longest  straightaway  trail,  G.  to  Maudi  Chunk,  294  m.  in  4  days;  expenses,  S5.11. 
Longest  continuous  trail,  G.  to  Qearfield,  Altoona,  Bedford,  Johnstown  and  home,  339  m.,  in 
5I  days  (*84) ;  expenses,  $10. 15."  Charies  Langley  (b.  May  31, 1856),  a  book-keeper  at  Taroato, 
'*  learned  to  ride  Nov.,  'Sa.  (^  Dec.  ss,  same  year,  had  my  first  *  loi^; '  ride  of  10  m.,  taking 
nearly  3  h.  to  aocoropliah  the  Usk.  In  spring  of  '83  went  at  riding  in  earnest,  and  before  dose 
of  season  had  taken  one  straightaway  tour,  unaooompanied,  of  say  390  m.,  as  wdl  as  aevcnl 
aU-day  trips,  the  total  for  season  being  not  less  thsn  1000  m.  In  '84,  I  was  as  enthusiastic  as 
ever  and  covered  fully  1500  m.  including  another  tour  of  neatly  300  m.  In  "Ss,  still  moiw  fasci* 
nated,  and  detennined  to  edipse  previous  season ;  oonpleted  1800  ra.  indudii^  a  tour  of  5*5  m., 
whereof  300  was  ridden  in  5  days  agamst  a  heavy  September  wind.  On  all  touis  I  carried  «y- 
dom.,  wbid)  proved  as  true  as  estpeded,  the  variation  between  it  and  mileage  as  lepwted  alsng 
the  road  not  being  of  any  account  in  a  day's  ride.  In  May,  '84,  I  rode  ay  m.  stiaigfaiaway 
without  dismount,  from  Port  Hope  to  within  a  couple  of  miles  of  Brighton.  Have  not  specially 
undertaken  any  long  all-day  rides, — my  best  beiqg  70  m.,  though  I  've  done  that  several  tiaics. 
My  wheel  is  a  54  in.*'  (see  p.  316).  L.  B.  Graves  (b.  Aug.  8,  1853),  C  T.  C  comd  at  Mioae- 
apolis,  began  riding  in  May,  '8a,  and  itiughly  estimates  his  total  mileage  at  7500^  divided  tins  by 
jrears  :  isoo,  2000,  3500,  and  1500,  the  last  only  being  in  Minnesota.  His  machines  have  been 
54  in.  Star  (2),  $>  in.  Sanspareil,  54  in.  Rocker  and  54  in.  Yale  (see  pp.  114,  irg,  334)1 

F.  A.  Elwell  (b.  Nov.  7, 1858),  manager  of  Down  East  and  Bermuda  tours  (see  pp.  357, 353), 
began  to  ride  in  the  spring  of  '81,  and  names  9000  as  probable  mileage.  A.  B.  Barkmaa  (h. 
Dee.  39,  i8s9)»  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  snore 
than  once.  I  'm  certain  I  've  explored  more  than  1000  m.  of  separate  roadway,  and  can  com- 
pote 350  m.  of  it  on  Long  Island  alone.  I  *ve  often  made  the  ran  from  the  dub  rooow,  jM 
Livingston  St.,  to  the  cathedra)  at  Garden  City,  in  3}  h.,  and  have  ridden  to  Syooset  in  3  h.  25  ana. 
From  9  to  10  m.  per  h.  is  my  touring  gait,  on  a  good  road."  Winslow  T.  Williams  (b.  Febb  1, 
1863),  League  representative  at  Yantic,  Ct.,  has  ridden  a  56  in.  ni^ded  Expert,  from  '80  to  '86» 
$060  m.,  as  measured  by  McDonnell  and  Butcher  udometers.  E.  P.  Bumham,  ol  Nevrtoa, 
well  known  as  a  radng  man,  reported  to  the  BL  ^^ntf  (Dec  36,  '84)  a  mileage  of  3095  ia  "83 
and  3000  in  '84,  whereof  940  belonged  to  last  two  months,  and  1140  to  the  tric>Tle.  My  appeal 
t9  him  for  '85  record  has  gone  unanswered,  as  also  my  letter  of  enquiry  to  Percy  IMtis^m,  of 
Louisville,  who  was  said  to  have  a  cydom.  record-ef  4000  m.  for  the  last  10  moa.  of  '84. 

An  Odober  paragraph,  in  regard  to  Joseph  Pennell  and  Elisabeth  Robins  Penndl,  his  wife, 
authors  of  "A  Tricyding  Pilgriimge  to  Canterbury,"  and  formeriy  residents  of  PhibdelplaB, 
said  they  *'  latdy  returned  to  London  from  a  journey  of  aooo  m.  on  their  Hnmber  taadea, 
through  France  and  Switseriand  to  North  Italy  and  back."  Quite  as  aignilicant  also  is  the  tri- 
cycling score  of  5957  m.  made  in  '85  by  a  trio  of  less-adventurous  American  ladies^  whose 
husbands  wheeled  9389  m.  in  the  same  interval,  so  that  the  total  year's  mileage  of  these  six 
"Orange  Wanderers"  reached  the  rather  imposing  figure  of  rs,a4^  The  whecKag  hiocrapby 
ol  the  roost  widely-known  member  of  this  chib,  L.  H.  Johnson  (b.  1859),  lu»  been  givea  oa 
p.  508,  which  shows  that  in  '85  he  made  334$  m.  on  the  bi.  and  1930  m.  00  the  three-wbecler. 
Mrs.  J.  rode  1776 m.  on  the  tandem  and  3 torn,  on  the  single  In.  (total,  1986m.),  and  I  faefievc 
this  comprised  considerable  touring  with  her  husband  in  England  and  Wales.  H.  C  Douglas  lode 
3454  m.,  and  Mrs.  D.  3376  m.,  all  on  a  tandem  tri.,— and  this  is  probably  the  largest  year's  nAe^fe 
record  yet  ntade  in  America  by  a  lady,  or  by  man  and  wife  together.  L.  H.  Porter's  bicydi^g 
was  r3i3  m.  and  tricyding  1348  m.  (total,  3660  m.);  while  Mrs.  P.  rode  1355  m.  on  the  iBHilim 
and  439  m.  on  the  single  tri.,  making  a  total  of  1694  m.,  though  thb  was  her  first  seascsi  as  a  cy* 
der.  The  averages  are  3096  m.  for  the  men ;  1985  m.  for  their  wives ;  5083  m.  for  each  married 
pair,  and  3541  m.  for  each  individual.  Ststistics  of  such  pleasant  "Orange  wanderings "  as 
these  have  an  evident  tendency,  however,  to  make  the  badielor  compiler  sad  at  heart;  and  soy 
rather  than  print  any  more  of  them,  1 11  put  a  stop  to  this  chapter,  right  here! 


XXXII. 

BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 

Great  Britain  possesses  at  least  a  quarter-of  a-million  wheelmen.  In- 
deed, some  guessers  insist  that  the  rea]  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 
l^  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  Fhichley  suburb  of  London,  whose  report  to  me  (May 
3,  '84)  b  dated  at  the  office  of  the  Fields  346  Strand.  I  infer  that  he  is  a  rq^ar  writer  for  that 
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  poesesaing  unequaled  facilities  for  locomotion.  Scarcely  a  mile  of 
country  but  is  intersected  by  a  road  of  some  kind,  and  althoi^h  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  dme  to  bicycling,  and 
this  may  account  for  my  riding  a  distance  about  three  times  greater  than  my  previous  yeariy 
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  northeriy  course,  as  by  that  means 


532 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


I  am  soonest  off  the  rough  granite  roads  which  surround  the  metropolis  for  a  radios  of  loor  rx  m. 
The  greater  part  of  the  distance  ridden  last  year  was  made  up  by  day  runs,  out  and  home,  aJthougb, 
when  I  had  a  few  days'  leisure,  I  would  go  and  stay  down  in   Bedfordshire,  where  there   are 
some  of  the  best  roads  in  the  country,  and  ride  about  in  all  direaions.     My  longest  day**  nm 
(154  m.)  was  from  Finchley  10  Nmman  Cross,  Huntingdonshire,  and  back,  with  deTiatioas»  and 
it  occupied,  with  stoppages,  20  h.     When  traveling  by  main  roads,  the  distances  are  readilj  dis- 
covered, when  not  known,  by  reference  to  an  interesting  old  book  called  '  Paterson's  Roads.* 
When  this  fails  me,  I  measure  the  distanoe  with  a  '  Wealemefna '  on  ordnance  or  other  larse** 
scale  maps.     My  longest  month's  score  was  1343  m.  and  the  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  directims,  sodi  as  Ldoester^  100  m.;  Ipswich, 
70  m.;  Eastbourne,  75  m.;  Birmingham,   no  m.;  Farringdon,   75  ro.;  Coventry,  90  nn.;  Lich* 
field,  120  m.;  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  Belsize  B.  C,  and  occufned 
nearly  three  weeks.    Crossing  to  Antwerp  and  traveling  by  tram  to  Basle,  in  Switseriand,  we 
rode  through  some  of  the  most  picturesque  scenery  and  traveraed  the  Furca  Pass,  8000  ft^  h%l» 
On  our  return  to  Basle,  we  had  covered  nearly  500  m.  of   new  ground.     My  total  chsianoe  for 
the  year  indudss  15  runs  of  10  m.  or   under ;  but  for  these,  the  average  length  dF  ead»   ride 
would  exceed  46  m.    The  distance  also  comprises  22  rides  of  100  m.  and  upwards  (amoantisg 
altogether  to  2373  m.)  and  35  rides  of  So  m.  and  over.    About  8000  m.  were  ridden  upoa  one 
bicycle,— a  52  in.  Matchless.     During  the  whole  year,  I  only  met  with  two  misha|»,  bat  io 
neither  case  did  any  harm  result.    The  first  was  by  over^^xmning  the  machine  of  a  c 
owing  to  his  pulling  up  suddenly  to  avoid  a  demonstrative  native  in  Switserland.     The 
time  I  was  unhorsed  occurred  near  London,  and  came  of  my  encountering  in  the  dark  a  hi^ge 
lump  of  coal,  negligently  dropped  from  a  cart.     My  score  of  10,053  m.  in  'S3  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 
12  longest  rides  is  1339  m.:    Jan.,  13,  301,  23, 100;  Feb.,  9,  575,  64,  104;  Mar.,  19,  683,  36, 
112 ;  Apr.,  20,  929,  46^,  136;  May,  24,  1169,  48^,  154;  June,  25,   1343,  54,  122;  July,  io»  5x2. 
52,  loi ;  Aug.,  24,  1206,  so,  107;  Sept.,  18,  640,  35},  103;  Oct.,  22,   1044,  A7\*  103;  Nov.,  >7, 
1050,  39,  102;  Dec,  19,  591,  3r,  105. 

"  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  39,68$  m.  to  this,  divided  \xf  years 
as  follows:  3333,  3315,  4485,  3700,  3695,  1496,  2486,  3904.  4ai8,  10,053.  My  low  score  of  '79 
resulted  from  my  attention  being  then  dividod  between  bicyding  and  yachting.  The  first  fairly 
long  run  I  took  was  90  m..  May  ti,  '73,  on  a  45  in.  bicycle  weighing  over  70  lbs.  Althoqgh  I 
had  done  innumerable  rides  of  70,  80  and  90  m.,  it  was  not  until  '75  that  I  accomplished  a  ma 
of  three  figures,  by  riding  laa  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  V7»  ^ra™  I^'^^  ^  London,  in  which  I  secared 
the  second  medal  (8  h.  35  min.).  On  June  xa,  '81, 1  rode  from  Finchley  to  Bedford,  4$  m.,  with- 
out  a  dismount,  in  3  h.  35  min.,  and,  restiog  i  h.  30  min.,  returned  by  the  same  road,  irithout  a 
dismount,  in  3  h.  33  min.  From  the  commencement,  I  have  kept  a  careful  acoMint  <rf  all  my 
riding,  with  any  incidents  worth  perpet\iating,  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 
alcoholic  beverages.  It  would  be  practically  impossible  for  me  to  asoertain  how  many  separate 
miles  of  road  I  have  traversed  in  making  my  last  year's  score  of  10,053  ;  or,  rather,  it  would  be  a 
work  of  such  great  labor  that  I  have  not  time  to  undertake  it  *,  but,  generally  qieakiqK*  n?  ridBUg 
has  not  been  so  varied  as  yours  appears  to  have  been.  I  should  say  that  it  wu  entirely  oDlikdy 
that  any  one  in  Europe  lud  ridden  anything  like  1420  m.  straightaway.  I  know  ol  no  sudi 
rids.  The  longest  that  has  been  done  in  England  (that  can  be  done)  is  from  Land's  End  to  John 
O'Groat's,  about  1000  m."    A  postscript  of  March  26,  '85,  adds:    "  My  opportunities  for  wheel* 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


533 


ing  were  tomudi  less  in  ^84  that  I  only  rode  a  little  over  4000  re.,  which,  though  a  good  score, 
seems  rather  insignificant  m  comparison  with  my  previous  year's.  It  raised  the  total  to  46,6cx). 
As  for  mere  newspaper  rumors  of  large  mileages,  which  are  '  computed  *  at  the  end  of  a  year, 
you  will  agree  with  me  that  the  least  a  rider  can  do  (and  also  the  most  he  can  do)  is  to  keep  a 
careful  record  of  every  run,  with  route,  time,  distances  and  other  details.  Unless  a  man  could 
produce  such  a  diary,  I  should  never  think  of  recognizing  his  score." 

H.  R.  Reynolds,  jr.,  (b.  N6v.  3,  1857)  reports  that  the  2030  m.  ridden  dnripg  the  first  half 
of  '85  increased  his  total  mileage  for  9  yean  to  55,930.  A  native  of  London,  and  now  a  resident 
there,  his  school  days  were  passed  at  Eton,  and  he  took  his  B.  A.  degree  at  Oxford  (New  Col- 
lege, as  an  "exhibitioner")  in  *8o.  During  the  four  years  ending  then  he  wheeled  20,898  m., 
as  shown  in  the  following  story,  dated  May  7,  '84  :  "I  learned  to  ride  in  April,  '77*  and  the 
total  number  of  m.  traversed  op  to  April,  '84,  Is  48,250.  Separate  miles  of  roadway,  15, 1 50.  Most 
separate  road  in  a  year,  should  say  about  4500  in  '8t.  First  long  ride,  100  m..  May  26,  '77. 
Mileage  by  years,  and  longest  rides,  thus  :  '77,  3069,  115 ;  '78,  5190,  125 ;  '79,  6061,  105 ;  '80, 
6578,  140;  '81,  8605,  140;  ^2,8700,  2ot;  '83,  8380,  184.  Have  been  into  all  the  counties  of 
England  on  bicyde,  and  know  Sussex,  Surrey,  Middlesex,  Herts,  Berks,  Oxfordshire,  Bucks, 
Hants  and  Worcestershire  well.  Have  never  ridden  on  Continent,  nor  in  Wales,  nor  Ireland. 
My  'S3  mileage  was  chiefly  done  by  riding  from  Croydon  to  Brighton  (46  m.)  on  Saturday 
afternoons  and  wheeling  back  early  on  the  following  Mondays,  starting  generally  about  5 
A.  M.  Furthennore,  the  fact  that  I  do  all  my  journeys  on  bicycle,  and  also  use  my  bicycle  in  all 
sorts  of  every-day  pursuits,  to  save  walking,  contributes  very  laiigely  to  the  amount.  Longest 
day's  ride  in  '84  was  on  a  tricyde  :  184  m.  in  22f  h.  Longest  ever  done  straightaway,  201  m., 
Lendon  to  York,  in  '82;  time,  21  h.  43  min.  Longest  stay  in  saddle,  70  m.  in  6}  h.  Longest 
toor,  Croydon  to  Edinbui^gh  and  back,  by  the  lake  district  to  Exeter  and  thence  to  London 
(about  13C0  ro.),  measured  by  Thompson's  cydom.  and  checked  by  the  '  Wealemefna '  on  the 
onhaance  map.  Percentage  of  night  riding  about  50,  as  I  am  in  the  City  during  the  day.  When 
I  give  1300  m.  as  the  length  of  my  '83  tour,  I  don't  mean  that  I  went  straight  on  all  the 
whfle.  I  merely  rode  during  the  long  vacation,  from  one  place  to  another,  to  visit  friends,  for  I 
«iv  the  bicyde  as  a  means  of  locomotion,  and  not  merely  for  sport.  My  best  performances,  if  I 
may  mention  what  have  been  said  to  be-my  best,  are  I  think  the  following:  London  B.  C.  race, 
Bath  to  London  (100  m.),  3d  in  '8x  (7  h.  58  min.),  ist  in  '82  (7  h.  26  min.)  and  ist  in  '83  (7  h. 
aS  min.).  I  also  won  the  2  m.  race  for  Oxford  University,  at  Cambridge,  in  6  min.  i{  sec. ,  which 
was  pretty  fast  then,  though  nothing  now.  On  June  29,  '82,  I  rode  from  London  to  York,  200 
m.  in  2x|h.,  though  the  wind  was  adverse  all  day.  Have  got  'time  medals'  at  the  50  m. 
championships  of  the  National  Cyclists'  Union  (of  whose  executive  I  have  been  a  member  3 
years),  namely  2.47.52  and  2.48.  x6.  Have  not  had  much  success  in  handicap  radng,  having  only 
twice  won  an  open  handicap.  Won  championship  of  Brighton  in  '82.  Started  in  '83  in  24  h. 
tri.  race,  without  any  intention  of  racing  for  first  place,  being  quite  unused  to  the  tricycle,  and 
got  a  gold  medal  for  doing  176  m.  (not  counting  8  or  9  lost  by  misdirection)  in  22}  h.  During 
the  last  7  years  I  have  won  altogether  about  20  prixes."  A  postscript  of  July  9  added :  "  If  you 
print  the  foregoing,  I  must  request  yon  to  lay  much  stress  upon  the  fact  that  nearly  all  my  bicy- 
cling is  done  as  a  means  of  locomotion,-— simply  to  avoid  walking  or  to  save  cab  or  railway  fares. 
I  do  not  wish  to  appear  as  one  whose  sole  occupation  is  riding  a  bicyde,  for  I  have  my  living  to 
earn  (I  am  a  solidtor),  and  the  drculation  of  such  a  report  as  that  might  injure  me.  It  is,  of 
coarse,  very  £ar  from  being  the  case.  In  fact,  out  of  600  m.  I  rode  last  month  not  50  were  ridden 
merely  for  the  sake  of  amusement,  and  the  whole  was  out  of  office  hours,  which  are  10  a.  m.  to 
5  r.  M.  Furthermore,  I  am  by  no  means  a  man  with  only  one  hobby.  I  have  taken  3  or  4  prizes 
at  school  and  college  (for  examinations  in  classics,  history,  and  the  like)  to  every  one  priie  I  have 
taken  at  athletics ;  I  have  also  won  prizes  at  ice-skating,  lawn-tennis,  and  running.  I  very  often 
ride  my  bicycle  merely  to  get  to  the  lawn-tennis  grounds.  Another  reason,  besides  the  one  I 
mentioned  above  for  my  wishing  to  give  prominence  to  the  fact  that  I  don't  ride  the  bicycle  much 
merely  for  pleasure,  is  this :  I  want  the  public  to  appreciate  bicycles  and  tricycles  as  means  of 
saving  time  and  troubfe ;  as  useful  instruments,  and  not  as  toys.    At  present  they  are  still  too 


534 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


apt  to  regard  them  in  this  latter  light*'    Outing  accepted  my  reports  from  both  these  lonf-As- 
taoce  men,  as  wortliy  of  insertion  in  its  columns,  Aug.,  '84,  pp.  394-396. 

"  Faed "  is  perhaps  the  best-known  signature  of  the  many  used  in  the  cycling  press  bf 
Arthur  J.  Wilson  (b.  Feb.  17,  1858),  vice-president  of  the  North  London  Tricycling  Club,  wfane 
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  realiy  wonder- 
ful thing  about  the  matter  is  that  all  this  should  have  been  accomplished  without  acddeat  bjr  a 
man  who  is  handicapped  with  a  most  disheartening  bodily  infirmity ;  for  the  name  (which  he 
earliest  signed,  in  his  aist  year,  to  a  parody  in  the  AmericoM  Bkyling Joitmal)  signifies  that 
the  rider  is  totally  deaf.  His  first  letter  to  me  (March  19,  '84)  reads  thus :  "  My  '83  reconi  k 
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  1  wheeled 
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  tlus  worthy  of  publication.  During  my  pnmosi 
years'  cycling  experiences,  I  only  kept  record  of  distances  in  '80,  when  I  rode  about  3400  m.  on 
bicycles.  It  is  impossible  to  guess  at  my  total  mileage,  so  I  will  not  try ;  but  if  you  desire  to  obcain 
a  representative  record  of  long^disUnce  bicycling,  I  should  recommend  you  to  refer  to  Mesas. 
Reynolds  or  Tegetmeier,  who  have  some  very  big  annual  totals.  Keeping  records  is  not  ?ery 
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  Edinba]^ 
and  Glasgow  being  the  only  occasion  upon  which  I  went  more  than  150  m.  away.  Of  cooise, 
even  in  such  a  restricted  radius,  there  are  so  many  thousands  of  m.  of  roads  in  En^aad  that 
there  is  plenty  of  variety.  Still,  my  habits  are  not  of  an  exploring  nature,  but  I  ride  the  laae 
roads  over  and  over  again.  My  longest  day's  straightaway  was  128  m.,  from  my  house  here  lo 
a  friend's  house  in  Dorsetshire.  I  've  also  done  125  m.  straightaway.  My  other  'centuries*  wefe 
104  ro.,  out-and-home  on  a  sociable  with  a  lady,  and  108  m.,  out-and-home  on  a  single  trif^de. 
I  never  did  more  than  83  m.  in  a  day  on  a  bicycle.  I  once  rode  a  bi.  36  m.  straightaway  wi^ 
out  a  dismount,  in  a  pouring  rain ;  but  never  made  an  effort  at  such  feats.  My  longest  tonr  was  of 
about  1,000  m.  in  three  weeks,  on  a  bicycle.  Really  the  only  feat  I  ever  performed  on  a  bL  was 
in  riding  from  my  home  in  Clapton,  the  n.  subuibs  of  London,  through  the  city  traffic,  to  Tem- 
ple Bar,  in  the  busy  part  of  the  morning,  without  once  touching  my  handles ;  though  only  those 
who  know  the  crowded  state  of  London  streets  can  adequately  appreciate  this.  I  am  not  a 
strong  rider;  never  won  any  races  worth  mentioning;  frequently  curl  up  when  on  hard  rides; 
only  seem  a  good  rider  when  amongst  '  the  mugs.'  For  swift  performances  you  must  godbe- 
where.  My  hill-climbing  feats  on  high-geared  tricycles  have  been  due  principally  to  '  thinkiag 
it  over  as  I  go  along,'  and  determination.  When  on  a  day's  journey,  I  frequently  walk  up  very 
easy  hills  simply  because  I  happen  to  feel  lazy.  In  a  word,  I  ride  for  pleasure,  not  for  records." 
Further  enquiries  of  mine  brought  these  other  details  (April  14)  :  "  By  a  very  cursory  measure- 
ment of  my  nuip  of  Britain,  I  guess  I  have  ridden  over  about  4000  distinct  ra.  of  ground,  in- 
cluding perhaps  nearly  aooo  within  ao  m.  of  the  center  of  London  I  Our  roads  are  so  numenms, 
you  see,  compared  with  yours,  that  we  can  ride  many  thousands  of  distinct  m.  within  a  very  smaB 
area.  With  the  exception  of  the  tour  to  Eldinburgh,  all  my  riding  has  been  within  140  m.  of 
London  I  And  still  there  are  numberless  places  close  at  home  which  I  have  yet  to  visit ;  and 
still  the  old  familiar  roads  are  ever  attractive !  Since  last  June,  I  've  been  compelled  to  rdis- 
quish  wood-engraving  entirely,  it  was  so  harmful  to  my  e]resight ;  and,  if  I  had  Z300  to  spare. 
I  would  take  a  12  months*  tour  through  Great  Britain.  I  believe  I  could  cover  iS,ooo  m.  is  the 
year,  with  pleasure  and  heahhf  ul  enjoyment.  Such  ft  journey  would  afford  material  for  a  very 
interesting  book,  I  imagine ;  but  publishers  here  are  not  liberal  enough  to  make  it  worth  while. 

He  seems,  in  fact,  to  have  found  it  more  profitable  to  describe  an  imaginary  '*  Journey 
through  Cydonia,"  which  is  the  title  of  an  .octavo  of  100  pages,  issued  in  Dec,  '85.  as  the 
"Christmas  number  of  the  Cyclist^*  and  which  contains  two  or  three  likenesses  of  himaelf 
among  its  many  pictures  and  portraits.     The  work  spent  upon  a  similar  book,  called  "  Our 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


535 


Camp,**  which  umA  as  the  nme  paper's  Christmas  nomber  m  '84,  was  probably  more  remu« 
n^rative  also  than  ihat  given  to  the  actual  "  camp/'  at  the  Alexandra  Palace  grounds,  a  few 
momha  earlier.  The  joint-author  with  him  in  the  production  of  both  these  annuals  was  A.  G. 
Morriaoo  (b.  i860),  a  member  of  the  same  tri.  club,  who  uses  the  signature  "  Titanambungo," 
and  the  illustiations  were  supplied  by  G.  Moore.  In  a  printed  analysis  of  his  '84  tricycling,  Mr. 
W.  says :  **Owing  to  three  successive  aoddeou  on  the  race-path,  I  was  laid  up  for  several 
weeks  during  the  best  part  of  the  summer,  so  that  my  mileage  for  May,  June,  July  and  Aug. 
svas  only  1510,  as  compared  with  3189  for  Mar.,  Apr.,  Sepc  and  Oct.,  and  1645  ^oc  J^n-i  Feb., 
Nov.  and  Dec.  Mileage  of  machines  ridden  was  as  follows:  Tandems,  geared  to  57  in.  and  64 
in-,  1614;  Quadrant,  geared  to  60  in.,  1497;  Rotary,  geared  to  58  in.,  1361;  Imperial  Club, 
geared  to  61  in.,  571;  sodables  geared  to  between  37  in.  and  60  in.,  476;  Humber  pattern, 
geared  to  between  53  in.  and  60  in.,  454 ;  various,  geared  to  between  33  in.  and  6z  in.,  371. 
Longest  day's  mileages  :  116,  131,  151,  i S4»  Aid  16a."  His  report  for  '85  says  :  "  I  rode  the 
Quadrant  tricycle,  4S10  m.;  Undems,  1030;  Rover  safety  bicycles,  1079;  various  machines,  40a ; 
but  though  I  did  some  wheeling  in  the  open  air  on  each  of  the  365  days,  the  same  as  in  '83,  it 
was  not  all  lestricted  to  tricycles  as  then.  •  Short^distance  racing  reduced  my  road  riding  during 
the  summer,  whose  weather  was  at  first  very  dry  and  then  very  wet  and  windy.  Mud  and  fogs 
prevailed  during  the  last  \  tA  the  year  also,  as  well  as  in  the  first  part  of  it,— so  that  March, 
April  and  May  (when  I  covered  3843  ra.)  were  the  only  fair  riding  months."  His  letter  to  me 
of  Aug.  8,  '85,  says :  "  I  first  rode  a  bone-shaker  when  at  school  in  '69,  but  only  took  regulariy 
to  the  modern  wheel  in  '77.  At  the  merest  guess,  I  have  probably  ridden  in  all  30,000  m.  Fnr> 
tber  deuiki  I  have  none.  My  machinee  were  in  '77  a  54  in.  Special  Cliallenge,  in  '78  a  hollow- 
spoked  all-bright  Carver,  in  '79  a  nickeled  Carver,  in  '80  another  ditto,  in  *8i  and  '2a  a  56  in. 
Arab  light  roadster,  and  since  then  almost  every  kind  of  tricycle  made,  but  principally  the  Qub 
•odable,  Imperial  Club  »ngle,  Centaur  tandem.  Club  lacer,  Humber,  and  Quadrant  roadster 
and  racer.  The  longest  mileage  on  any  one  machine  was  about  5000  m.  on  the  40  in.  Quadrant 
roadster,  which  I  am  still  riding,  geared  up  to  60  in.  You  will  see,  by  comparing  the  rec> 
onis,  that  I  ride  farther  and  farther  every  year."  In  the  following  summary,  the  four  columns 
of  numerals  respectively  signify  riding  days,  mileage,  longest  ride  and  average  ride.  The  upright, 
lines  distinguish  the  central  year,  1884,  from  '83  on  the  left  and  '85  on  the  right 


Jan 31 

Feb a8 

Mar.,...  31 

Apr.,, 

May,. 

June, 

July,. 

Aug., 


SepL,..  30.. 
OcL,...  3»- 
Nov.,..  30. 
Dec,...  31. 

365. 


309- 

.  36. 

.10 

a34.- 

,  4«. 

.8* 

456. 

.  66. 

.14 

5.8.. 

•  54. 

•«7 

537- 

.  49- 

.17* 

529.. 

•   53- 

.17* 

8S3.. 

.125. 

.36J 

436.. 

•  79* 

.«3» 

525.. 

.   70. 

.17* 

659.. 

.138. 

.31 

«OI.. 

.  4S. 

.30 

407. 

..  45- 

•13 

5023.. 

.128. 

.i6j" 

33.. 
89.. 
31.. 
37.. 
30.. 
8.. 


37.. 
31.. 
36.. 
18.. 


.    340. 

..  475- 
..  969. 
..  653. 

•  735- 

•  «5S- 
.  356. 
.  364. 
.  $63. 
.1005.. 
.  548. 
.  a8a.. 

,.6344. 


•  35. 
.  40. 
.131- 
.«54. 
.  83. 

•  34- 
.  38. 
.  43. 
.  64. 
.163. 
.  91. 

•  34. 


...15* 

...,6* 

...31 

...i4 

...a4i 

...19 

...13 

...J7 

...31 
...33 
...31 
...16 

...33 


•  39«>< 

.  44«.. 

.  847.. 

.  833.. 

.1164.. 

.  436., 

.  48a.. 

.  495.. 
30.....  597., 

31 645-. 

30 391.. 

3« 394«- 


31.. 

38.. 
31.. 
30.. 
31.. 
3a. 
31.. 
31.. 


365. 


.7021. 


.  39. 
.  66. 

•  79- 
.  83. 
.107.C 

.138. 

.  47* 
.  4a. 

.    58 30 

•  49 a» 

•  33 lo 

•  35 «3 

.138 19} 


.134 
.16 

•«7 
.aS 

374 

.«5* 


"  The  most  wonderful  bicycle  trip  yet  done  "  {Cfdhi),  **  the  greatest  road-reoord  in  En- 
gland "  (tVAeelitig),  was  that  of  2054  m.  taken  during  the  first  19  days  of  June,  '85,  by  H.  R. 
Goodwin  (b.  Oct.  3t,  1855),  a  wholesale  jeweler,  at  Manchester,  where  he  has  been  engaged 
since  '68  in  the  self-same  shop,— No.  6Swanst.  Hb  business  begins  at  9  a.  m.  and  lasts  la 
h.  (14  h.  on  Saturdays),  and  he  personally  attends  to  it  for  67  h.  each  week,  absenting  himself 
Wednesday  afternoons  only.  He  Ukes  a  fortnight's  vacation,  in  the  autumn,  but  his  other  holi- 
days of  the  year  do  not  exceed  a  week  when  combined.  In  the  face  of  this  close  confinement 
for  49  weeks  out  of  the  53,  he  would  not  \)e  picked  out,  off  hand,  as  a  probable  long-dtstaace 


536  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

rider ;  and  the  fact  of  his  haying  nevertheless  wheeled  30,000  m.  during  the  last  5^  years  ought 
to  teach  people  not  to  draw  hasty  inf exences,  from  the  laige  records  of  other  men,  that  these 
others  spend  so  much  of  their  time  in  the  saddle  as  to  neglea  the  more  sexioiu  duties  of  life. 
His  case  is  an  excellent  illustration  of  the  coooomy  of  bicycling,  as  compared  with  other  pas- 
times,  for  a  man  whose  leisure  is  limited.    "  Locked  up  here,  much  like  a  caged  hird,'*  be 
says,  **  I  saw  I  must  have  some  sort  of  eaerdse ;  and,  as  I  am  kept  out  o£  other  sports  by 
their  happening  mostly  on  Saturdays,  I  resolved  to  learn  the  bicyde."    Further  quotalioas  are 
given  from  his  letters  to  me  of  March  a8,  April  27,  July  19  and  Dec  31,  '85  :    **  I  am  5  ft.  3 
in.  high,  and  ride  a  48  in.  ordinary  bL,  and  also  a  38  in.  Facile.    In  a  geneial  way,  my  riding 
may  be  assigned  {  to  Sundays,  and  \  each  10  Wednesday  afternoons,  to  pighu  after  6nishiiig 
business  at  9,  and  to  the  three  weeks  of  holidays.     It  is  done  exclusively  on  the  rood,  as  1  've 
never  engaged  hi  racing.    My  mile^^  by  years,  with  number  of  riding  days  and  longest  ride, 
maybe  shown  thus:     '80,1737,66,83;  '81,5665,239,111}    '83,  6083,  197,   198;    'Sj,  5707, 
165,  158! ;  '84,  5465*  i32f  xSa  ;  'S5>  5355>  ^Mt  a>4-    I  show  my  '85  mileage  by  mooths  in  the 
same  way:    Jan.,  87,  xo,  16;  Feb.,  129,4,  5>  *  Mar.,  225,  13,61;  Apr.,  459^  la,   107;    May, 
318,  16,  88;  June,  2340,33,  136^;  July,  439,  17,  74;  Aug.,  374,  i3,  80;  Sept.,  814,  11,  ai4; 
Oct.,  141,8,58;  Nov.,  111,9,41;  Dec.,  137,9^39.    It  thus  qppeara  that  on  331  days  of  I85  I 
did  not  ride  at  all.    The  314  m.  was  done  Sept  36,  in  19^  h.  of  actual  riding,  00  a  43  in.  Facflc, 
new  style;  and  my  second-best  ride  of  ^85  was  183^  m.,  Sept.  ao,  on  a  48  in.  Racker.    My  *ha 
mileage  was  confined  to  the  last  \  of  the  year,  and  excludes  a  lot  of  short  runs  not  bo«dced. 
The  mileage  of  my  14  days'  autumn  vacation,  in  '80,  was  563 ;  in  *8(,  748;  in  '83,  610  and  n 
'83  (13  days),  868.     My  day's  rides  in  excess  of  xoo  m.  were  6  in  '81,  8  in  '8a  (198,  175,  X4a,  123, 
ttal.\b\tL*%i  (158},  i37>  >42*  >33»  »2  an<i  '<»)>  »  in  '&I  (■&>>  165,  163,  163,  X5X,  133,  115,  iia, 
«t  al.\  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  '8i>  I  made  346  m.  in  s 
days ;  in  '83,  364  m.  in  z\  days ;  in  '83,  194  ul  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,  1332  m.  in  14^  consecutive 
days,  during  which  I  rested  1  day  14^  h.  and  again  \4ik  h.,— the  actual  riding  time  being  13  days 
5}  h.    This  ride  was  accomplished  on  a  34  in.  Facile,  and  its  gross  time  was  accepted  sa 
*  record '  from  930  to  1333  m.    The  amount  of  separate  road  traversed  in  '84  was  move  than 
2500  m.,  and  I  estimate  my  total  of  separate  road  as  more  than  6000  m.    I  *ve  been  on  nearly 
every  main  and  by-rmid  in  the  home  counties,  and  have  wheeled  in  34  oomaties  of  England,  16 
of  Scotland  and  2  of  Wales,— besides  about  200  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  rain.,  and  the 
return  to  Land's  End  (1754^  m.)  in  15  d.  19  h.  45  min.    The  stopping.place  and  mileage  of  each 
day  were  as  fdlows,  vrith  intermediate  points  in  parenthesis  :    June  1st,  Exeter  (induding  5  n. 
out  of  way  at  start),   123^ ;  2d,  Gloucester  (Bridgewater,   Bristol),   109^ ;  3d,   Beestoo  Castle 
(Bridgenorth,  Frees),  rot';  4th,  Kendal  (through    Lancashire),   95 ;  5th,  Alrington  (over  Shap 
Fells),  103 ;  6th,  Blair  Athole  (Burntisland),   118;    7th,   Clashmore  Inn  (Kessock,  Altnamain, 
Bonar),  136^;  8th,  John  O'Groat's  (S6|  m.;  stayed  2}  h.),  then  back  to  Wick,  106;  9th,  Inver- 
ness  (Oashmore,  Bonar,  Altnamain,  2  m.  extra),  130};  loth,  Perth  (direct),  11  si;  nth,  Lock« 
erbie  (Burntisland  and  Abington),  114;  12th,  Preston  (over  Shap  Fells),  115 ;  xsth,  Bridegnonh 
(Whitchurch,  Wellington),  96 ;  J4th,  Bristol  (Gloucester),  88 ;  15th,  Okeharopton  (Exeter),  97; 
i6th.  Land's  End  (Truro),  106 ;  17th,  Bodmin  (Truro),  59;  i8lh,  Yeovil  (2  m.,  Bridestow),  Z12; 
19th,  Andertoii's  Hotel,  London  (4  m.  at  Shaftesbury),  129.     I  don't  think  I  walked  10  m.  00 
the  whole  trip.    I  Iiad  company  (7  or  8  riders  in  all)  for  less  than  150  m.;  but  I  took  68  auto- 
graphs of  witnesses  to  my  signature,  with  place  and  hour  named,  and  I  sent  off  some  40  tele> 
grams  and  100  lettere,  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  suit, 
makes  the  ride  seem  more  notable.    The  middle  piece  of  it  was  the  best,— namely,  fitrni  Abing* 
ton  to  the  North  and  back  to  Preston,  835  m.  in  6  d.  20  h.    If  I  had  noticed  this,  at  the  time,  I 
would  have  ridden  all  night  on  the  6th  day  and  so  made  a  better  performance  still ;  in  fact,  I 
should  undoubtedly  have  beaten  the  record  for  7  days  by  a  lot    You  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  537 

I  finished  fresher  and  better  in  health  than  ever.  On  the  day  after  the*  sapper  they  gaw  me  in 
LoodoD  (fl  e.f  on  the  soth),  1  went  to  Ripley,  riding  over  60  m.  and  i^Knding  about  6  h.  there, 
and  every  one  seemed  surprised  to  see  how  well  I  was.  It  is  worth  noting  that  I  rode  down 
every  hill  during  the  entire  2054  m.  trip,— excepting  a  few  places  where  there  were  loose  stones 
ri|fht  across  the  road,— «nd  kept  1^^  over  the  handles  in  nearly  every  case.  A  few  miles  out  of 
Loodon,  we  came  on  an  old  disused  txam  line,  and  this  gave  me  my  only  fall,  which  did  no  dam- 
age. When  we  got  00  to  the  asphalt,  several  policemen  wanted  to  stop  us,  though  it  only  was 
3  A.  M. ,  for  they  saw  we  were  riding  furiously.  However,  we  reached  our  destination  in  spite  of 
them,  and  I  was  ringing  Anderton's  bell  as  the  clocks  chimed,  at  3.45,  exactly  19  days  from  the 
start.  I  wore  at  the  start  about  twice  the  weight  of  clothes  that  I  (Ud  at  the  finish,  for  I  kept 
seoffing  small  parcels  of  them  home.  My  principal  food  was  beef,  mutton  and  fish,  without 
vegetables.  I  had  tea,  ocyffee  or  cocoa  at  nearly  every  meal ;  occasionally  soop  as  well ;  por- 
ridge a  few  times ;  brown  bread  and  oat  cakes  where  procurable ;  plenty  of  butter  and  gravy ; 
preserves  and  sweet  fruits  in  moderation.  I  ate  no  pastry,  but  took  the  fniit  out  of  pies,  or  stewed 
fruit ;  had  about  5  msalsa  day  (meat  to  each),  with  milk-and-soda  or  milk-and-eggs  in  between. 
The  things  that  disagreed  with  me  were  fried  salt  beef  (cured  like  ham),  currant  and  raisin 
biead  (neariy  new),  lemon  (too  add),  and  lemon  squash.  I  found  lamb,  chicken,  ham^nd-eggs, 
or  ^gs  alone,  not  sufficient  for  a  main  meal ;  for  I  always  rode  badly  if  I  did  not  have  either 
beef,  mutton  or  fish.'*  The  Cycl£si*t  report  added  :  "  Mr.  G.  is  a  teetotaler,  and  he  found 
even  lemonade  detrimental,  if  taken  in  quantity.  Though  averaging  108  m.  a  day  for  19  days, 
his  Facile  sustained  no  damage  but  two  broken  spokes.  Five  times  had  he  done  125  m.  in  the 
day ;  and  except  one  day,  when  he  had  ridden  until  1.30  a.  M.,  to  get  into  Preston,  he  had  never 
felt  tired ;  nor  had  he  throughout  the  journey  been  saddle  sore,  his  seat  being  a  Lamplt^h  ft 
Brown's  Eclipae  saddle.  He  preferred,  he  said,  the  s.  to  n.  route,  owing  to  the  greater  chance 
of  fair  wrinds,  but,  given  a  calm,  would  choose  the  n.  to  s.  route  for  gradients." 

John  W.  M.  Brown  (b.  July  as,  1858),  chief  consul  for  Lincolnshire  of  the  C.  T.  C,  a 
fanner  and  large  grower  of  potatoes  at  Luttoo,  Long  Sutton,  whose  bicycle  mileage  would  more 
than  twice  endrde  the  globe,  if  extended  in  a  straight  line,  contributes  the  following  :  "  I  can 
jost  remember  the  old  bone-shakers  which  were  all  the  rage  in  '73,  when  I  was  a  boy  of  15,  liv- 
ing on  an  off-£arm  of  my  father's,  .some  aS  m.  from  Long  Sutton.  I  bought  a  38-indier  (by 
sending  a  P.  O.  O.  for  jC4>  in  answer  to  an  alluring  bazaar  adv.),  in  the  happy  belief  that  I  might 
ride  across  and  pleasantly  snrprtse  the  people  at  home ;  but,  after  2  mos.  usage  had  shown  me 
that  no  more  than  i  m.  could  be  ridden  without  taking  a  long  rest,  I  sold  it  in  disgust  for  10  shil- 
lings, and  attempted  no  more  bicyding  till  '76.  A  friend  called  on  me  then,  one  day,  riding  a 
48  in.  Lynn  Express ;  and  I  mounted  it  to  have  a  try.  It  proved  so  much  easier  than  the  bone- 
shaker, that,  before  I  got  off,  I  had  been  to  Dodring  and  back,  10  m.  Of  course,  I  bought  a 
machine  (48  in.  Coventry  Gentleman,  second-hand),  and  rode  it  a  good  many  miles,  or  until  a 
friend  broke  its  front  axle  for  me.  Then  I  got  a  52  in.  Singer  Challenge,  and,  on  this,  took  my 
lottg-thought-of  ride  to  Long  Sutton,  doing  the  28  m.  in  3  h.,  which  I  then  thought  a  great  feat. 
I  spent  most  of  my  spare  time  on  the  bi,  and  at  the  end  of  the  season  had  ridden  3065  miles. 
In  '77, 1  rode  no  less  than  5620^  m.,  my  longest  ride  being  41  m.  in  about  6  h.  In  '78, 1  rode 
6232^  m.,  the  machine  used  being  a  56  in.  Desideratum,  weighing  about  54  lbs.  My  longest 
day's  ride  was  to  Lutton  and  back,  56  m.  In  '79,  I  did  not  ride  so  much,  only  doing  3921  m. 
(kmgest  ride,  63  m.X  but,  towards  the  end  of  the  year,  having  exchanged  my  old  bi.  for  a  54  in. 
Singer's  Challenge,  I  improved  a  good  deal  in  my  riding.  In  '80,  my  career  as  a  racing  man  began. 
I  ran  my  first  races  on  Easter  Monday  (Mar.  29),  at  the  Fakenham  Cricket  Club  sports,  win- 
ning the  I  m.  open  handicap  from  the  86  yds.  mark  by  40  yds.;  i  r  starteis,  J.  B.  Campling  being 
at  scratdL  I  also  won  the  4  m.  race  from  the  400  yds.  marie,  12  starters,  Campling  on  scratch. 
I  won  by  xoo  yds.,  lapping  the  scratch  man.  The  course  was  heavy  grass,  the  machine  used 
bdng  my  old  54  in.  Challenge,  weighing  56  lbs.,  with  i}  in.  rubber  on  driving-wheeL  The 
prizes  were  silver  cups,  valued  at  £iz  X2S.  and  £t  68.  Of  course  this  put  me  on  my  metal, 
and  I  again  tried  my  lock  at  the  Whitmonday  sports,  at  Lynn,  but,  being  put  next  to  scratdi, 
did  not  get  anything.    During  the  season  I  ran  at  several  meetings  in  Norfolk  and  Lincolnshire, 


538         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

with  varying  suoceae,  my  most  notable  win  being  in  the  annoal  inter<ounty  race  between  Nor- 
folk  and  Sufiolk,  8  men  representing  each  couiyty,  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  1  should  stand  no  chance,  but  I  managed  to  ma 
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  woo  6 
first,  3  second  and  a  third  prizes,  and  rode  6344  m.  In  '81, 1  moved  to  Dodcing,  in  Norfolk, 
and  rode  during  the  year  no  less  than  7303  m.  I  this  year  used  a  55  in.  Sandringham,  made  es- 
pecially for  roe  by  Cox,  of  Lynn,  and  a  splendid  machine  it  was  at  that  time.  My  nx»t  nocaUc 
rides  this  year  were  :  Docking  to  Diss,  61  m.  in  5  h.,  Apr.  17 ;  Ipswich  to  Docking,  fia  m.  is 
loi  h.,  Apr.  19  (strong  head  wind),  and  Docking  to  Peterboro  and  back,  117  m.,  June  aa,  the 
first  time  I  ever  rode  as  much  as  100  m.  in  a  day.  I  took  during  the  year  7  first,  4  scoond  axid  % 
third  prises.     I  sailed  Sept.  39  for  Canada,  where  I  spent  the  winter,  returning  home  in  March. 

"  During  '83, 1  went  in  for  bicycling  with  a  vengeance,  riding  no  less  than  976a  m.,  ray 
longest  ride  being  150  m.  in  18  h.  on  a  44  in.  Facile,  in  the  great  34  h.  race  from  London  to  Balk 
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  modal  in  Facile  race,  I  took  ix  first  prizes,  4  second  and  3 
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.,  takii^  7  first 
and  8  second  prizes  and  a  gold  medal.  This  brought  my  number  of  prizes  up  to  53.  Duriiic 
the  season  I  rode  91 1|  m.  in  four  34  h.  rides  thus  :  June  33,  317}  m.,  in  the  Facile  lajoe.  1 
could  have  increased  this  to  330  m.,  if  I  had  known  where  Adams  was.  July  7,  in  the  trkyde 
race,  I  pushed  a  44  in.  Facile  206  m.  and  then  gave  up,  at  11.05  '•  M.,  having  several  tinna  kisi 
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  231^  m.,  thus  easily  beat- 
ing the  record.  So  certain  was  I,  however,  of  being  able  to  do  more  under  better  diciimstaacfs 
that,  on  Aug.  17,  I  made  another  attempt,  and  by  midnight  had  ridden  355}  m.  After  this  ride, 
I  announced  my  intention  of  retiring  from  the  racing  path,  but  the  old  love  being  so  strong  ia 
'84,  I  could  not  resist  the  invitation  to  race  again  ;  and,  entering  for  four  events  at  the  Wiibech 
sports  on  Whitmonday,  I  won  the  lot, — all  from  scratch.  I  ran  at  a  few  other  meetings  dniing 
the  year  and  took  3  second  prizes ;  also  a  medal  in  the  100  m.  Kangaroo  race.  My  whok  mile- 
age in  *84  was  4x30.  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  6a.  I  now  ride  a  light  $> 
in.  Sandringham,  and  I  keep  by  me  my  old  53  in.  Sandringham,  whidi  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  1  did  n*t  make  a  note  of  it  al 
the  time,  and  I  think  they  were  turned  once.  The  present  tires  will  s^rve  for  many  m.  more, 
for  my  brother  uses  the  old  bi.  nearly  every  day.  Owing  partly  to  my  recent  marriage*  I  *ve 
only  wheeled  1323  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  ray  knowledge  of  roads  near  home,  and  from 
maps  and  county  directories,  supplemented  by  enquiries  made  while  riding.  Most  of  onr  high- 
ways have  m.  stones  on  them,  and  whenever  there  *s  been  any  doubt  about  distances,  I  've  pi« 
down  the  lowest  one ;  so  that  I  'm  sure,  in  fact,  of  having  traveled  many  more  m.  than  re- 
corded. I  've  takea  no  note  of  '  separate  miles,'  but  my  rides  have  cmbmccd  most  of  ihe 
principal  roads  in  eastern,  southern  and  central  England." 

"  The  Haverstock  Cycling  Gub  are  essentially  a  road-riding  club,"  says  Whtelmg^  "and 
may  well  be  proud  of  their  prowess  in  piling  up  distances."  The  sub-captain  of  that  dn^ 
Harry  J.  Jones  (b.  May  3,  1864),  rode  16,016  m.  during  the  3  years  ending  with  June,  *8s,  and 
no  less  than  3597  m.  of  this  was  separate  roadway.  The  riding  dayv  were  558,  showing  ss 
average  ride  of  38}  m.  Riding  days,  mileage,  longest  ride,  aven^  ride,  and  fresh  road  of 
each  year,  are  shown  by  the  following  figures  :    '83,  37,  1012,  65,  37,  349I ;  '83,  aos,  soasi,  169, 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  539 

a4t.  *59i ;  '«4,a87, 8»4i|»  a©/*.  a9t  *63o;  '85,  3a,  1740,  143. 54*.  74*.    It  will  be  seen  that  the 
two  years,  '83-'84,  show  a  mileage  of  13,364,  as  compared  with  3853  of  the  two  half-yean 
combined.    The  rider's  reports  to  me  (Jan.  and  July,  '85)  are  as  follows  :    "  I  use  the  bicy- 
^e  to  save  walking  whenever  possible,  both  for  journeying  to  business  and  for  various  every- 
day piuauits.    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,  Suffolk,  Surrey,  and  Northamptonshire  well.     I  liave  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, 
DerVy,  Leicester,  and  Northampton.    The  time  was  8  days,  and  the  m.  of  separate  roadway 
equaled  555.    This  was  foltowed,  near  the  close  of  the  month,  by  a  visit  to  the  Druidical  re- 
mains at  Stonehenge,  and  to  Salisbury  and  Wincanton,  343  m.  in  3  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,  Bcccles,  Nor- 
wich, Fressingfield,  Lowestoft;  home  by  Cambrii^  and  Ricely,  456  m.  (fresh  ground  329  m.). 
I  have  also  made  several  circular  excursions  in  '84,  starting  in  the  afternoon  and  nSxag  through- 
out the  night  and  the  next  day ;  by  these  means  bringing  more  fresh  country  within  my  reach. 
•^-  g'i  to  Warwick,  189  ro.,  taking  up  about  33  h.;  Buckingham  and  Kimbolton,  181  m.,  in  about 
37  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,  338  m.;  or  for  separate  road  only  (/.  «.,  ground  never  before 
traversed  by  me),  701,  457,  and  169  m.  respectively.    My  mileage  of  8341  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  aiay  m.  and  averaging  133  m.  each ;  35  rides  from  50  to  95  m.',  averag* 
iog  66  m.;  Z70  rides  of  from  11  to  49  m.,  and  74  rides  of  10  m.  and  under ;  these  last  lowering  the 
'average  length  '  considerably.    The  four  best  rides  average  175  ro.,  the  9  best,  151  ro.,  while 
the  34  longest  average  100  m.  each.    The  very  longest  was  307I  m.  Oct.  5,  in  33  h.  54  min. 
Longest  suy  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  dayUghL    I  've  started  out  at  midnight  on   13  occasions,  the  rides 
aver;4;ing  121  m.    Longest  stretch  of  road  traversed  without  any  walking,  162  m.  on  the  Great 
North  Road,  from  London  (Smithfield)  to  Doncaster.     On  July  34,  '83,  I  rode  to  Norman's 
Cross  and  back,  with  deviation,  151  m.,  in  16  h.  5  min.,  doing   100  m.  of  it  in  9  h.  54  min.,  for 
chib  medal.    April  13,  '83,  to  Wandaford  and  back,  163  m.,  winnii^  a  much-coveted  prize,  an 
old  book  called  '  Paterson's  Roads,'  offered  by  Mr.  Hayes  for  the  greatest  distance  out-andrin 
on  the  Great  North  Road.    I  took  the  attendance  prize  as  well,  by  covering  1536I  m.  in  the  3a 
consecutive  runs,  which  induded  the  excursions  to  Ipswich,  Lewes,  and  Portsmouth,  and  the  two 
150-m.  competitions.    I  learned  to  ride  in  June,  'Is,  and  in  Sept.  took  train  to  Lincoln,  and 
wheeled  back  to  London,  136  m.,  in  3^  days.    This  first  ride  in  Lincolnshire  was  not  a  success ; 
as,  losing  all  control  on  the  dangerous  hill  at  Wellingore,  I  fell  on  my  head  and  back,  breakmg 
off  the  saddle  as  well.    This,  the  blacksmith  at  Leadenham  fastened  on  with  wire,  but  the  last 
30  m.  of  my  joomey  home  was  accomplished  by  means  of  string.    First  long  ride  (undertaken 
to  top  the  '  century')  was  on  April  13,  '83,  to  Wansfbrd  and  back,  163  m.,  in  19I  h.     My  pre- 
vious best  was  69  m.     Longest  stay  in  saddle,  39  m.  in  3I  h.     I  have  kept  a  record  of  all  my 
riding  from  the  first,  inth  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  onlnance 
maps,  and  by  actual  measurement.     My  8341  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  cdumns  of  numerals  respectively  denote  riding  days. 


540 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


mileage,  longest  ride  and  average  ride..  The  fiflh  column  of  the  second  table  shows  the  nigM- 
riding  of  *84,  and  the  sixth  shows  the  combined  mileage  of  the  two  yean  : 


Jan.,.. 
Feb.,.. 
Mar.,. 
April,. . 
May,  . 
June, . 
July,... 
Aug.,., 
Sept.,.. 
Oct.,... 
Nov.,., 
Dec,. 


56a| 

704 

494 

55SI 

48a 

578 

496 

556* 

259* 

309* 


69 
i6a 

80 
158 
ISO* 

76J 

122 

"S 

32 


Totals, 202     S022a     i^ 


33 
35 
>4l 
29* 

25 

2Ci 
29 
42! 
10 

»4 
Hi 


Jan.,.. 
Feb.,.. 
Mar.,. . 
April,.. 
May, . . 
June, . . 
July,.. 
Aug.,.. 
Sept.,.. 
Oct.,  .. 
Nov.,.. 
Dec,.  . 


IS 
s8 
23 
29 
31 
28 
26 
23 
27 
28 
»9 


170J 

220|' 
552* 
601 


287 


39  «« 

40  12} 
24 
20* 
29 
36 
23 
42 
54| 
28I 
28 

19* 

8241*  1357*  «9 


909 
roii^ 
600} 
963 
Z481 
804 
538 
390 


zzz 

63 

Z62 
144 

63 

157 

Z26 

207J 
17s 
70 


52 

92 

1 39 
146 
207 
283 
73 
330 
563 
393 
334 
236* 


>848« 


'7c4 

2v4 

KaS 

«o9S 
»57o 

>54i 
«9?7 
I36c4 
79ri 
699* 


131264 


Totals,.. 

"  The  mileage  for  the  firat  half  of  '85  gives  the  meager  total  of  1740,  made  up  by  z8  nzns  vader 
50  m.,  7  others  not  exceeding  94  m.,  and  7  over  the  century;  fresh  ground  oovered,  742  m.,  or 
34  P«r  cent.    My  longest  straightaway  sUy  in  the  saddle  was  Z3}  h.  (June  a8,  6  a.  m.  to  7.45 
p.  M.),  a  lowering  of  6}  h.  from  my  previous  besL     After  starting  from  home,  I  made  my  first  at- 
tempt at  riding  up  the  notorious  West  Hill  (Highgate),  and  having  conquered  this,  I  kept  on 
through  Epping  Green,  Hertford,  Caxton,   Ellington,  Thr^nton,  and  Kettering  to  HamU 
(Beds),  Z06  m.  without  a  dismount    I  afterwards  wheeled  enough  to  make  the  day's  total  \t,\ 
m.     My  zooth  m.  was  completed  at  the  '  second  danger-board  hill '  ascent  at  WoUaston ;  and  72} 
m.  had  never  been  ridden  by  me  before.    As  I  was  not  intending  sudi  a  feat  vriwn  I  started,  I 
carried  no  refreshment  whatever.     Alfred  Hayes*s  challenge  for  a  47  m.  ride  to  Bedford  «a 
what  inspired  me  to  keep  the  saddle,  after  once  getting  well  started;  and  my  dovng  the  106  a 
induced  him  in  turn  to  ride  70  m.  without  a  dismount.    The  Great  North  Road  is  certaiitly  tbe 
best  average  cycling  highway  in  England.     I  estimate  to  have  wheeled  2700  m.  on  it,  an  zna^ 
sis  of  the  number  of  my  visits  to  various  places  along  it  showing  as  follows :  zzq  times  to  Banet, 
tz  m.  from  home ;  43  to  Hatfield,  ao  m.;  6  to  Baldock,  37  m.;  (30  to  Hitchia,  34  m.);  18  to  Gin* 
ford,  48  m.;  8  to  Eaton-Socon,  55  m.;  zz  to  Alconbuiy  Hill,  68  m.;  a  to  Stamford  and  Granthaa, 
90  and  zzo  m.;  4  to  Newark,  za4  m.;  z  to  Tuxford  and  Doncaster,  Z38  and  163  m.     It  may  be 
observed  that  these  visits  seem  somewhat  erratic    E.g.^  I  've  turned  at  Stamford  only  half » 
many  times  as  at  Newark,  which  is  34  m.  beyond.     The  London  editor  of  the  Cycltst^  C  W. 
Nairn,  often  advises  tourists  for  Biggleswade  to  go  by  way  of  Httchin  (which  I  *ve  put  m  psitn* 
thesis,  to  show  that  it 's  o£F  the  road),  rather  than  by  way  of  Baldock,  which  is  0m  the  load.    Bid 
weather  accounts  in  part  for  decreased  mileage  of  '85,  and  a  bad  ^11  at  Easter  accooats  for  tbe 
rest  of  it     This  resulted  from  my  striking  a  lump  of  wood,  dropped  from  a  cart,  in  the  doA, 
while  bounding  do%vn  a  steep  hill,  in  the  Forest  of  Dean,  Gloucestershire.    For  days  1 
my  left  arm  was  bent  at  right  angles,  and  my  right  wrist  powerless  for  lifting  even  a  cnp,- 
nothing  of  a  strained  left  ankle,  a  thumb  crushed  open  up  to  the  nail,  and  a  bump  on  tbe  bad  of 
my  head.     I  had  a  serious  fall  also  in  Aug.,  '84,  in  front  of  the  Mansion  House,  dislocatnig  s? 
left  shoulder;  but  within  a  fortnight  afterwards,  I  entered  a  24  h.  competition,  and  rode  thefv. 
thest  (103  m.),  with  my  arm  vd  a  sling  and  through  a  pouring  rain, — two  friends  helping  ne  oo 
and  off  at  first.    The  bicycle  was  not  to  be  blamed  for  either  of  my  accidents,  and  it  proved  the 
beet  cure  for  both.     Perhaps  you  had  better  not  publish  anything  about  them,  lest  th^  be  Bide 
to  serve  wrongfully  as  texts  against  the  safety  of  cycling." 

Alfred  Hayes  (b.  Dec  9, 1851),  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Haverstock  C.  C,and  itsfi^tM^ 
retary,  has  a  9  years'  mileage  record  of  considerably  more  than  the  29,2  z6,  which  is  divided  thia: 
*77.  20001  »78,  2868;  *79i  2980;  •80,2855;  '8z,  2826;  »82,  3597;  '83,  5354:  '84,  435*;  "Hi^ 
Aug.  16),  2380.  The  monthly  analysix  of  his  best  year,  '83  (riding  days,  mileage  and  longest  ride), 
AS  as  f oUows :    Jan. ,  3  «,  2 1 5,  40 ;  Feb. ,  a8,  288,  57 ;  Mar. ,  3  z ,  557, 90 ;  Apr. ,  30, 487,  106 ;  May. 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  541 

31,  707,  xao;  June,  »$,  511,  156;  July,  8,  697, 173 ;  Aug.,  10,678, 140;  Sept.,  7,  4241  100;  Oct., 
7i  3«6,  90  i  Nov.,  8,  a  13,  50 ;  Dec.,  8,  261, 45-  Of  Uic  aa4  days,  5*  were  Sundays,  with  a  mile- 
age of  3691,  as  compared  to  the  1663  m.  ridden  on  the  other  17a  days.  On  7  consecutive  Sun- 
days, he  rode  907  m.,  as  shown  by  this  extract  from  the  £i.  Ntws  (Sept.  ax,  '83),  which  de- 
scribed  the  Aug.  5  trip  in  full :  "July  aa,  Peterborough  and  back,  164 ;  July  a9,  Market-Deep- 
ing  and  back,  174;  Aug.  5,  DunsUble,  Ware,  Bishop  Stortford  and  Colchester,  105;  Aug.  xa, 
St.  Neots  and  back,  104;  Aug.  19,  Biggleswade,  Cambridge,  and  Huntingdon ;  retimiing  through 
Buckden,  140;  Aug.  a6,  Bedford,  St.  Neots,  and  Caxton;  retumiug  through  Royston  and 
Ware,  lao ;  Sept.  a,  to  the  Rye  House,  thence  to  Hertford,  Stevenage,  Biggleswade,  and  Girt- 
ford ;  returning  through  Uitchin,  xcw."  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  size  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  tliis  by  an  Eclipse, 
in  '77*  that  I  began  to  keep  a  record.  My  riding,  that  year,  reached  just  aooo  m.,  and  was  re- 
corded in  the  first  of  the  bicycle  annuals  which  publislied  a  diary  of  such  things.  In  '8a  a  Lon- 
don maker  named  Pick  built  me  what  I  then  thought  a  beautiful  litde  bicycle ;  and  I  'm  now 
able  to  say  (Aug.  18,  '85),  after  about  xs,ooo  m.  of  experience  with  it,  that  it 's  the  best  one  I 
ever  had.  Though  I  was  bom  in  London,  my  parents  are  nadves  of  Lincolnshire ;  and  that 
fact  perliaiM  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  from  home)  may  be  noted  thus :  Bamet  (8^),  275 ;  Hatfield  (17),  151 ;  Welwyn  (aa), 
101 ;  Girtford,  41 ;  Tempsfoid,  as  ;  Eaton-Socon,  33  ;  Buckden,  39;  Alconbury  (63),  a8;  Nor- 
man's  Cross  (73),  x8 ;  Stamford  (86),  8 ;  Grantham,  x ;  Newark,  i.  I  've  thrice  done  the  73  m. 
to  Norman's  Crass,  inside  6  h.  50  min.;  and  some  of  my  other  long  rides  nuy  be  named  thus  : 
June  5,  '81,  Stamford,  86  m.  in  8  h.  50  min.;  July  a,  '8a,  Stamford  and  back  in  a3^  h.;  July  16, 
'8a,  Peterborough,  78  m,  in  7^  h.;  and  July  39,  '83,  Market-Deeping  and  back,  176  m.  in  33  h. 
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.  x8),  150  m.  During  these  two  years 
I  've  made  40  trips  to  Hitchin  (31  m.  out),  and  19  tripe  to  Bedford  (47  m.).  My  business  is 
that  of  leather-seller,  which  I  manage  single  handed ;  but  on  Thursdays  I  shut  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  carts, 
I  've  ridden  every  Sunday  since  Apr.  30,  '82."    (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  mileage  were  much  or  little, 
suiq>lied  the  following  report,  July  ao,  '85 :  *'  It  must  be  remembered  that  these  figiu-es  are 
only  those  of  an  ordinary  rider,  and  the  presentation  of  such  particulars  in  minute,  analytical 
form  is  made  merely  to  meet  your  requirements  for  complete  information  about  a  fairly  repre- 
sentative record  of  an  average  Englishman  who  wheels  aooo  m.  a  year.  I  began  in  May,  '77, 
without  any  preliminary  experience  on  the  bone-shaker,  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 bicycling  'for  a  season,'  owing  to  illness  (brought  on,  in  a  large  measure,  it  is  feared,  by  a 
somewhat  injudicious  indulgence  in  the  fascinating  but  slightly  treacherous  pastime);  and 
though  the  medical  veto  has  since  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  330  m.  have  been  covered  by 
tricycle,  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  '77-'78,  when  unattached  to  any  club;  3700  m.  in  attend- 
ing the  r^ular  club  runs  of  the  Belsize  B.  C.  on  Saturday  afternoons,  and  nearly  xooo  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  x6  rides  of  xoo  m.  or  over  in  a  day  of 
34 h.,  thus  :  '79,  xio;  '8x,  105  ;  '83,  xoo,  X04,  107,  1x3, 139, 130,  150;  '83,  xoo,  xoi,  103,  X04,  107, 
108,  X13.    It  may  be  observed  of  my  longest  day's  ride  (150  m.),  that  it  was  part  of  a  continuous 


542  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ride  of  189  m.,  of  which  the  other  39  m.  were  ridden  before  the  day  began.    On  this  oocaaion,  I 
made  my  longest  stay  in  the  saddle  vrathout  a  dismount,  4S  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  yjMvn.'g 
-from  797  to  52a  m.  were  made  in  8  other  mos.,  between  '8z  and  '83.     I  hare  made  three  ex> 
tended  tours  oat  of  Engbind.     In  *8z,  nearly  3  weeks  in  Normandy  and  Brittany,  witb   H. 
Blackwell,  of  the  Canonbury  B.  C,  when  a  total  distance  of  696  m.  was  covered.     lo  *82,  2 
weeks  in  Normandy,  Brittany  and  the  Valley  of  the  Loire,  with  W.  E.  Milner  abd  H.  C  MTild, 
fellow  clubmen,  when  a  total  distance  of  574  m.  was  covered.     In  '83,  nearly  3  weeks  in  Swztaer- 
land,  also  with  fellow  clubmen,  W.  E.  Milner,  E.  Tegetmeier  and  R.  Revell,  when  a  total  dis- 
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  oa  dob 
tours  already  mentioned)  has  been  3390  m.     Adding  dub  tours  and  tours  abroad,  we  arrive  at  a 
total  of  6060  m.  traveled  in  this  way.     Hence  the  following  approximate  statement :     Mxle^e 
in  touring,  6060 ;  as  an  unatuched  rider,  880 ;  in  attending  Belsize  B.  C.  runs,  3700;  in  private 
runs,  6430.    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,  nose 
than  11,850  m.,  including  the  three  tours  abroad.    The  distances  here  given  have  been  cajciiJy 
measured  on  various  maps,  in  most  cases  the  Ordnance  Survey  maps  of  England  (as  well  as 
those  of  France  and  Switxerland  for  the  riding  done  in  those  countries),  and  in  many  cases 
the  distances  have  also  been  checked  from  the  standard  road  books  of  Cary,  Patereon  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 :    x4:2>S>  <6,  50;  28:590,  21,  63 ;  48:1280,  27,  no;  43:1376, 
a9i  77;  94:3«90,  34»  lOSi    1094610,  421  150;    95:4056,  43»  "St   a7773»  *%  T©-      Grand  total, 
458:16,000,  35,  ijo. 


Vcar. 

Jan.  Feb. 

Mar.      Apr. 

May. 

June. 

July. 

Aug. 

Sept. 

Oct. 

Nov. 

Dec 

'77. 





2:15 

342 

5:76 

.... 

3:73 

1:15 

1:6 

.... 

'78. 

1:5     .... 

7:"5    4:68 

3:162 

3:30 

5:'«4 

aa3 

4:73 

.... 

.... 

.... 

'79. 



1:5        3:63 

8:298 

6:117 

9.-67 

7:222 

3:"3 

6:241 

5-»54 

.... 

'80. 

7:270    7:97 

6:230 

7:245 

6:212 

7:156 

i»o 

2:46 

.... 

.... 

♦81. 



3:40    11:194 

16:522 

10:331 

14:567 

19*72 

9:326 

8:255 

3HO 

«:43 

'82. 

....    1:17 

9:279  13:690 

17:763 

9:402 

13:715 

23:864 

JIH74 

6:167 

4:150 

4«9 

'83. 

6:104  10:407 

8:340 

»5797 

12  .-653 

11:654 

13:450 

9:34a 

7:185 

4:1x4 

*84. 

3:57  6:210 

6:170    3:63 

6:148 

3:«5 

.... 

.... 

.... 

.... 

.... 

4:62  7:227  39:983  5«s«58a  66^476  5522089  64:3404  683791  43:1529  32:1066  3o:s35  9»5^ 
The  five  principal  scores  made  in  '83  by  members  of  his  club  were  tabulated  for  the  Si. 
News\yy  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  23  runs, 
thus:  100,  X04,  112,  126,  102,  T02,  154,  115, 122,  105,  100,  103,  lox,  107,  103,  102,  103,  loj,  roo, 
to2,  102,  105;  W.  E.  Milner,  5548,  of  which  1434  was  in  13  nms:  130,  125,  1x4,  iti,  no,  no, 
109,  108,  loS,  X03,  102,  102,  102 ;  Roland  Revell,  4063,  of  which  533  was  in  5  runs :  108,  no, 
102,  lot,  102 ;  J.  Milner,  4033,  including  i  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  avenge  of 
65}  m.,  as  compared  with  2194  m.  on  the  other  89  days.  The  only  Sunday  when  he  did  no 
wheeling  was  while  riding  tviih  his  bicycle  towards  Switzerland ;  and  his  machine  came  to  grief 
on  each  of  the  two  Sundays  when  his  score  was  less  than  a6  m.  His  13  best  scores  have  already 
been  given  ;  and  the  remaining  48  Sunday  rides,  in  the  order  of  their  mileage,  were  as  f<^1ows : 
86,  82,  76,  75,  74,  70,  70,  68,  60,  60,  59,  57,  57,  56,  55,  54,  53,  50,  50,  50, 49.  48,  45.  45.  43.  4i.  ¥h 
40,  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,  396,  74;  June, 
339.84;  July,  387.  77  •.  Aug.,  406,  101;   Sept.,  330,  55;  Oct.,  336,56;   Nov.,  193,48;   I>«c, 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  543 

170,  34.  Thoiish  J.  Milner's  longest  •cores  were  xfs  and  84  in.,  his  riding  was  confined  to  93 
dsys,  and  so  made  the  high  average  of  43  «>•>  or  only  1  m.  less  than  £.  Tegetmeier's.  Roland 
Revell's  116  rides  averaged  35  m.  each,  though  he  did  no  wheelmg  in  Jan.  and  Feb.  and  only 
94  m.  in  Nov.  The  mfleage  of  the  5  men  daring  the  \  year,  Apr.  to  Sept.,  may  be  thus  com- 
pared :  Tegetroder,  5769 ;  W.  E.  Milner,  3720;  Roberts,  3301 ;  Revel],  3064 ;  J.  Milner,  1431. 
TTie  3691  ro.  ridden  by  A.  Hayes  on  52  Sundays  of  »83  (p.  541)  may  be  compared  with  the 
S354  m.  of  W.  E.  Milner ;  and  with  both  may  be  compared  the  3770  m.  done  in  '83  on  a  50  in. 
fricyde  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  ran  of  106  m.,  and  his  116  rides  repre- 
sented all  the  months,  the  mileage  of  the  la  standing  thus :  ai,  73,  asa,  4351  37a>  309>  39o»  45if 
a»7,  6a,aa8»  40^  Another  wm-Sunday  rider  is  J.  S.  Warburton,  of  the  Surrey  United  B.  C, 
whose  x6o  rides  ol  '83^  averaging  aa*  m.  (longest,  iox|  m.),  were  taken  on  a  53  in-  Ruckcr,  and 
made  a  total  mileage  of  3603,  distributed  tbnMigh  the  months  as  follows  1  9,  37, 392^387, 491}, 
4361,  544,  773^,  341,  aos,  114I,  18a.  J.  Rowe,  of  the  Centaur  B.  C,  also  rode  every  month  of 
'S3  (a79  days),  doing  i4a5  m.  on  the  bl,  and  375$  m.  on  the  trL  (single  and  sociable),  a  total  of 
4180  m.  His  wife  acoMnpanied  him  on  the  sociable  lor  1 149  ».  of  this,--«everal  times  exceed. 
iqg  jom.,  and  once  riding  as  much  as  67  m.  His  own  longest  run  was  104  m.  in  May,  in  which 
BMmth  he  rode  367  m.  00  the  U.  and  359  m.  on  the  tri.  In  Aag.  his  tricycling  amouxrted  to 
777  m.  (best  run,  57  m.),  and  he  only  made  4  m.  on  the  bi 

The  captain  of  the  North  London  T.  C,  Henry  T.  Wharlow  (b.  Aug.  37,  1843),  ^  ^' 
oountant,  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  <ook  to  wheeling  in  earnest,  and 
my  annual  mileage  totals  have  gradually  increased  since  then,  thus :  680,  sojo,  3305, 4162,  4311, 
5915,  and  (in  '85  to  Jmse  30)  3003,  making  33,335  m.  for  6|  yeaia.  I  've  not  taken  many  single 
rides  in  excess  of  100  m.,— my  3  longest  being  140  in  '83, 151  in  '84  and  1 15  in  '8$.  The  machines 
principally  ridden  have  been  Coventry  Rotary  and  Hnmber."  From  tables  in  the  Trkyciigi,  I 
append  his  monthly  mileage  for  two  years,  remarking  that  his  178  riding  days  of  '83  averaged  34 
m.  eadi,  and  369  days  of  '84  aiveraged  33  m.  each  :  Jan.,  xxi,  301 ;  Feb.,  115,  306;  Mar,  467, 
497;  Apr.,  556,  536;  May,  637,  533  ;  June,  45a>  444 ;  July,  5 A  S4t;  Aug.,  332,  557;  Sept.,  326, 
735 ;  Oct.,  338, 613  ;  Nov.,  xoo,  53$ ;  Dec,  41  r,  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  10  mos. 
of  '84,  giving  riding  days,  miles  and  furlongs :  Mar.,  30,  516.4;  Apr.,  36,  743.7;  May,  38, 
664.1;  June,  30,  633.1;  July,  39^  698.7;  Ac^.,  38,  507.5;  Sept.,  39,  834.0;  Oct.,  35,  615.6; 
Nov.,  35,  420.3;  Dec,  31,  397.3.  His  longest  runs  were  loi  m.  in  Apr.  and  103  in  Sept.  It 
will  be  seen  that  the  371  rides  amounted  to  6030^  m.,  an  average  of  33}  m.  His  record 'for  '83 
was  3560I  m.,  and  for  '85,  6454  m.,  of  which  4033  m.  were  ridden  in  the  last  \.  The  approxi- 
mate milei^ie  of  his  first  year,  '83,  was  iooo,--making  a  total  of  17,043  m.  Longest  day's  run, 
160  n.  In  sending  me  these  facts,  "  Faed,"  another  member  of  the  club  (see  p.  534),  adds  : 
*'  He  has  ridden  distances  of  at  least  to  m.  each  on  50  different  makes  of  cycles,  but  principally 
on  the  Coventry  Rotary,  Homber,  and  Dearlove  tricycles."  Contrasted  with  this  is  the  report 
of  Walter  Binns  (b.  Jan.  31,  i845)»  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  nearly  13,000  m.,~my  total  mileage  being  32,147,  divided  thus  :  '79,  3447 »  **>,  3407 ; 
'8t,  a84o;  *83,  4437 »  ^3»  4»95 ;  '84,  3733  ;  '85  (up  to  May  6),  989.  I  *m  sorry  that  I  never  kept 
a  reoord  before  '79,  for  I  've  ridden  constantly  since  the  earliest  days  of  the  bone-shaker.  I  see 
Irani  a  diary  ol  '69  that  I  was  riding  then ;  and  I  do  not  know  how  much  earlier.  As  my  work- 
ing hours  are  very  long,  f  use  the  bicyde  almost  entirely  in  going  to  and  from  business,  except 
that  I  take  my  annual  holidays  with  it,  and  Sunday  spins  through  Lancashire  and  Cheshire,  f 
suppose  I  'm  getting  to  be  rather  an  elderly  bicycler  as  well  as  bachelor ;  but  I  mean  to  stick  to 
the  twO'Wheeleras  long  as  I  can  get  on  the  top  of  one.    I  believe  in  rake,  rubber  and  spring." 

"A  monument  of  the  highest  valne  to  the  practical  uses  of  the  wheel  sport  "  was  the  edito- 
rial remark  attached  to  the  following  Ubie  in  the  TrieycliH  (early  in  '84,  p.  397),  prepared  by 
the  Rev.  H.  C.  Courtney,  Vicar  of  Ha&ton,  to  eidiibit  his  14  years'  riding.    "  I  do  not  suppose 


546  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

British  Challenge  wheel  ttood  well,  only  having  the  tire  worn,  and  a  sli^t  aadc  in  a  crank,  got 
from  going  up  the  fearful  hills  of  the  Jura  country.  Riding  17  full  days  1 100  m.  wooJd  give  65  n. 
daily  average,  but  70  m.  is  nearer  truth,  as  on  several  days  I  stopped  many  houc«  to  visic  iBlev- 
esting  qpots,  while  on  most  1  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  laige  hotels  frequented  by  tourists,  and  am  well  suited  with  a  dean  bed  in  some  Ihde  kxlgiag 
house."  The  average  cost  of  this  is  shown  to  be  less  than  30  c.  O5.50  for  the  19  nightsX  and 
the  whole  cost  of  23  days'  absence  from  Glasgow  was  $41,  whereof  1I13  went  Uu  tras^Mr^tioa. 
"  If  you  are  surprised  at  such  economy,  let  me  say  that  when  only  twenty  years  cHA.  I  took  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,  20  m.  e.  of  Cork,  and  a  consul  of  the  C.  T.  C.  Hia  report  to  ine 
(July  9,  '85)  reads  thus  :  '*  Having  kept  an  acctuate  diary  of  my  bicycle  riding  from  the  ooiser, 
I  can  show  yon  a  total  mileage  of  13,202,  divided  by  years  as  follows:  '75,  342;  ^76,  1S47; 
'77,988;  '78.  »965;  '79.  871  •  '80,  1 121;  *8i,  1124;  *82,  1644;  '83,  1475;  '«4,  1560;  »85  (up  to 
July  9),  865.  You  may  rely  on  the  distances  being  as  accurate  as  it  is  possible  to  make  diens. 
Up  to  the  spring  of  '83  I  took  them  from  large-scale  maps,  road  books  and  m.  stones,  and  a»ce 
then  I  have  been  using  Stanton's  bi.  log,  which  I  always  found  correct  when  compared  with  bl 
stones  and  Ordnance  Survey  maps.  As  I  cannot  use  a  hub  lamp  with  it,  I  have  lately  gor  a 
King-of-the-Road  lamp,  with  Hemu's  cyclom.  attached,  and  I  find  this  perfectly  aocwate.  I 
am  sure  you  will  have  difficulty  in  getting  hold  of  another  Irish  bicyclist  who  has  been  rklmg  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,  Kinamey,  19a 
m.  and  Co.  Limerick,  178  m.;  '82,  England,  325  m.;  '83,  Scotland,  4x7  m.;  '84,  Connenanand 
western  highlands  of  Ireland,  488  m.  My  average  rate  of  traveling  on  toun  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  Jane  13, 
'77» — ^^  »^'  Ariel  (Haynes  &  Jeffries,  Coventry),  2083  ;  July'  20,  '77,  to  Sept.  25,  '78, — 50  ia- 
Stanley  Head  Excelsior  (Bayliss  &  Thomas,  Coventry),  2287  ;  Oct.  2,  '78,  to  July  5,  '79, — 5418. 
Duplex  Excelsior  (Bayliss&  Thomas),  663  :  Sept.  29,  '79,  to  Feb.  26, '81, — 53  in.  PerfeclioB 
(Gorton,  Wolverhampton),  1562;  May  28,  '81,  to  March  14,  '85,-52  in.  Interchangeable  (ftl> 
mer  &  Co.,  Birmingham),  5837;  April  6,  to  July 9,  '85,-52  in.  D.  £.  H.  F.  (Bayliss ft  Thonasli, 
865.  My  longest  distance  ridden  in  a  month  (Aug.,  '83)  was  54a  m.  Longest  in  a  wedc  (Aqg. 
22  to  28,  '84),  resting  on  Sunday  and  riding  only  6  days,  315  m.  Longest  in  6  successive  days, 
Monday  to  Saturday  (Aug.  6  to  1 1,  '83),  22 1  m.  My  longest  in  a  day  was  85  m.  (Sept.  9,  '78), 
when  I  went  from  Springfield  to  Nenagh,  in  Co.  Tipperary,  via  Lismore,  Cahir,  Osbei,  Holy> 
cross  and  Borrisoleigh.  On  this  ride  I  took  photographs  on  the  way,  carrying  the  apparatus  in 
knapsack,  as  well  as  a  large  m.  i.  p.  bag  filled  with  clothes.  My  longest  recorded  straightaway 
vrithout  dismount  was  18  m.,  but  I  may  have  ridden  further,  without  being  aware  of  it,  on  other 
occasions."  Post  cards  of  Sept.  2  and  Nov.  23  report  additional  mileage  of  968^(raisms  the 
•85  record  to  1833^  and  the  total,  for  a  trifle  more  than  10  years,  to  i4>i7oi)>  "><*  I  <!«>««  *««■ 
them  these  final  dettils.  "  Leaving  Springfield  on  the  13th  of  Aug.,  I  wheeled  to  Wacerlocd, 
and  took  steamer  across  to  Milford,  in  Wales.  I  rode  through  South  Wales,  the  midland  ocam- 
tics  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.  29,  a  tour  of  7x2  m.  I  rode  every  day  except  the 
a  Sunda>'s,  so  that  the  daily  average  was  47^  ™«  My  longest  ride  without  dismount  was  fma 
Waterford  to  Dungarvan,  28  m.  I  also  rode  287  m.  between  Aug.  xy  and  aa,— which  was  66  m. 
more  than  my  best  previoxis  record  for  6  days.  My  total  mileage  for  Aug.  was  765,— <r  233  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 J  m.  T  never  do  1 
wheeling  in  the  cold  weather,  but  hope  to  begin  again  next  spring." 

•'The  name  of  Harry  Etherington  (b.  Aur.  27,  1855)  is  one  known,  and  creditably  I 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS,  547 

to  every  reader  of  the  bicycliog  preaa  in  the  United  Kingdom,  and  he  is  penooally  known  to 
P*w^»ap<i  more  biqpclists  than  any  other  rider."  Thus  spoke  the  BL  Times,  8  years  ago  (Jan.  lo, 
'78),  in  presenting  his  photograph  and  biography  on  its  title  page ;  and  it  is  safe  to  add  that  no 
other  Elnglish  wheelman's  name  is  now  so  feuniliariy  known  in  the  United  Sutes  also.  As  the 
suooeesful  organizer  ot  the  first  cycling  "  event "  of  magnitude  enough  to  attract  much  notice 
in  the  general  press  of  America  (namely,  the  6  days'  race  at  Agricultural  Hall,  London,  in  Sept., 
'79,  when  Waller  made  the  wonderful  run  of  1404  m.  in  107  h.),  he  was  inspired  to  sail  for  this 
country,  Oct.  3,  '79,  as  manager  of  the  professional  team,  Keen,  Terront,  Cann  and  Stanton ; 
anci  though  this  exhibition-tour  proved  a  feulure,  financially  (for  there  were  not  then  1000  bicy- 
clers in  the  whole  Western  hemisphere),  the  remembrance  or  tradition  of  it  helped  increase  the 
heartiness  of  the  welcome  extended  him  on  his  second  visit,  in  '85,  when  he  brought  over  that 
temarkahiy  fleet  band  of  "  makers'  amateurs  "  who  swept  off  the  prises  at  the  Sept.  tourna- 
ment of  the  Springfield  B.  C,  and  "  lowered  the  world's  records  "  in  respect  to  many  distances. 
In  order  to  give  a  thoroughly  friendly  cast  to  the  notoriety  thus  secured  by  him  in  Yankeeland, 
only  one  thing  was  needed ;  and  that  one  want  was  supplied  by  the  curiously  short-sighted 
policy  which  a  rival  editor  adoptedj  for  the  apparent  purpose  of  bringing  him  to  discredit. 
As  H.  £.'s  sagacity,  in  identifying  himself  with  a  lot  of  English  racers  who  had  given  a  won- 
derfully good  account  of  themselves  in  the  *'  Greater  Britain  "  of  the  West,  could  only  be  be- 
littled by  a  denial  of  accomplished  facts,  this  rival,  the  editor  of  the  Tricyclist,  seriously  pro- 
claimed the  theory  (through  the  papers  of  "  the  Coventry  ring  ")  that  their  records  ought  not  lo 
be  accepted  as  authentic  1  Inasmuch,  however,  as  the  official  precautions  to  prevent  errors  in 
timing  were  more  perfect  than  at  any  bicycle  races  ever  anywhere  previously  run,  and  as  not 
one  of  the  many  hundreds  <rf  watch-holders  among  the  thousands  who  witnessed  the  races  vent- 
ured to  questioa  their  recorded  swif  tness,-~though  many  a  one  of  them  had  the  strongest  pos- 
sible motive  for  raiaii^  the  question,  if  any  shadow  of  doubt  existed  in  the  case,— the  most  ob- 
trusive practical  result  of  the  rival  editor's  act  (whether  he  was  led  into  it  by  envy,  or  by  spite, 
or  by  insular  ignorance,  or  by  mere  fatuity)  was  the  erection  of  a  sort  of  "  international  "  ped- 
estal, on  which  Mr.  Etherington  can  pose  very  effectively  as  the  representative  defender  of 
American  good-faith  and  English  prowess.  The  most  lavish  expenditure  of  money  could 
never  have  secured  for  his  weekly  paper,  1Vkt«lm£,  so  valuable  an  advertisement  throughout 
the  United  States,  as  this  unaccountable  determination  of  his  rivals  to  discredit  their  own 
papers'  reputations  here,  by  pretending  to  question  the  honesty  and  executive  competency  of 
the  League  of*  American  Wheelmen.  Fortunate  thus,  like  the  chief  magistrate  of  this 
Union,  in  **  the  enemies  he  has  made,"  the  story  of  his  good-luck  in  other  respects  will  pre- 
sumably be  of  interest  to  the  readers  of  this  book,  which  he  has  been  instrumental  in  giving 
a  foothold  to  in  England,  and  I  therefore  present  these  additional  extracu  from  the  before- 
■sentioned  article  in  the  BL  TimtM  : 

"A  native  of  Sittingboume,  in  Kent,  he  began  to  ride  the  bone-shaker  in  '68,  while  at 
Melton  Mowbray,  in  Leicestershire,  and  continued  an  enthusiastic  wobbler  through  '69,  '70 
and  '71,  after  which  he  gave  his  bones  a  4  years'  rest.  Learning  the  bicycle  Mar.  la,  '75, 
he  took  a  trip  of  87  m.  just  a  fortnight  later  (Good  Friday),  on  a  50  in.  Ariel,  which  he  soon 
superseded  by  a  54  in.  Keen,  and  then  by  a  57  in.  Eclipse,  on  which  all  his  journeys  were 
made  till  the  end  of  '77.  He  joined  the  Surrey  B.  C,  in  '75,  and  was  8th  in  the  list  of  found- 
ers of  the  Temple  B.  C.  (Jan.  a6,  '76),  quickly  becoming  iu  secreUry  and  serving  to  his  own 
credit  and  the  club's  advantage.  Though  entering  many  races,  the  prise  for  third  place  in  the 
I  m.  race  of  his  club  (June,  '77)  was  the  only  trophy  he  ever  captured ;  but,  as  a  tourist,  he  has 
ridden  through  North  Wales,  Derbyshire,  Yorkshire  and  Nottingham ;  and,  in  fact,  every  En- 
glish  county  except  Cornwall  and  Northumberland.  His  tongest  day's  ride  (May,  '77),  in  com- 
pany with  Mr.  Meyer,  the  Temple  B.  C.  champion,  was  from  Ockham  to  Portsmouth,  Brighton 
and  London,  156  m.  in  17I  h.  This  was  the  day  after  the  Hampton  Court  meet,  and  on  the 
corresponding  day  in  '76  he  made  iza  m.,  riding  throughout  the  moon-light  night.  He  has 
never  had  a  fall  from  his  57  in.  wheel,  though  he  has  ridden  it  7000  ro.  He  conceived,  ar* 
ranged,  and  successfully  carried  out  the  Temple  Easter  tour,  in  which  130  riders  took  part ;  and 


543  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

the  idea  and  labor  of  collecting  and  acknowledging  the  '  Bicydiata'  Indian  Famine  Fond* 
(;Ci39)  were  also  his';  while  another  proof  of  his  business  aptitude  was  shown  in  the  r"*^"*' 
carrying  out  of  last  June's  Temple  races,  in  spite  of  7a  entries,  and  in  the  achievement  (per- 
haps the  first  time  on  record  in  such  an  affair)  of  a  finandal  success.  The  dub  testified  tbdr 
appreciation  by  presenting  hi^i  with  a  handsome  watch  and  chain  (valued  at  J^yj^^  at  their  le* 
cent  annual  dinner,  when  he  announced  his  retirement  from  active  bicydii^  affairs,  to 
his  own  account  into  commerdal  life."  Re|>eated  requests  from  me  caused  him  to  ] 
(Mar.  ID,  '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  mudi  as  sopplied 
me  with  the  BL  Times  sketch,  accompanying  which  were  a  few  written  detaDs  whidi  I  no* 
quote  !  "  In  these  days,  my  riding  is  prindpally  on  a  Humber  tandem  with  my  «rife,  though  I 
sometimes  take  to  the  road  on  a  bike  with  the  boys.  The  sportsman's  exhibition,  annoally  hdd 
in  Agricultural  Hall,  was  my  idea  and  has  been  managed  for  four  years  as  an  acceptable  feature 
of  the  spring  season.  It  was  in  *8o  that  I  sUrted  the  iVheel  Worlds  with  G.  Lacy  HiDier;  cas 
it  with  great  success  for  18  mos.,  then  sold  it  well  to  Iliffe  &  Son,  and  contracted  an  agreemeitt 
to  publish  it  and  the  Cyclist  at  their  offices,  15a  Fleet  St.,  for  the  London  district.  I  did  weObf 
both  journals,  but  in  May,  '84,  dissolved  all  connection  with  the  Iliffes,  and  started  the  weekly. 
Wheelings  with  W.  Mac  William.  He  withdrew,  on  friendly  terms,  in  Oct.,  and  I  no  the  paper 
alone  till  Jan.  i,  '85,  when  I.  secured,  as  joint  editor,  Tom  Moore,  of  the  BL  AVow.'*  A  year 
later,  another  important  change  was  made,-— the  editorship  being  entrusted  to  W.  McCandfish 
and  F.  Percy  Low,  in  order  that  the  proprietor  might  devote  all  his  energy  to  its  buaneBS  nter- 
ests, — the  weekly  circulation  being  now  advertised  as  10,000  copies. 

"The  best  advertising  medium  is  the  Cyclist  with  a  drculation  of  xn^t  30,000  copies  per 
month,  or  more  than  3  times  that  of  any  other  wheel  publication."  Such  is  the  statement  dk 
the  latest  letter-head  coming  to  me  (Dec. ,  '85)  from  the  Coventry  office  of  that  old-established 
weekly  journal,  whose  sub-title  is  "  bicycling  and  tricyding  trades'  review,"  and  whose  driel 
appeal  for  support,  if  I  rightly  interpret  its  ideal,  is  addressed  to  the  heavy-respectable  denaii, 
— the  more  solid  (not  to  say  stolid)  section  of  the  English  cyding  fraternity.  As  may  be  mcb 
by  consulting  my  final  chapter,  "  Literature  of  the  Wheel,"  its  editor,  Henry  Sturmcy  (K  Fdx 
98),  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  pnclical 
mechanics  of  wheeling.  It  pleases  me,  therefore,  to  learn  that  his  thoroughgoing  expericoee 
with  all  sorts  and  sizes  of  cycles  has  brought  him  to  the  same  condusion  which!  myself  (know- 
ing nothing  and  caring  nothing  about  the  relative  mechanical  advantages  of  different  makes) 
reached  by  simply  buying  a  46  in.  bicyde  and  pushing  it  10,000  m.  He  thinks,  as  I  do,  that 
the  only  appredable  element  of  danger  in  the  case  arises  from  the  vanity  of  mankind,  in  refos- 
ing  to  seek*comfort  and  security  on  an  ordinary  bicycle  "  which  is  three  or  four  inches  vndff- 
size."  Instead  of  this,  they  are  "continually  clamoring  for  dose-build  and  hifrh-podtkxi,  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  hariog 
been  built  too  generally  on  pretty  but  unsafe  lines."  My  quotation  is  from  his  stmimiqg  np 
(Oct.,  '85)  of  a  long  discussion,  carried  on  by  correspondents  of  the  Cyclist ^  as  to  the  oompan- 
tive  advantages  of  the  different  types  of  cycles;  and  I  condense  his  final  words  thus  :  ** There 
is  no  single  form  of  cycle  that  will  suit  the  wants  of  every  one,  but  each  particular  type  »  tic 
right  thing  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.  Bui 
it  is  heavy  and  cumbersome  and  slow,  compared  with  its  confriresy  and  is  not  by  aify  meam  » 
free  from  danger  as  some  would  make  it,  though  with  care  it  is  as  safe  as  a  hoi«e  and  tnp,  sad 
probably  safer.  The  speed  that  has  been  obtained  on  the  road  by  noted  tri.  riders  has  in  loae 
cases  surpassed  that  of  riders  on  the  bi.,  but  such  riders  in  all  cases  have  been  exceptional  ones, 
with  machines  highly  geared  and  very  different  in  weight  from  those  supplied  to  the  otdiBtfy 
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  «  crowded  street,  or 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


549 


ftwwmgfat  instantly  to  a  dead  atop.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  majority  of  geared-up  machines, 
tfae  8ide>slip  on  greasy  roads  introduces  an  element  of  danger  that  is  totally  absent  from  the  tri. 
and  ordinary  bl.  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, 
«t  will  never  be  wrested  from  popular  favor." 

Of  couzse,  whoever  attempts  to  deliver  an  opinion  as  an  expert  on  a  subject  where  so  many 
•competing  busines»>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 
Aever  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  hi.  which  has  incomparably  the 
vridest  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  paragraphs  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 
of  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 
liave  ridden  10,000  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  too  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  lai^est  number  of  separate  m.  of  roadway  covered  by 
any  individual  rider,  neither  can  I  say  who  has  ridden  the  longest  straightavtray  distances  in 
Great  Briuin,  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 
lias  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  Kttle  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  24,000  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 
4iave  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.  B.'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 
bave  ridden  about  11  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 
porta  of  England  and  a  portion  of  Scotland,  I  have  traveled  by  bicycle  in  France,  Germany, 
Holland,  Belgium,  SwitMrland,  Spain,  Italy,  Norway  and  Sweden.  I  send  herewith  a  copy  of 
*  Over  the  Pyrenees  :  a  bicyclist's  adventures  among  the  Spaniards,'  which  was  issued  some  time 
«noe  and  sold  well.  I  have  also  published,  as  a  weekly  supplement  to  the  ^/.  A^traw,  'The 
Rodcy  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 
Home,  or  three  weeks  among  the  Italians.'  "    Not  unlike  the  foregoing  for  indefiniteness,  was 


550  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  report  sent  me  Ksxg,  24,  *8s,  by  Charles  Howard  (b.  Dec.,  1851),  whom  I  natunOy  expected, 
as  the  author  of  a  standard  statistical  work  on  English  roads,  to  be  poaaesaed  of  an  elaborate 
wheeling  biography,  ready  at  hand  :  "  Strange  as  you  may  think  it,  I  've  never  kept  as  aaxnK 
of  my  riding,  which  began  about  V3«  '  presume  it  would  average  about  aooo  m.  a  year, — say  a 
total  of  aa,coo) — ^but  I  should  not  put  my  separate  roadway  as  more  than  6000  m.,  or  even  jooo 
m.  My  brother  Alfred  has  a  laiger  separate  mileage  than  mine.  I  know  a  good  portion  of 
the  roads  in  the  midland  counties  as  far  as  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire,  and  the  western  and 
Routhwestem  as  far  as  Wilts  and  Dorset.  Surrey  I  know  well,  both  main  roaids  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  out-of-the-way  comers,— never  being  deterred  by  a  bit  of  bad  road, 
nece^tating  the  use  of  shanks*s  pony.  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  booe-chaker  in  '69  er 
Vo,  and  remember  I  was  ambitious  to  have  one,  for  the  purpose  of  riding  to  and  from  acfaool 
(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  En^and  and 
Wales  *  was  published  in  '82,  ist  ed.  in  June  at  35.  6d.;  ad  ed.  in  Aug.  at  5s.,  which  has  bees 
the  price  ever  since,  except  that  with  map  it  is  6ft.  Third  ed.  appeared  in  May,  ^83,  and  4th 
ed.  in  May,  '84.  The  pages  have  remained  the  same  in  number  (423),  although  aoi 
ble  corrections  have  been  introduced.  Part  I.  of  'The  Route  Book'  was  published  \ 
April,  '8$.  It  comprises  southern  England  (south  of  London  and  Bristol)  and  sells  at  ta.  The 
other  two  parts  will  be  ready  early  in '86.  Part  II.  shows  middle  England  and  Wales,  and 
Part  III.  northern  England.  1  am  now  engaged  in  writing  and  passing  thrmq^  the  pnsa  a 
'Cyclist's  Itinerary  of  Scotland,'  which  will  be  published  at  is.  and  contain  about  aoo  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  Rojal 
Courts  Chambers,  70,  71  and  72  Chancery  Lane,  thus  reports  to  me,  Sept.  16,  '85  :  "  I  was 
elected  a  graduate  of  the  Institution  of  Mechanical  Engineera  in  '79  and  a  member  of  the  s^k 
in  '82.  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  1000  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  spedal 
study,  and  am  now  considered  a  leading  authority  on  these  mattera.  My  first  woric  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  'llie  Bicydist's  Guide  k> 
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  publicatioo  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.  I^t  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  onie  else  enterprising  enough  to  undertake  them.  At  present, 
I  am  preparing  for  the  press  a  'Complete  Abridgment  of  all  Specifications  relating  to  Vekxi- 
pedes,'  from  the  earliest  enrolled  to  the  end  of  '83.  This  will  be  completely  indesed,  and  will 
prove  invaluable  to  all  connected  with  the  trade.  Besides,  I  have  written  and  read  a  paper  be- 
fore the  Institution  of  Mechanical  Engineen  on  '  llie  Construction  of  Modem  Cydes,'  wfaidi 
has  been  immounoed  to  be  a  most  exhaustive  artide.  I  have  invented  and  patented  seveial  in- 
provements  in  cydes,  which  are  latgely  used  in  this  country,  such  as  the  combination  rubber  and 
rat-trap  pedal,  the  long  centered  Stanley  head,  the  safety  grip  pedal,  the  present  method  of  sas- 
pending  hub  lamps  on  self-contained  bearings,  the  combination  bell,  and  the  handy  litsPV^ 
carrier.  I  have  been  a  member  of  the  C.  T.  C.  and  of  the  N.  C.  U.  from  their  early 
dates  and  sit  on  the  coundl  of  each."  A  November  drcular  from  Ili£Fe  &  Son  explains  that 
they  are  to  publish  Mr.  P.'s  book  on  patents  as  soon  as  roo  subscriptions  are  enrolled  at  £%  is; 
that  the  price  will  afterwards  be  advanced,  and  that  "  no  advertisements  will  be  admitted  toiL" 

Geo.  Soudon  Bridgman  (b.  Feb.  14,  1839),  architect  and  surveyor  at  Paignton,  writes  tone. 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS, 


55^ 


Sept.  6,  ^85  :  "  I  am  one  of  the  very  earliest  riders  here,  having  imported  a  bone-shaker  from 
Paris,  15  or  16  yean  since,  and  I  hope  to  ride  the  bi.,  if  all  goes  well,  until  I  am  50  at  least. 
LAst  year,  1  took  a  900  m.  tour  on  this  little  island ;  and  last  month  I  again  ivent  off  some 
hundred  m.,  on  a  tandem,  with  my  son ;  and  the  enjoyment  is  still  on  the  increase."  Another 
subacriber,  S.  Colder,  of  Coventry,  sends  me  this  incident :  "  On  a  rainy  Sunday,  in  July,  '83, 
when  I  rode  from  Brixton  homeward,  112  m.,  my  58  in.  had  3  spokes  out  of  the  front  wheel  at 
«tarting,  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  giving  way.  I  have  several  times  ridden  more  than  100  m.  in  a 
day  of  z3  or  13  h.,  and,  a  while  ago,  I  did  some  long  distances  without  dismount ;  but  I  cannot 
lust  now  put  hands  on  the  papers  containing  the  details."  To  this  I  add  the  memorandum  of 
what  a  young  New  Yorker,  Geo.  Thaddeus  Stevens  (b.  Apr.  24,  1865),  told  me  concerning  a 
private  race  (rf  100  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  loj  h.,he  himself  doing  the  100  m.  in  11  h.,  ending  at  6  p.  m., 
though  he  rode  12  m.  before  the  start  and  15  m.  to  Surbiton  afterwards,  making  137  for  the  day. 
His  stops  amounted  to  about  x  h.,  and  his  longest  stay  in  the  saddle  was  35  m.,  though  he  had 
kept  it  for  36  m.  on  another  occasion. 

Thoi^h  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  previous  performance  of  the  sort  in  America,  I 
had  no  suspicion  of  iu  being  a  "  world's  record,"  untU  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  'Ss,  which  accredited  it  to  a  London  literary  weekly,  the  Examitur :  "  The  value 
of  the  Telodpede  or  bicycle  as  a  means  of  personal  transport  has  been  well  shown  by  the  ride 
across  Europe  of  Ivan  Zmertych,  who  left  London  on  the  7th  or  8th  of  June  and  rode  to  Dover. 
Fft»n  Ostend  he  started  on  the  loth,  and,  after  a  joiu-ney  of  1500  m.,  over  bad  roads  in  Be^um 
and  good  roads  in  Ormany,  he  reached  Pesth  on  the  30th.  Thus  he  accomplished  about  80  ra. 
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 
detafls  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  thatt  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  dub  "),  finally  reached  the  hands  of  L. 
D.  Kostovitz,  C.  T.  C.  consul  of  Budapest  (p.  481),  who  hapi>ened  to  know  of  him  as  residing 
at  Pressburg,  and  who  duly  sent  the  letter  thither,  notifying  roe  of  the  fact,  Dec.  10.  There- 
upon, Dec.  38,  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  Han^mrg  News,  which  said  ;  "  Hugo  Barthol,  a  native  of  Saxony, 
recently  completed  a  bicycle  journey  of  2800  m.  in  11  weeks.  He  rode  from  Gen.  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,  llie  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  and  once  to  steamer,~his  whole  distance  by  wheel  being  3799  kilometers ;  by  rail,  630  k.,— 
a  total  of  4439  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  Thonai 
Stevens  marked  a  much  longer  one,  Dieppe  to  Constantinople,  in  the  early  summer  of  ^85  (pw  4S0). 
Stevens's  previous  trail  of  3700  m.  across  America  was  completed  at  Boston  oa  the  very  day 
when  Barthol  was  forced  to  take  train  alongside  the  Adriatic  His  tour  as  a  whole  ranked  next 
to  that  of  Stevens  for  more  than  a  year ;  and  it  still  ranks  as  the  third  longest  known  to  lof 
recofd,— the  second  place  having  been  held,  since  Oct.,  '85,  by  the  3000  m.  ride  of  Ui^  J. 
High  (p.  484).  I  am  indebted  to  the  C.  T.  C.  consul  at  Berlin,  T.  H.  S.  Walker  (editor  of  the 
fortnightly  Radfahrer^  x8  Kiausen  St.,  W.)f  for  the  following  abstract  of  the  mannscript  report 
which  Mr.  B.,  who  is  an  acquaintance  of  his,  sent  in  at  my  request  (June  a,  '85),  though  it  to 
not  published  in  his  paper.  "  He  first  conceived  the  idea  of  riding  to  Italy  after  nrtaUng  a  trip 
through  Germany  and  Holland  (May  i  to  June  14,  *8a),  but  could  not  carry  it  out  until  3  yrs.  later. 
As  an  ordinary  m.  L  p.  bag  did  not  suffice  to  hold  enough  things  for  a  la  weeks'  trip,  he  also  or- 
ried  a  bundle  on  the  handle-bar,  the  weight  of  both  bemg  38  lbs.  He  rode  a  56  in.  Howe,  wet^ 
ing  45  lbs.,  and  his  own  weight  was  151,  making  a  total  of  334.  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 :  9d^ 
Saalfeld;  loth,  Meiningen  ;  izth,  Fulda;  isth,  Frankfort;  13th,  Maixu  ;  (14th,  visited  Nieder- 
wall  monument) ;  x5th,  Mannheim ;  xSth,  Strasbourg  {pia  Heidelberg  and  Speier) ;  aoch,  Fra- 
bourg ;  33d,  Basle ;  33d,  Schaffhausen ;  34th,  Constance ;  3sth,  Zurich.  He  found  aO  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  39th  af 
Airolo ;  30th  at  Bronico ;  and  July  ist  at  Milan,  which  they  left  on  3d,  and  reached  Toxin  on 
the  4th.  They  rode  over  high  mountain  ridges  (6th  and  7th)  to  Genoa ;  left  on  9th,  via  Spezia 
and  Pisa,  reaching  Florence  on  12th ;  left  on  16th,  and  after  hard  ride  got  to  Rome  cm  the  aolh. 
This  was  a  stretch  where  there  were  many  steep  hills  and  where  no  water  was  to  be  had  for  dis- 
tances of  30  m.  Under  intense  heat,  they  found  great  relief  by  wearing  wet  cloths  00  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  36th  they  reached  Capua  at  10  a.  u.;  oa 
the  37th  rode  into  Naples,  the  objective  point  of  the  tour.  Six  days  were  ^lent  in  visitii^  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  sl 
Foggio  was  reached  on  the  3d,  and  they  then  took  the  wrong  track  and  got  to  Scxra  Capriola,  oa 
the  Adriatic,  where,  as  the  road  came  to  an  end,  they  had  to  take  train  to  Pescara.  Thence 
they  wheeled  along  the  coast  to  Ancona,  7th;  Rimini,  9th;  and  Bologna,  xith;  taking  tnia 
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  z6th  took  steamer 
to  Trieste.  On  the  X7th,  herode  to  Miramarc  and  back,  and  on  the  zSth  left  T.  for  a  6  days'  ride 
through  Karrthia,  Stiermark  and  over  the  Semmering  to  Vienna,  on  the  33d.  Thence  on  the 
38th,  because  of  bad  weather,  he  took  train  to  Prague.  He  rode  o\tx  the  £rz  mountains  to 
Chemnitz  (Germany)  on  the  30th,  and  arrived  at  his  home  in  Ronneburg  near  Gera,  on  the  31st 
at  5  p.  M.  He  afterwards  suffered  severely  from  intermittent  fever."  The  accompanying  photo- 
graph (from  Oscar  Vc^el  in  Ronneburg)  shows  a  beardless  youth,  in  eye-glasses,  standing  beside 
a  mud  bespattered  hi.,  which  is  loaded  down  fore  and  aft,  with  big,  ungainly  bags^  He  wean  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,  ht» 
average  rate  being  80  m.  a  day."  More  definite  than  this  was  the  Cyclists  report  (July  S,  *85,  p. 
933)  of  the  "  magnificent  performance  "  of  P.  Rousset  (b.  1S35),  of  Bordeaux,  president  of  the 
Vdloce  Club  Bordelais,  who  "  started  at  6  a.  m.,  June  38,  to  accomplish  400  kilom.  (300  m.)  in  >8 
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  ius 
return.  A  little  beyond  M.,  he  was  delayed  |  h.  in  getting  his  tri  carted  across  a  flooded  road, 
but  the  surface  then  improved,  and  he  reached  the  turning  point  (300  k.)  well  inside  time.    The 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


553 


«iq;ht  was  cailm,  and  the  moon  made  the  path  as  clear  as  day.  On  getting  back  to  M.,  about  4 
o'clock,  he  I4>peared  fresh  and  made  no  delay,  and  during  the  last  h.  of  the  24  he  rode  22^  k., 
making  a  total  of  354  k.  (265^  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  28  h.  I  min.  He  rode  a  Cripper  semirracer  (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  okl  and  somewhat  stout."  1 
insert  an  earlier  allusion  to  him  {JBL  Worlds  Aug.  22,  '84) :  "P.  Rousaet's  tri.  record  of  288  k. 
in  24  h.  has  now  been  beaten  by  Daniel  ("  Baby  "),  of  Pau,  who  rode  a  rear  double-driver  tri. 
305  k.  (about  189^  m.)  July  16."  With  this  may  be  compared  what  is  said  to  be  (fFA**/,  Jan.  8, 
*ii6)  the  best  24  h.  ride  in  Holland  :  *'  £mil  Kiderlen,  of  Delfshaven,  a  village  near  Rotterdam, 
recently  rode  a  bicycle  from  R.  to  L^euwarden,  in  22  h.  35  min.,  inclusive  of  stoppages,  the  dis- 
tance by  cydoroeter  being  215  m."  Similarly,  a  floating  paragraph  of  Dec,  '85,  accredits  the 
24  h.  record  of  Germany  to  "  M.  Josee  Kohont,  of  the  Cesky  Klub  Velocipedists,  who  recently 
covered  248  m.  in  21^  h.  actual  riding  time.'* 

"The  London  Scottish  B.  C.  is  to  be  accredited  with  yet  another  long  distance  journey" 
iWhetlmgj  Oct.  22,  '85),  "  for  J.  E.  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  SL  Albans,  2.10  a.  m.,  Aropthill,  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.,  Aloonbury,  xo.15  p.  m.,  and  back  to  Norman's  Cross."  IVheeling's 
'*  medals  for  riders  of  the  Facile  in  '84,"  were  awarded  thus, — the  numerals  signifying  day's 
mileage  :  J.  H.  Adams,  2664  (Oct  4,  record  for  24  h.);  P.  A.  Nix,  234;  £.  Oxborrow,  234; 
A.  P.  £ngleheart,224;  C.  Lloyd,  200^ ;  H.  Crook,  20o| ;  S.W.  Reynolds,  206;  W.  Brown,  206 ; 
W.  £.  H.  Uoyd,  200^;  B.  Callander,  aooi;  H.  R.  Goodwin,  164;  R.  W.  McDonald,  162 ;  A. 
Pean,  150 ;  F.  W.  Guemey,  153.  Additional  gold  medals  were  awarded  for  these  three  special 
performanMs  :  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  144  days  (p.  536);  £.  Oxborrow,  100  m.  in  7  h.  31  min.  From 
fykge/iM£^  (Jzn.  so,  '86),  I  also  extract  some  statistics  about  the  Anfield  B.  C,  of  Liverpool, 
which  o£Eered  prises  valued  at  I300  for  the  promotion  of  long-distance  rides  in  '85,  with  the  re- 
sult that  50  of  its  S05  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,  23s,  208,  180,  and 
(tricycle)  sot};  G.  B.  Mercer,  228^,  213,  208,  and  207;  Lawrence  Fletcher  (tricycle),  2ii|  and 
■75 ;  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,  307;  D.  J.  Bell,  205;  A.  R. 
Fell,  205  and  201^,  Liverpool  to  London,  London  to  Liverpool — ^both  within  24  h.;  H.  Fnuer, 
aos  (100  m.  Kangaroo  race,  7  h.  6  min.  25  sec);  H.  M.  Walker,  205;  E.  Harrison,  204;  H. 
Russell,  202;  J.  IL  Conway,  202;  J.  B.  Beasley,  198^;  A.  H.  Fletcher  (tricycle),  iSx^;  W. 
Downes  Mills  (tricycle),  156;  A.  Barrow,  153;  T.  B.  Conway,  153;  J.  H.  Cook,  156;  J.  P. 
Fletcher,  152;  A.  W.  Gamble,  152;  T.  S.  Hughes,  170;  £.  A.  Thompson,  154;  W.  M.  Ker- 
row,  154;  F.  A.  Waring,  154;  R.  Fair,  jr.,  173.  The  laxgest  scores  were  as  follows :  Law- 
rence Fletcher,  6027 ;  G.  P.  Mills,  5270;  H.  Fraser,  5030;  N.  Crooke,  4500;  G.  B.  Mercer, 
43«5 ;  I>-  J-  Bell,  3543  ;  A.  W.  Gamble,  3535 ;  D.  R.  Fell,  35«>-  The  annual  24  h.  road-ride 
to  Weedon  and  back  was  won  by  G.  P.  Mills  with  260  m.;  G.  B.  Mercer  being  second,  with  213 
m.  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  200  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  zoo  m.  on  any  class 
of  cycle ;  a  gold  medal  for  the  longest  distance  rid(ien  in  24  h.  during  the  year ;  three  prizes  for 
attendance  at  runs ;  four  prizes  (total  value,  20  guineas)  for  the  greatest  number  of  points  gained, 
voder  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,  '^St — the  distance  being  89S  m.  and  the  time  6  days  15  h.  22  min. 
His  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  IVJueling^  and  published  at  the  office  of  that  paper  (Feb.  ao,  '86 ;  price  6d.)L 
I  h<^  it  may  contain  a  complete  list  of  the  other  rides  over  the  same  course,  for  the  atatitics  1 
now  give  are  imperfect.  The  swiftest  bi.  ride  is  accredited  to  James  Lennox  (J.  O'G.  to  I^  £.), 
of  Dumfries,  6  days  x6  h.  7  min.,  starting  June  39,  '85,  but  I  have  no  record  of  Us  eariio- 
trials.  Wheeling  of  Sept.  3,  '84,  printed  the  halting  places  and  mileages  of  two  riders  tim : 
"  H.  J.  Webb,  on  a  H umber  tri.,  starting  Aug.  17,  reached  Exeter,  123};  Gloucester,  aiai; 
Shrewsbury,  320} ;  Lancaster,  428I ;  Carlisle,  497i  '■>  Edinburgh,  588I ;  John  0'Groat*s,  89S}. 
Not  satisfied  with  this  grand  performance,  he  turned  back,  and  eaHy  on  the  tenth  day  readied 
Inverness,  bringing  his  total  ride  for  9  d.  6  h.  35  min.  to  1048^  m.'*  "Alfred  Nixon,  ataniiig  a 
day  earlier,  Aug.  16,  on  an  Imperial  Oub  tri.,  reached  Okehampton,  98};  Taunton,  99I; 
Bridgenorlh,  96;  Lancaster,  120^;  Carlisle,  68;  Edinburgh,  loi ;  Inverness,  145^;  Jofan 
O'Groat's,  127}.  This  total  of  856^  m.  in  8  days  lowered  his  previous  record  by  some  6  dsy^ 
On  the  28th,  2.15  to  11.45  ^-  m.,  he  rode  from  London  (Holborn  Viaduct)  to  Norman's  Cross,  76 
m.;  29th,  to  Borough  Bridge,  130^  m.;  30th,  Dunbar,  161  m.  (at  2  a.  m.  of  31st);  31st,  10  a.  w. 
to  J. 45  p.  M.,  Edinburgh,— a  total  distance  of  397  m.  in  2  d.  23  h."  Sept  12-15,  ^*^-  F- 
Sutton  made  the  400  m.  from  L.  to  E.  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'Croox's  in  | 
h.  less  than  7  days, — doing  197  m.  the  last  day,  his  total  route  being  about  925  m.  kms.  The 
best  previous  record  was  that  of  James  Lennox,  10  days',  one  of  which  had  been  devoted  ip 
rest  (except  that  H.  R.  Qoodwin  went  over  the  course  in  8  d.  15  h.,  starting  }ust  a  day  ahead 
of  Adams).  "  A  wonderful  performance  on  a  tricycle  "  was  Wheeling' $  designation  of  a  S4  h. 
run  of  231!  m.  taken  July  i,  '85,  by  C.  H.  R.  Gossett,  an  elderiy  man,  "to  beat  the  record," 
which  he  did  by  z}  m.  More  remarkable  than  all  was  the  ride  of  200  m.  taken  July  6  by  Mn. 
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  aiimbr 
nuchine,  geared  to  60  in.,  and  he  probably  rode  ao  m.  more,  m  arranging  for  her  at  vaiioos 
points.  Her  previous  best  record  of  152  m.  in  34  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  a  mos.,  and 
she  "  finished  the  long  ride  perfectly  fresh,"  said  the  Cyclist^  *'  thoogh  having  ridden  aO  the 
hills."  Among  the  several  attendants  for  short  stretches  was  J.  H.  Ball,  of  Coventry,  who  in  ^3 
rode  a  bi.  125  m.  without  dismount.  The  dates,  winners  and  times  of  the  annual  100  m.  races  on 
the  London  to  Bath  road  are  these  :  '77,  June  21,  C.  Walmesley,  8.33.30;  '78,  June  10,  F.  E. 
Appleyard,  7.18,55 ;  '79,  June  2,  A.  H.  Koch,  8.57.55 ;  '80,  May  17,  A.  D.  Butler,  13.3.0;  »8i, 
June  6,  L.  6.  Reynolds,  7.55.0;  '82,  May  29,  H.  R.  Reynolds,  7.26.0;  '83,  May  14,  H.  R_ 
Reynolds,  7.28.0;  '84,  June  3,  G.  F.  Beck,  8.26.40;  '85,  May  35,  P.  H.  Watson,  7.33.43. 


After  the  above  paragraph  was  put  m  type,  I  received  a  copy  of  the  little  book  t 
the  top  of  the  page,  and  I  find  that  it  gives  pp.  76-79  to  a  summary  of  8  long-distanoe  rides  pf«. 
vious  to  '83, — being  all  that  the  author  had  been  able  to  discover  any  record  of.  The  4  of  »h^ny 
that  were  from  London  to  John  0'Groat*s  are  named  first,  for  convenience*  sake,  thoi^  a  of 
them  were  later  in  time  than  2  of  the  rides  "  from  comer  to  comer  of  Great  Britain  *' ;  thus  r 
(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  NewcastleMon- 
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.  Black  well,  jr.,  of  the  Canonbury  B.  C,  rode  alone  over  the  same  route  in  ti  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  route, 
through  the  Scotch  lakes,  to  Inverness,  and  thence  by  the  former  route  to  J.  O'G.,  745  m..  in  16 
days,  whereof  5  were  devoted  to  visiting  and  sight-seeing.  (4)  In  Oct.,  »8t,  H.  Line  and  W. 
Bourdon,  of  the  Bromley  B.  C,  rode  to  J.  O'G.,  727  m.,  in  ao  days,  including  a  2  days'  hah  fer 
snow,  and  much  other  stormy  weather.  (5)  On  Monday,  July  12,  *8o,  H.  Blackwell,  jr.,  and 
.  Harman,  of  the  Canonbury  B.  C,  left  Penzance,  and  rode  to  J.  O'G.,  876  m.,  ra  13  days. 


BRJTJSH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


555 


^riie  nmte  irom  Edinbursh  to  the  finish  was  the  same  as  in  Aug.,  '79 ;  and,  two  days  before  the 
start,  they  wheeled  from  P.  to  Land's  End  and  back,  32  ro.  (6)  On  Monday,  June  20,  '81,  J. 
Lennoz  b^an  a  13  days*  ride,  J.  O'G.,  to  L.  £.,  945  m.  He  wheeled  out  from  Wick  before 
Uie  start,  and  bade  from  L.  £.  to  Penzance  after  the  finish, — an  additional  30  m.  inside  the  la 
days, — doing  131  m.  on  the  final  day.  After  6  days'  riding,  he  rested  during  Sunday  at  his  home 
in  Dumfries ;  and  so  I  suppose  he  finished  on  Saturday  night,  with  only  zz  days  of  actual  rid- 
ing. He  faced  a  head-wind  all  the  way,  and  had  6  days  of  wet  weather.  (7)  On  Monday,  June 
5,  '83,  at  4.5  A.  M.,  Ion  Keith-Falconer  left  L.  E.,  for  a  ride  of  994  m.,  ending  at  J.  O'G.,  13 
ciays  later,  at  3.30  a.  m.— the  final  day's  record  being  1 10  m.  He  used  a  56  in.  wheel,  weighing 
45  lbs.  I  believe  he  was  then  an  undergradiute  at  Cambridge ;  and  his  exploit  seems  to  have 
attracted  more  public  interest  than  any  previous  long  ride.  By  invitation  of  the  citizens  of 
Aberdeen,  he  gave  a  sort  of  informal  lecture  about  it  in  their  Town  Hall,  and  this  was  reported 
in  full  by  the  Aberdun  Free  FresSf  and  reprinted  by  the  IVheelman  (Oct.,  '82,  pp.  57-60),  show- 
nig  the  kg  of  each  day.  (8)  Two  months  later,  on  Wednesday,  Aug.  16,  '83,  Alfred  Nixon,  of 
London,  left  J.  O'G.  at  ix  a.  m.  and  drove  a  tricycle  to  L.  £.  in  14  days,  ending  at  10.55  a.  m. 
His  route  was  identical  with  the  previous  one,  except  that  he  was  misdirected  for  3  m.  and  rode 
from  Thurso  before  starting,— so  that  the  totad  was  1007  m.,  whereof  104  m.  belonged  to  the 
last  day.  He  published  in  the  Trkyclist  a  detailed  account  of  this  earliest  long-distance  exploit 
Ob  a  tricycle,  and  the  JVJkeelman  reprinted  it  (Nov.,  '82,  pp.  129-Z32).  As  regards  the  "  corner 
to  comer  "  rides  of  '83,  Tom  Moore's  book  merely  says  that,  "  J.  Lennox  was  again  the  hero, 
greatly  reducing  the  hi.  time ;  and  A.  Nixon  put  in  another  capital  performance  on  the  tri."  ; 
and  it  mentions  for  the  next  two  years  only  one  ride  besides  the  6  which  I  have  already  recorded, — 
namely,  that  taken  in  '85  by  £.  Oxborrow,  on  a  Facile,  in  6  days  23  h.  "  Thus  the  end  of  '85 
saw  T.  K.  Marriott  absolutely  at  the  top  of  the  tree,  and  with  the  coveted  record  (certified  by 
the  Records  Committee  of  the  N.  C.  U.,  Nov.  2),  which  not  only  surpassed  all  previous  times 
on  the  tri.  but  '  knocked  out '  the  bi.  record  also,  though  every  one  knows  the  two-wheeler  is  a 
faster  machine.  This  Humber  tri.  made  the  journey  (871  m.  by  Hemu's  cyclom.)  without  a  nut 
or  screw  coming  loose,  though  weighing  only  54  lbs.  It  had  40  in.  wheels,  geared  to  56  in.  and 
fin.  tires."  It  was  made  by  Marriott  &  Cooper,  of  which  firm  the  rider  is  senior  partner.  His 
hei|^  is  5  ft  8  in.,  and  usual  weight  146  lbs.,  though  this  increased  to  150  lbs.  within  3  days 
after  the  ride.  The  full-length  photograph  which  was  taken  then,  at  Glasgow,  to  form  a  frontis- 
piece for  the  book,  suggests  an  age  of  about  35.  "  The  hotel  where  the  ride  began,  at  3  miu. 
past  midnight  of  Monday,  Sept.  21,  stands  on  a  projecting  headland,  i^  m.  beyond  Sennen,  the 
last  village  in  England,  and  at  the  very  edge  of  the  clifis, — thus  fully  justifying  its  title  of  Land's 
End.  A  thick  fog,  a  pouring  rain,  a  road  of  fearful  surface  and  some  gigantic  hills,  character- 
ized the  first  i\  h.  (to  Penzance,  10^  m.),  and  the  rain  did  not  stop  till  6.30  a.  m.,  when  56  m. 
had  been  covered.  He  halted  for  sleep  at  Bridgewater,  at  zi.45  p.  m.,  after  getting  across  165 
m.,  which  included  more  rough  and  hilly  roads  than  any  later  day  of  the  ride,  and  which  was  30 
m.  beyond  the  first  day's  stopping  place  of  any  previous  rider  from  L.  E."  On  the  22nd,  after  3^ 
h.  in  bed,  he  started  at  4.30  a.  m.  and  rode  147  m.  to  Hodnet,  at  10  rain,  past  midnight,  making 
3X3  m.  for  the  48  h. ;  23rd,  "much  rain  and  wind  "  ;  4.30  a.  m.  to  zo.20  p.  m.,  to  Kendal,  428 
m. ;  a4th,  "  winds  and  heavy  showers  "  ;  3.45  a.  m.  to  2.30  a.  m.  (of  25th),  to  Edinburgh,  570 
n. ;  asih,  "  storms  of  rain,  snow  and  sleet "  ;  after  only  i]  h.  in  bed,  6. 15  a.  m.  to  3.30  a.  m. 
(of  36th),  to  Kingussie,  687  m. ;  36th,  "  several  snow  storms,  water  on  roads,  deep  mud  and 
slush  ";  8.30  A.  M.  to  1.30  A.  M.  (of  27th),  to  Clashmore,  778  m. ;  27th,  3.30  a.  m.  to  3.25  p.  m., 
J.  O'G.,  871.  Pace-makers  accompanied  him  nearly  all  the  way, — the  most  efficient  being  F.  S. 
Buckingham,  who  was  with  him  at  the  finish. 

Marriott's  record  on  the  tri.  was  just  45  min.  better  than  the  best  bi.  record,  which  had  stood 
for  3  mos. ;  but  the  maker  of  this  (J.  Lennox),  within  9  mos.  after  M.'s  ride,  bettered  his  own 
time  by  7  h.  43  min.,  in  the  faice  of  even  worse  weather  than  M.  encountered.  Only  4  weeks 
later,  G.  P.  Mills  took  the  wonderful  bi.  ride  which  reduced  this  record  by  z  day  6  h.  25  min. ; 
and  then,  in  Aug.,  on  a  tri.,  he  reduced  Marriott's  record  by  i  day  s  h.  22  min.,— thus  also 
bettering  by  22  h.  the  best  bi.  record  of  Lennox.    The  latter  printed  in  Wheeling  (June  23,  '86, 


5s6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

p.  173)  a  three-column  report  of  his  ride,  whose  details  were  authenticated  hy  an  abundanoe  ol 
pace-makers  and  other  witnesses.  Thunder  storms  or  other  pouring  rains  prevailed  on  erery 
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  8.25  a.  m.  of  Sunday,  with  a  record  of  877  m.  for  the  6  days,  8  h. 
and  35  min.  The  mileage  of  the  successive  daily  stretches  between  sleeping-places  was  as  fol* 
lows :  Bridgewater,  163 ;  Wellington,  134! ;  Garstane,  104} ;  Selkiric,  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.,  12.20  and  6.15  a.  m.  ;  G.,  tt.  1$ 
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  25  h.  of  continuous  riding,  and  ended  with  a  still  kmger  poll 
of  29  h. ;  yet  the  rider  gained  t\  lbs.  on  the  way.  "  Writing  with  a  fresh  recollectbn  of  the 
diflSculties,"  he  says,  "  I  am  of  the  opinion  that,  with  dry  weather,  and  with  no  great  amount 
of  opposing  wind,  the  distance  from  L.  E.  to  J.  O'G.  on^X.  to  be  completed  in  5  days,  by  a 
competent  rider,  on  hi.  or  tri."  He  arranged  to  attempt  this,  Aug.  16,  '86 ;  but  bad  weather  fcv- 
bade.  I  believe  the  weather  also  caused  A.  Nixon  to  abandon  the  plan  (announced  in  Wheeting^ 
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.  E.,  was  reached  in  2|  days,  by  the 
aid  of  various  pace-makers,  and  A.  H.  Fletcher  accompanied  him  thence  to  J.  O'G.  The  first 
stretch  from  L.  E.  was  25^  h.,  to  Gloucester,  230  m.,  where  ash.  halt  was  made  for  sleep  be- 
fore the  second  stretch  of  24}  h.  to  Kendal,  200  m. ;  and  Edinburgh,  150  m.  further,  was 
reached  at  ix  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, 
27  m.,  at  8. 55;  Athole,  62  m.,  at  x.30;  Kingussie,  100  m.,  at  9.21,  and  Caribridge,  121  ni.,at 
11.55.  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.,  x6o  m.,— finishing  at  1.45  A.  M.  oC 
July  10.  A  month  later,  he  drove  a  Humber  tri.  over  the  course,  88t  ra.,  in  5  days,  10  h. ;  and 
I  condense  the  following  facts  from  his  own  two-column  report  iJVhfUng^  Sept.  t,  '86,  p.  331) : 
The  start  was  just  after  midnight  of  Monday,  Aug.  15,  the  roads  being  wet  and  heavy  from  rain 
which  had  fallen  until  10.30 ;  and  rain  fell  again  from  2  to  6  a.  m.,  and  also  in  the  evening  after 
7.  Nevertheless,  he  reached  Bristol,  203  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  si.30  p.  m.  (367);  after 
another  3  h.  halt,  rode  for  26^  h.,  to  Crawford,  175  m.  (542) ;  after  2  h.  halt,  the  fourth  stage  was 
completed  to  Dalwhinnie,  7  a.  m.  to  3  a.  m.,  144  ro.  (686),  slowness  having  been  enforced  by  a 
dangerously  rough  road,  and  inability  to  use  his  lantern ;  after  3  h.  halt,  he  rode  109  m.  mwe  dur- 
ing that  fifth  day,  to  Golspie,  at  11.25  (809);  and  then,  after  \  h.  sleep,  started  at  12.40  a.  m. 
for  the  final  72  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  162  m.,  accompanied  him  for  several  hours ;  but  A.  W.  Gamble  was  his  most  effi- 
cient pace-maker  and  assistant  during  this  great  journey ;  and  the  proofe  of  it,  as  well  as  of  h» 
July  hi.  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  fourth 
annual  issue  of  the  "  Liverpool  Cyclists'  Guide  "  (by  Geo.  E.  Young,  b.  July  30,  '52  ;  a  iHieel- 
man  continuously  since  '69),  and  faces  a  table  of  his  monthly  riding-record  fonr  '85,  cut  from  the 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  557 

BL  Nkws  of  Jan.  29,  '86.  This  shows  5270  m.  laccredhed  to  92  days,  or  an  average  daily  ride  ol 
57I  m.  On  19  ol  these  days  he  rode  more  than  xoo  m.,  and  on  5  of  the  19  he  rode  more  than 
soo  m.  In  the  foDowing  abstract  of  the  uble,  the  numerals  successively  show  the  number  of 
rides»  monthly  mileage,  averse  ride,  longest  ride,  and  total  mileage  from  Jan.  1,  '85  :  Jan.^ 
5.  »35.  «7.  38.  «35 ;  Feb.— 4,  "7,  a94»  3».  252 ;  Mar.--9.  3x1,  33^,  62,  563  ;  Apr.— 7,  435,  6a, 
xSo,  998;  May-13.  895,  68J,  156,  1893  ;  June— 7,  43*1  6x1,  «o6,  2325 ;  July— 14, 1367,  97l.35a» 
3692  ;  Aog.— 9,  747, 83»  360, 4439  i  Sept.— 9, 348, 38^,  47,  478? ;  Oct.— 5, 159, 32, 39, 4946 ;  Not.— 
6>  173*  a9>  39»  5119;  Dec- 4,  151,  38,  73,  5270.  His  longest  ride  in  '85  was  900I  m.  in  8  days, 
s8  h. ;  thus  :  May  25  he  rode  from  Liverpool  to  Daventry  and  back  to  Coventry,  156  m.,  in  23I 
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  Qouoester,  121  m. ;  May  27  to  June  a,  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.  0*G.,  87s  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.  E.  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,  X4i 
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  At%.  22,  "  from  Knotty 
Ash  to  Weedoo  and  bade  to  Bold  Bridge,  straighuway,  up  and  down  hill,  over  roads  good,  bad 
and  indifferent."  The  252  m.  ride  was  on  July  22,  from  Liverpool  to  Dunchurcb  and  back; 
and  it  was  a  sort  of  seqiwl  to  the  23a  m.  ride  of  July  13,  on  the  same  route,  when  the  last  180 
m.  were  done  with  a  broken  pedal. 

Id  '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  <m  Aug.  5— ten  days  before  his  tri.  ride  to  J.  O'G.— that  he  surprised  people  by  wheeling 
S73  m.  <m  a  Beeston  Humber  jyf.,  "fitted  with  the  Trigwell  ball-bearing  head,  which  was  as 
i^id  at  the  finish  as  when  starting."  The  start  was  i  m.  n.  of  Biggleswade,  at  the  46th  m. -stone 
of  the  Great  North  Road.  Along  this  he  went  straightaway  from  12  to  6.4s  A.  m.,  and  then 
tnmed  bade  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,  hdd  by  Appleyard.  He  dined  at  Holbach  (2.40 
to  3JK>,  174  m.) ;  reached  Lynn  the  third  time  with  194  m.  done ;  halted  xo  min.  for  food  at  234 
m. ;  got  back  to  Biggleswade  at  ix.ao,  with  265  m. ;  and  finished  at  the  45th  m.-stone,  273  m., 
just  as  the  dock  struck  midnight.  [The  best  previous  record  was  266}  m. ,  made  by  J.  H.  Adams, 
OcL  4,  '84.]  Shifty  winds  were  somewhat  of  a  hindrance  for  the  last  x8o  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,  he 
bettered  this  record  ai|  m.,  starting  again  at  B.,  and  finishing  on  the  stroke  of  12,  when  ^  m. 
from  that  town,  with  294I  m.  done.  "  Hitchin,  Peterboro«igh,  Wisbeach,  Cambridge  and  Bed- 
ford were  the  prindpal  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  xoo  m. 
were  done  in  7^  h.,  150  in  xa  h.  and  200  in  16^  h.  He  rode  an  Ivd  rear-driving  safety  bi.,  made 
by  Dan  Albone,  of  B.,  and  was  accompanied  by  Dan  for  about  x6o  m.,  and  by  others  nearly  aU 
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  "  {fVkeeliMgp 
Oct.  13,  '86).    Midway  between  these  esqiloits,  on  Sept.  4,  Mills  won  the  24  h.  road-race  of  the 

North  Road  C.  C.,— doing  227  m.,  as  against  ass  m.  by .  Waterhouse,  of  Sheffield ;  217  m. 

by  C.  W.  Brown;  2x7  m.  by——.  Huntsman,  of  London;  190  m.  by  T.  R.  Marriott  (tri.); 
and  206  m.  by  Day  and  Moorhouse  (tandem).  There  were  several  slower  competitors ;  and  M. 
was  **  the  only  one  of  the  bicyders  who  escaped  any  falls,  on  account  of  the  heavy  mist,  pitdi 
darkness,  high  winds  and  fearful  state  of  the  roads."  On  Sept.  6,  J.  K.  Conway  rode  25s  m.  on 
this  course,  bdng  accompanied  206  m.  by  his  brother,  T.  B.  C. ;  and  on  Sept  7,  G.  B.  Mercer 
(itting  a  31  lbs.  R.  &  P.  bi.)  rode  260  m.  there,— doing  117  m.  before  breakfast,  and  aso  m. 
before  8  r.  k.    He  was  accompanied  for  200  m.  by  N.  Crooke,  who  then  had  a  bad  fall,  whidi 


558  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

forced  him  to  give  up  at  aso  m.  All  four  of  these  raen  belong  to  the  Anfield  B.  C,  aaid  i 
'85  rides  are  reoorded  on  p.  553,  along  with  those  of  Miils.  The  latter  lowered  the  50  m.  hi. 
road-record  19  rain.,  on  Saturday,  Oct.  a,  surting  at  3.10  y.  m.,  on  an  Ivel  safety  bi.,  from  the 
30th  m.-post  (which  is  4  m.  s.  of  Hitchin)  and  riding  to  the  &>th  m.-po«t,  at  Peterbomugh,  in  a 
h.  47  min.  36  sec  "  The  road  was  in  perfect  condition,  and  the  breese  slif^tly  favorable.  The 
first  15  m.  to  Biggleswade  were  done  in  45  min.,  and  Dan  Albone  was  pace-okaker  ihcsice  to 
the  finish."  The  time  was  1  min.  33  sec.  more  than  that  on  the  notable  50  m.  ride  which  Mills 
took  with  A.  J.  Wilson,  Sept.  aa,  on  a  Beeston  Humber  tandem,  from  the  76U1  m.-posit,  4  m.  s^ 
of  Peterborough,  straighUway  to  Langford.  The  first  ao  m.  occupied  ooly  i  h.  4  min.  ;  the  first 
38  m.,  2  h.  (being  faster  than  the  bi.  record  on  path);  and  the  total  of  2  h.  46  min.  3  sec.  was 
only  5  sec.  slower  than  the  bi.  path  record,  and  was  33  min.  52  sec  faster  than  the  previous  beat 
50  m.  tandem  ride,  accredited  to  S.  Lee  and  Dr.  Turner.  Droves  of  cattle  hindeied  ptogacje 
at  several  places,  and  the  wind  was  contrary  near  the  finbh.  On  Sept.  as.  Mills  and  Wiboa 
began  an  attempt  to  do  300  m.  in  a  day ;  but  at  2.45  a.  m.,  when  44  m.  had  been  covered,  their 
tandem  was  overturned  and  disabled,  by  running  into  a  heap  of  road-metal. 

The  most  notable  long-distance  tri.  ride  reported  in  Fiance,  was  that  of  Daniel  (known  as 
"  Baby  "  ;  see  p.  S53)i  from  Pau  to  Calais,  Aug.  12,  at  4  a.  m.,  to  Aog.  17,  at  3.17  p.  m., — a  dis- 
tance of  660  ni.,  in  5  days,  10  h.  17  min.,  whereof  99  h.  37  min.  were  spent  in  the  saddle.  **Ue 
reached  Bergerae,  about  137  m.,  at  9.40  p.  m.  of  Aug.  la ;  then  plodded  on  from  4.20  a.  m.  of 
the  Z3th  to  3  a.  m.  of  the  z4th,  and  slept  2  h.  at  Laumont ;  reached  Orleans  at  8.30  p.  jt.  «l 
14th ;  passed  through  Paris  to  Pontoise,  on  15th  (after  a  delay  of  2  or  3  h.  by  mistake  in  rood) ; 
reached  Auxy-le-Chateau  on  i6th,  and  Calais  on  17th.  He  sent  back  postcards,  from  each  viU 
>«g«i  signed  by  the  officer  in  charge,  to  verify  the  ride."  I  quote  from  the  Paris  cor.  of  the 
H^heelmen**  Geuette  (Oct.,  '86,  p.  107),  who  also  said  :  "  H.  O.  Duncan  tried  a  similar  task, 
eariier  in  the  year,  but,  after  fighting  5  or  6  days*  rain,  gave  up  any  idea  of  making  a  record.  ** 
Wheeling,  of  Aug.  4,  '86,  said  :  "  Mr.  Former,  of  Vienna,  has  just  ridden  a  W.  from  V.  to 
Paris,  in  n  days,  2  h.,  thus  beating  Lieut.  Zubowitz*s  famous  honeback  ride  of  14  days.** 
(For  route  of  T.  Stevens,  P.  to  V.,  May  16-31,  '85,  see  pp.  480-81.)  On  Sept.  31,  'SS.  J.  a 
Warren  and  G.  Adams,  of  St.  Helens,  rode  from  St  H.  to  LlandaflF,  Wales,  193^  m.,  in  sj  h. 
8  min.  As  regards  the  rumored  "  ia,ooo  m.  done  on  a  tri.  in  '82,  by  W.  W.  Williams,  of  Loo- 
don,"  I  am  obliged  to  report  that  he  has  neglected  to  answer  my  letters  of  enquiry,  thoogb  other 
Londoners  have  told  me  that  the  "  record  "  has  no  known  basis  of  cydom.  or  written  \o^.  It 
is  supposed  simply  to  represent  a  "  general  guess  of  about  1000  m.  a  month, »»  ridden  chteHy  in 
the  regular  order  of  business  (that  of  insurance-agent,  I  think);  but  since  such  weH-kimn 
ridets  as  "  Faed »»  and  H.  R.  Goodwin  (p.  535)  have  been  careless  enough  to  allude  to  it  in 
pnbUc,  as  if  it  were  authentic  ("  Faed  "  did  this  in  Spr.  Wk.  Com.  July,  »83,  p.  35),  I  fee)  forced 
to  make  this  present  explanation,  to  show  that  I  did  not  write  in  ignorance,  on  p.  531,  when  I 
named  E.  Tegetmeier's  10,053  m.  as  the  highest  annual  record  then  accredited  to  a  wheelman. 


[The  first  part  of  this  chapter,  as  far  as  the  break  in  p.  554,  is  9  mos.  older  than  the  rest  of 
it,  having  all  been  put  in  type  by  Feb.  15,  »86,— whereas  these  final  pages  are  written  and  elec- 
tiotyped  during  the  latter  half  of  Nov.  Meanwhile,  rtiy  correspondents  at  the  Antipodes,  ex- 
pectingeach  month  to  receive  the  completed  book,  have  failed  to  send  reports  of  their  move 
recent  rides;  so  that  the  following  summaries  are  mostly  prepared  from  materials  which  I 
accumulated  in  '84-5,— supplemented  by  a  file* of  the  fortnightly  Australian  Cyclmg  JSTemt,  op 
to  the  date  of  its  discontinuance,  Sept.  25,  *86.] 

My  eariiest  subscriber  in  that  part  of  the  world— enroDed  as  «  No.  1x38  "  on  the  fist-« 
Geo.  W.  Burston,  Capt.  of  the  Melbourne  B.  C,  which  is  not  only  one  of  the  largest  dubs  of 
the  sort  on  the  Island  Continent,  but  is  also  one  of  the  oldest  anywhere  existing,— for  it  was 
formed  about  the  middle  of  Aug.,  '78.  His  letter  to  me  of  Mar.  aa,  '84,  said  :  "As  you  ask 
fordetails  of  the  100  m.  straightaway  ride  which  brought  my  name  to  your  notice,  I  endose  a 
correct  account,  written  by  T.  A.  Edwards,  from  the  Aftlbmtm*  Bulletin  of  May  as,  '83.    I  also 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  559 

•end  you  our  little  dub-book,  oonuiiiinc  teoords  of  such  toura  and  100  m.  runs  as  have  been  taken 
by  our  80  members.  You  will  observe  that  a  club  rule  grants  a  gold  medal  to  each  member  on  the 
fiitt  oocasioB  of  his  wheeling  xoo  m.  within  m  h.,  provided  he  rides  at  least  50  m.  straightaway, 
•o  as  not  to  traverse  the  same  road  twice,  except  on  the  return.  The  book  names  6  such  medal' 
takers,  and,  since  it  was  printed,  these  7  have  also  ridden  the  joo  m.  i  G.  S.  Geddes,  Geo. 
Irwin,  J.  Farasworth,  J.  F.  Cole,  Chas.  Walker,  T.  B.  Mason,  A.  Waterman.  I  am  now'usmg 
a  57  in.  British  Challenge,  which  is  my  fourth  bicycle,  and  I  have  ridden  at  least  xs.ooo  m.  dur- 
ing the  last  5  years."  Uis  100  m.  ride  of  Sunday,  May  ao,  '83,  m  9  h.  50  min.,  though  much 
hindered  by  bad  roads  and  weather,  was  a  h.  better  than  any  previously  made  in  his  club,  and 
it  remained  for  5  moa.  "the  best  Australian  record."  I  think  no  earlier  rider  in  that  region  had 
done  the  loo  m.  straighUway,  or  stayed  in  the  saddle  for  48  m.  "  Starting  from  Ballarat  (Lester's 
Hotel),  at  6.10  A.  M.,  in  pitchy  darkness,  he  found  the  cold  increase  in  bitterness  to  Clarendon, 
where  the  small  poob  of  water  were  glased  with  ice,  the  country  was  white  with  frost,  and  the 
rood  was  rough  and  half-dry.  This  improvedat  Elaine  (aom,,  a  h.),  but  a  sUght  breese  then  had 
to  be  faced  for  a  h.  to  the  Batesford  Hill,  which  forced  the  first  dismount,  at  10.34  (48  m).  The 
next  6  m.  were  done  in  28  min.,  to  GecJong,  where  so  rain,  rest  was  had,  and  a  breese  helped  then 
to  little  river,  where  rain  began.  This  soon  made  a  certain  bad  stretch  of  day  unridable.  and 
ao  min.  were  spent  in  walking  i  m.  at  the  end  of  it.  Werribee  was  readied  at  ..37,  and  20  min. 
test  was  had ;  thence  a  good  pace  was  taken  to  Footscray,  where  i  m.  across  the  flat  was  unrid- 
able;  and  the  ride  ended  at  Melbourne  (Mitre  Tavern),  ioom.,at  4P.  m."  On  Oct.  i4.'83,T.  P. 
Jenkins,  of  Ballarat,  lowered  this  record  35  min.,  "  on  a  54  in.  D.  H.  F.  Premier,  which  he  had 
recenUy  won  in  a  50  m.  Premier  roa^race."  Stardng  from  the  post-office  in  B.  at  5.30  a.  m.,  he 
reached  Elaine,  20  m. ,  in  i  h.  25  min. ,  and  Geelong,  54  m. ,  3  h.  later.  After  35  min.  for  bath  and 
refreshments,  he  began  the  return  at  10.25,  ^uid,  with  wind  at  his  back  and  roads  in  perfect  order, 
sped  swifdy  to  Lethbridge,  at  1 1.45  ;  halted  1  h.  at  Meredith  for  food  and  rest ;  passed  through 
Clarendon,  and  finished  at  Buninyong,  at  3,  with  a  record  of  loz  m.  On  Jan.  31,  '84,  F.  W. 
Briggs,  sec  of  Warmambool  C.  C,  took  14  min.  less  in  doing  the  100  m.,  on  a  51  in.  Invinci-' 
Ue,  weighing  26  lbs.,  thus :  Starting  from  W.  (Pumim)  at  7.37  a.  m.,  he  rode  through  Mort^ 
lake  and  Terang  to  Camperdown,  44  m.,  in  3  h.  38  min.  without  dismount.  After  so  min.  for 
hindi,  he  began  the  return,  at  11.35,  through  T.  and  M.  to  Darlington  ;  then  turned  again  and 
finished  at  M.,  at  4.48,  completing  the  too  m.  in  9  h.  11  min.  (8^  h.  of  riding).  This  seems 
to  faaive  "remained  record"  until  Sept.  28,  *8s,  when  T.  F.  Hallam  rode  100  m.,  straight 
across  Tasmania,  in  9  h.  9  min.  "  The  longest  road-race  ever  hdd  in  Australia  "  was  that  of 
75  m.,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Warmambool  C.  C.  (which  has  about  joo  members),  Nov.  9, 
"Ss,  and  it  was  won  by  the  captain,  £.  White,  in  6  h.  17  min.  43  sec. ;  F.  Proudfoot  was  second, 
W.  P.  Croll  was  third;  but  the  fourth  and  last  man,  A.  J.  Foote,  did  the  whole  distance  with- 
out a  dismount,  and  was  less  than  7  min.  behind  the  winner.  On  Oct.  11,  '83,  he  rode  joo  m. 
in  9  b.  54  min.,  and,  in  the  autumn  of  '85,  170  m.  in  two  days.  I  think  all  three  of  these  rides 
were  straightaway ;  and  the  75  m.  stay  in  the  saddle  is  the  longest  reported  to  me  from  Austra^ 
lia,— the  nearest  approach  to  it  being  made,  a  month  Utter,  Dec.  14*  '83,  by  R.  O.  Bishop  (z.  16), 
who  rode  without  stop  from  Geelong  to  Melbourne,  52  m.,  in  4}  h.  (For  comparison  with 
Londoners'  straightaway  stays,  106  m.  and  70  m.,  see  p.  S40-)  On  May  9,  '83,  F.  W.  Briggs 
and  A.  J.  Foote  both  wheeled  too  m.  in  9  h.  26  min.  of  "  riding  time." 

On  Oct.  to,  '83,  H.  R.  Stokes,  of  Mdboume  B.  C,  did  100  m.,  in  11  h.  4  min.,— probably 
on  the  same  road  where  he  won  die  50  m.  straight  race,  from  Kyneton  to  M.,  in  3  h.  12  min., 
Oct  ay,  '83.  On  this  road  also  were  made  the  three  earliest  100  m.  records  of  the  club,  from  M. 
to  K.  and  back,  thus  :  Jan.  3,  '8s,  W.  S.  Hazelton,  zi  h.  54  min. ;  Jan.  8,  '82,  H.  R.  Stokes, 
Ti  h.  54  min. ;  Nov.  26,  '82,  Alf.  Joy,  11  h.  46  min.  The  dub's  next  record  was  made  straight- 
away by  G.  W.  Bvrston,  as  already  detailed ;  and,  after  this,  Sept.  26,  '83,  G.  A.  Thome  and 
F.  J.  LeweDyn  rode  from  M.  to  Moolap  and  back  (4  m.  past  Gcebng),  zoo  m.,  in  10  h.  59  min. 
Ob  Apr.  4,  ^85,  starting  from  Camperdown  at  6  a.  m.,  G.  A.  Thome  (54  in*  British  Challenge) 
fode  100  m.  in  9  b.  49  min.,  while  trying  to  k>wer  the  record  of  F.  W.  Briggs,  but  was  hindered 
by  the  wind.    The  dub>book  gives  no  date  for  the  eariiest  recorded  tour,  254  m.  in  three  daySi 


56o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

which  was  taken  by  J.  A.  K.  Oarke,  A.  S.  Mason  and  A.  B.  Mason,  from  M.  to  < 
Ballarat,  Gcelong  and  QucenadifEe,— but  it  waa  presumably  in  '7^  In  *8o,  at  Easter,  O.  W. 
Bureton,  E.  C.  Carter,  H.  C.  Bagot,  A.  E.  Buzxard,  W.  S.  Haxehon,  D.  R.  Lone,  C.  Smttb^GL 
Stevenson  and  H.  H.  Turner  rode  from  Geelong  to  Warmambool,  ux  m. ;  and,  at  i  Tiriiinnaaj 
the  two  first  named  sailed  across  to  Tasmania  and  wheeled  from  Lauoceatoa  to  Uobait,  txk 
m.,-while  H.  C.  Bagot,  J.  A.  K.  Oarke,  W.  Calvert,  E.  J.  Gill,  J.  HaU  and  L.  Moody  rode 
from  M.  to  Ballarat.  In  '81,  at  Easter,  G.  W.  Buraton,  F.  Lister  and  D.  R.  Long  rode  tram 
Colac  to  Hamilton,  Ararat  and  Bailarat,  246  m.  (ind.  05  m.  in  16  h.);  and,  at  Chrisunaa,  tte 
first  two,  with  G.  Hope  and  H.  R.  Stokes,  rode  310  m.  in  4  days,— to  Geekmg,  Mortkake, 
Ballarat  and  Melbourne.  .  In  Oct.,  '82.  H.  C.  Bagot  and  F.  J.  Empsoo  rode  500  m.  in  9  days,— 
from  Ballarat  to  Hamilton,  Warmambool,  Camperdown,  DcnringaUum.back  10  BaUaiac,iiieooe 
to  Talbot,  Malmesbury  and  Melbourne.     At  Christmas,  '8a,  G.  W.  Burston,  E.  U.  *  yfie  end 

F.  Stokes  rode  to  Marysville  and  back ;  while  All.  Joy  took  a  two  days'  circuit  of  175  »•  ihra^gli 
Geelong  and  BallaraL  At  Easter,  '83,  G.  W.  Burston,  H.  C  Bagot,  C  Carter,  H.  U  Head- 
ford  and  W.  S.  Harelton  rode  to  Geelong,  Ballarat,  Warrnambool  and  Colac,  390  m.  in  4 
days,— while  G.  A.  Thome  rode  from  M.  to  Echuca  and  back,  jao  m.  in  5  days,— £.  beteg  n 
border  town  whence  a  bridge  crosses  the  Murray  into  N.  S.  W.  Melbourne's  illost.  mas-,  Omcg 
m  Month,  of  May  15,  '85,  contained  a  6-column  sketch  of  the  dub's  Easter  tour  of  that  year, 
written  by  F.  J.  Empson,  who  named,  as  the  other  participants,  G.  W.  Burston,  E.  C  Ositer, 

G.  S.  Geddes,  J.  Baird,  H.  Harston, .  Skoglund  and  C  Wragge,— together  with  Geou 

Spiccr,  Captain  of  the  Victoria  B.  C  (and,  at  the  start,  two  long-distance  toorisu  from  Ada- 
kide).  Train  was  taken  to  Ballarat,  as  astarting-^point,  and  the  officers  of  the  dub  there  aooook- 
panied  the  party  to  a  midnight  supper  on  arrival,  and  gave  an  escort  of  ao  men  for  the  fint  lew 
miles  of  the  tour,  next  morning.  Then  at  Beaufort,  28  ra.  on,  another  esoott  of  y>  welconed 
them  to  a  banquet  in  the  Shire  Hall ;  and  at  Buangor,  14^  m.,  still  others  were  waiting  to  ride 
with  them  the  last  14  m.  to  Ararat,  for  the  night    The  second  day  ended  at  Hamilton,  70  m.,— 

'  the  first  so  m.  being  covered  in  5  h.  lo  min.  of  the  forenoon,— but  on  the  oatskirta  of  the  town 
they  found  the  local  dub  awaiting  them  with  a  stack  of  bottled  lager,  and,  after  thb  intvoda^ 
tion,  *'a  drag  and  four"  took  the  entire  company  out  to  aupper  at  Wannon  Falls,  xi^bi.  In 
spite  of  a  rainy  night,  82  m.  were  covered  on  the  third  day,  the  last  14  m.,  to  Camperdown, 
being  done  in  the  daricness  without  a  dismount.  A  previous  stretch  of  14  m.,  to  Terang^  «aa 
covered  in  1  h.  12  min.  The  fourth  day's  record  was  75  m.,  to  Geelong,  makiqg  a  total,  iodnd- 
ing  detours,  of  300  m.  Breakfast  on  that  final  day  waa  at  Colac,  after  29  m.  The  lake  and 
mountain  scenery  of  the  route  was  highly  praised. 

The  two  Adelaide  men  mentioned  in  the  above  tour  were  A.  Gault  and  R.  C  Cos,  wbo  had 
recently  (Mar.  21-29)  pushed  their  bicydes  across  from  A.  to  M.,  508  m.,  except  that  they  took 
train  from  Kingston  to  Narracoorte,  53  m.  of  unridable  awamps  and  sand  hills.  Mr.  G.,  after 
a  day  with  the  Melbourne  tourists,  returned  by  train  to  M.  and  thenoe  by  boat  to  A. ;  while  Mr. 
C,  after  two  days  with  the  party,  retraced  his  former  route  akme  by  wheel  and  train  to  A. 
The  pioneer  tour  between  the  two  capitals  had  been  taken  3  mos.  earlier  (Christmas,  '84),  by  A. 
H.  Padman,  of  A.,  who  wheeled  495  m.,  but  resorted  to  the  train  from  K.  to  N.,  "bccaase 
assured  that  a  previous  tourist,  Mr.  Nimmo,  had  done  this,  and  that  the  53  m.  stretdi  iadoded 
at  least  12  m.  of  positively  unridable  sand,  and  3  or  4  m.  of  awamp,  a  or  3  ft.  deep."  A  pait 
of  this  bad  stretch  was  tried,  in  the  opposite  directum,  by  W.  J.  S.  Story,  wbo,  on  Jan.  14,  *8s, 
wheeled  from  Ml  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  00  the  xsth,  tramped  aa  m.  through  the  aanda  and 
swamps  and  along  the  r.  r.  ties  to  Ludndale,  where  he  waa  glad  to  Uke  train  for  K.  Thenoe. 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  i6th,  he  wheeled  33  m.  to  Coolatoo,  along  with  the  mail  ooadi,  thoiigh 
much  of  the  road  was  bad ;  and  then  the  drivers  of  the  coach,  aa  a  practical  joke,  forcibly  pot 
him  and  his  bicycle  on  top  thereof,  and  insisted  on  having  his  company  to  Meningie,  60  m., 
through  the  night,  during  which  the  thunder  storms  raged  until  all  were  soaked.  On  the  xTth,  a 
to  8  r.  M.,  he  poshed  through  heavy  sand  to  Wellington,  28  m. ;  and  on  the  x8th,  9.30  a.  K.  to 
xo  P.  M.,  by  67  m.  of  generally  good  roads  to  Adelaide ;  total  aas  m.    Bad  aa  ia  thia  route  fras 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS. 


561 


Wcttbvtoa,  akmg  the  Cocmmg,  Um  <m]y  alterudve  »  a  woTM  (me,  £or  U  leads  ^^ 
desert  to  Boideotown."  His  report  of  this  tour  was  printed  in  ^ .  C  New,  Apr.  1 1,  '85  which 
«lao  Gontabed  the  first  part  of  A.  Gault's  report,  that  ran  through  successive  numbers  to  May  23 ; 
wfaUe  A.  H.  Fadnan's  report  likewise  occupied  3  or  4  issues,  beginning  Jan.  17.  The  daily  milel 
age  of  the  Gault  and  Coz  ride  stood  thus :  3a,  S9. 59, 3",  56, 41,  76. 103. 45 ;  and  all  three  reports 
«ive  mnch  interesting  evidence  to  show  that  touring  through  South  Australia  U  rather  more  dlffi. 
cult  than  in  Victoria,  whose  Western  District  seems  to  contain  a  greater  mileage  of  good  roads 
than  any  othersection  of  the  continent  Ballanu  ia  a  sort  of  center  or  starthig-point  in  this  sys- 
tern,  and  the  B.  B.  &  T.  C.  (oig.,  '79)  is  second  in  age  only  to  the  Melbourne  B  C  and  b 
almost  eqnaUy  active  in  the  promotion  of  tours.  The  BaOarat  Ctmrier  of  Feb.  ao,'»84*'gave  a 
cokunn  account  of  the  dub's  annual  ride  of  40s  m.,  Feb.  lo-,;.  participated  in  by  three  pai«  of 
biother.,-R.  A.  &  T.  H.  Thompson,  H.  P.  &  G.  H.  Shimmin,  T.  &  E.  Miller,-of  whom  the 
first-namedwascaptain  and  the  last  named  was  "a  boy  not  yet  16  years  old,  who  rode  the  whole 
way  without  showing  any  signs  of  fatigue."  So  large  a  party  had  not  previously  taken  so  long 
a  ride  in  Victoria ;  and  all  the  local  clubs  gave  them  warm  greetings.  The  mUeage  of  the  t 
days  was  thus  distributed :  Geelong,  S4;  Colac,  46;  Warmambool,  74;  Caramut,  36  ("the 
last  18  m.  like  a  race  track ") ;  Hamilton,  33  ;  Ararat,  67 ;  to  Stawell  and  back,  36 ;  Ballarat, 
56.  A  thunder  storm  on  the  last  day  supplied  the  only  rain  of  the  lour,  though  gieat  heat  pre- 
mailed  at  the  start.  On  the  third  day,  "  when  we  enter  the  Stony  Rises  (a  wonderful  succes- 
sion  of  hUte  and  dales,  covered  with  ferns  and  native  shrabs),  the  impetus  we  get  going 
^wn  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 
aame  party  (except  that  J.  Ronaldson  look  the  Thompsons*  place)  wheeled  a7o  m.  together,  besides 
having  a  steamboat  ride  from  Geelong  to  Melbourne.  The  first  day,  to  Bolac,  60  m.,  included 
30  m.  of  dismal  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  min. ;  and  he  did  it  again,  Oct.  14,  in  company  with  R.  A.  Thompson,  also  in  n  h.  57  min. 
■C.  M.  Bennett,  of  the  same  club,  with  favorable  roads  and  weather,  made  too  m.,  Feb.  10,  *86, 
fai  10  h.  3a  min.,  which  included  x\  h.  for  rests.  He  used  a  50  in.  British  CHiallenge ;  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  f  xo  trophy  in  May,  for  having  attended  every  weekly  club-run  for  6  mos.,— ^he 
second  prize  of  $5  going  to  G.  H.  Shimmin,  who  was  alxsent  but  once.  The  Easter  tour  in 
'86  of  the  Garlton  B.  C,  led  through  Ballarat  to  (Geelong,  340  m.  in  5  days,  and  the  participants 
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.  Keefe,  an  English  visitor.  From  the  second 
part  of  his  report  {A.  C.  Netus,  Jan.  31,  '85),  I  find  that  the  last  343  m.  were  distributed  through 
S  days,  thus :  Dec.  33,  Tarcutta,  55 ;  24th,  Colac,  48 ;  asth,  Bogalong,  35 ;  36th,  Gunning,  44 ; 
STth,  Goalborn,  30;  28th,  Miltagong,  55;  39th,  Liverpool,  54;  30th,  at  10  a.  m.,  Sydney,  aa. 
'  Intense  heat  was  the  chief  hindrance  to  quicker  progress.  On  Nov.  36,  '83,  C.  Oeensides  and  J. 
Geofge  of  Castlemaine  won  the  gold  medals  offered  by  their  dub,  for  doing  too  m.  inside  of  la  h., 
by  riding  from  C.  to  Melbourne,  5.30  a..m.  to  5.20  p.  m.  They  covered  the  first  37  m.  in  a  h. 
as  oaa, ,  and  the  first  49  m. ,  to  Kyneton ,  inside  of  5  h.    Their  rests  amounted  to  x  h. ,  and  their  last 

10  m.  were  done  in  exactly  i  h.    On  Dec.  30,  '83,  A.  C.  Destree,  S.  A.  Mott,  and .  Ony,  of 

Hamilton,  rode  thence  to  Colac,  1x3  m.,  6  a.  m.  to  5.35  p.  m., — doing  the  first  100  m.  in  10  h. 
93  min.  The  two  former  reached  H.  again  at  5.45  p.  m.  of  Jan.  x,  with  a  record  of  364  m.  A 
few  days  earlier,  J.  A.  Little,  sec.  of  the  Ararat  B.  C,  starting  at  6  a.  m.,  reached  Ballarat  at 
noon  and  Le^h  Rood  before  dark,  tos  m.,  in  9  h.  36  min.  of  actual  riding ;  next  day,  to  (Seeloag, 
15  m.,  in  I  h.  ra  min.,  and,  on  third  day,  to  Melbourne,  43  m.,  in  4  h.  55  min., — a  total  of  x6o  m., 
tni5  h.  43  min.  of  actual  riding.  Prom  a  list  of  38  Australian  too  m.  road-rides,  to  the  dose  of 
*l4  (prewired  for  me  fay  a  Melbourne  subscriber  and  printed  in  H^httlmtn?*  GatetU,  July,  'Ss. 
98 


56a 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


p.  43),  I  take  the  following  8  of  '83,  as  being  the  only  ones  not  elsewhere  mentxned  by  me  !• 
greater  detail :  Jan.  i,  A.  Bartram,  of  Carlton  B.  C,  11:58;  May  24,  in  Tasmania  C'ri&g 
time")*  H. Knight,  10:55;  F*  Turner,  10:58;  ^— .  Hodgman,  11^49;  SepL  18,  at  Metbourac, 
a  Walker,  11:4;  T.  B.  Bason,  11:55;  A.  L.  Wood,  11:55;  Dec.  28,  J.  S.  Foolkea,  10:15. 
The  same  letter  said  that  the  best  day's  ride  on  a  tri.  whidi  had  then  been  taken  hx  Victoiia 
was  accredited  to  R.  J.  Paiiur,  Nov.  a,  *83,  90  m.,  in  lo^  h.,  when  the  breaking  of  — ***i-r 
prevented  a  too  m.  record. 

About  the  close  of  Mar.,  '85,  a  Miss  Bouchier  and  two  other  young  ladies,  of  Ballant»  drone 
their  tricycles  to  Melbourne,  nearly  100  m.,  in  a  single  day;  and  their  report  in  the  BaUarwi 
CoHTter  said :    "As  to  the  effects  of  the  ride,  we  all  felt  much  better  during  the  Utter  povt  of 
the  journey  than  in  the  middle  of  it,  for  the  number  of  exceedingly  steep  hills  at  the  out&st,  19 
which  we  had  to  shove  our  machines,  tended  greatly  to  exhaust  us,  and  proved  more  fatigniBg 
than  the  whole  of  the  work  on  the  machines.     None  of  the  party  fslt  any  distressing  effecs  the 
next  day,  and  the  whole  trip  was  a  very  pleasant  one. "   Similar  testimony  was  given  {A .  C  Iftma^ 
Nov.  7,  '85,  pp.  8>9o)  by  Miss  £.  M.  Thomfeldt,  in  reporting  "  the  longest  tri.  trip  y^t  taken 
by  ladies  in  Victoria  "  :  From  Stawell  to  Ararat,  Oct.  16, 4  to  8  p.  m.  ,  iS  m. ,  through  inteaae  hsat ; 
tlience  to  Ballarat,  58  m.,  on  xyth,  and  home  to  S.,  on  19th,  5  a.  m.  to  10  p.  si., — a  three  6xpf 
ride  of  152  m.    "  Almost  incredible  as  it  seems,  ws  were  no  more  tirsd  after  ths  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  bock 
kind  and  respectful  to  us ;  and  we  were  in  fact  escorted  almost  every  yard  of  the  ioomey,  either  bf 
family  friends  or  by  members  of  the  local  clubs, — ^not  to  mention  the  protection  of  oar  Ktlle 
dog, '  Dandy,'  who  showed  more  weariness  than  we  ourselves  felt.    We  each  rode  a  48  in.  nai^ 
steering  Cheyleamore  Club,  and  both  machines  stood  the  journey  splendidly.    The  bat  8  m. 
were  accomplished  in  )  h., — a  glorious  moonlight  finish  for  the  trip."    The  writer's  father,  Bi. 
Thomfeldt,  pushed  a  tricycle  straightaway  to  Sydney  about  750  m..  Mar.  8-24,  '86,  as  detaflsd 
Uiter  (pp  565-6).    Another  elderly  rider,  Geo.  R.  Broadbent,  took  the  eariiest  tri.  tour  in  Vic- 
toria, some  time  before  the  close  of  '84,— Melbourne  to  Murchison,  94  m.,— which  was  in 
to  135  m.  on  the  return,  when  bad  weather  forced  a  resort  to  the  train.    His  letter  to  me, 
at  Crowle  Villa,  Flemington  Bridge,  Hothara  Hill,  Melbourne,  Apr.  iS,  '85,  said  :    "  Tho^ 
a  grandfather,  I  am  a  great  enthusiast  at  cycling,  which  is  truly  '  the  king  of  sports ' ;  axtd  nodb> 
bg  suits  me  better  than  a  good  long  ride.    In  '83,  I  wheeled  considerably  more  than  $000  ol; 
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  iSoo  m."    Hb  compktt 
record  for  '85  was  6814  m.,  distributed  through  345  days,  making  a  daily  average  of  x8i  m.    la 
the  following  sumnuuy  of  it,  the  figures  daow  respectively  riding  days,  monthly  mileage,  longest 
day's  ride,  and  largest  weekly  mileage  t    Jan.,— 27, 518,  50, 157;  Feb.,— 2S,  621,  45, 164 ;  Mar., 
—31,  688,  50,  165 ;  Apr.,— 29,  602,  70,  159;   May,— 30,  541,  50.  «33  ;  June,— 24,  367,  so,  104: 
July,— 28,  496.  46,  X40;  Aug.,— 31,  58S,  50,  137;  Sept.,— 23,  604,  73,  iSa;  Oct,— 30.  585,  43. 
X54 ;  Nov.,— 29,  585,  60,  20X ;   Dec,— 30,  619,  50,  151.    This  ii  an  exhibit  of  very  evenly^Ss- 
tributed  riding,  appropriate  for  an  elderiy  man,  absorbed  in  business  cares.    I  copy  it  from  the 
A .  C.  Neufs  (Jan.  t6,  '86),  which  says  that  the  costs  for  wear  and  tear  of  his  machine  dnrii^  the 
6814  m.  were  ^38.    The  three  years*  wheeling  of  this  enthusiastic  "  grandfather  "  asDounted,  m 
may  be  seen,  to  17,600  m.    From  earlier  issues  of  the  Neua,  I  learn  that  on  Nov.  a,  "85,  C 
Neuhoffer  rode  from  Sandhurst  to  Melbourne,  100  ro.,  between  6.30  a.  m.  and  5.30  p.  m.,  thns 
winning  one  of  the  gold  medals  offered  to  those  members  of  the  Sandhurst  C  C.  who  could 
cover  the  distance  in    11  h.     The  weather  was  perfect,  and  the  roads  were  in  vety  fair 
order,— the  first  14  m.  being  covered  in  x  h.    J.  W.  Tonkin  and  S.   Keam  also  accoopaaied 
him,  except  that  they  reached  M.  a  little  too  hte  for. the  medal;   white   M.  £.  Gilbert, 
the  fourth  member  of  the  party,  withdrew  near  Kyneton,  the  half-way  point,  because  his 
bicycle  broke,  in  fork,  head  and  tire.    The  firal  of  the  club's  medals  was  won  by  T.  Goyoc^ 
about  a  fortnight  eariier ;  and  the  third,  on  Nov.  19,  by  W.  Upstill,  who  wheeled  firon  S  l» 
M.,  in  io|  h.,  ending  at  5.15  r.  M.,  and  who  found  all  the  roads  in  fine  cooditioBt 


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., 
'83  (500  m.,  already  described),  was  one  of  510  ro.,  io  8  days,  accredited  to  A.  £.  Roberta ;  but  on 
£>cc  23,  Roland  O.  Bishop,  who  had  not  then  completed  his  i6th  year,  began  a  fortnight's 
tour  of  662I  m.  (12  days  of  actual  riding)  thus :    23rd,  South  Yarra  to  Geelong,  54 ;  24th,  Bun^ 
inyong,  47 ;  26tb,  Wickliffe,  67  ;  a7th,  Hamilton,  44 ;  28th,  Wannon  Falls  and  Penshurst,  41I ; 
a9th,  Warmambool,  45 ;  30th,  Kalora,  46;  3i8t,  Colac,  56  (first  14  m.  to  Terang,  in  i  h.);  Jan. 
2xkd»  Geelong,  66 ;  3rd,  Melbourne,  52 ;  4th,  Keilor  and  back,  24 ;  5th,  Kyneton  and  back  to  S. 
Yarra,  108.    This  last  was  a  longer  day's  nde  than  any  on  his  two  years'  record,  8296  m.  in  628 
days  (4176  m.  in  297  days  of  '82,  and  4120  m.  in  331  days  of  '83) ;  and  I  've  already  noted  his 
best  straightaway  stay  iu  the  saddle, — 52  m.  in  4^  h.,  G.  to  M.,  Pec.  14.    He  rode  a  54  ia. 
Matchless  during  the  tour,  and  was  highly  pleased  with  it ;  and  he  was  accompanied  for  530  m. 
by  Wm.  Harrison.    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  liad  taken  7,134,724  strokes  at  the 
pedals,  in  forcing  3,567,362  revolutions  of  the  driver,  and  208,684,080  revolutions  of  the  18  in. 
rear  wheel.    The  following  b  a  summary  of  bis  riding  days  and  mileage  for  each  month— the 
first  pair  of  numerals  standing  for  '82,  the  second  for  '83  ;    Jan. — o,  o ;  29,  671 ;  Feb. — lo,  66 ; 
19,329;  Mar.— 30,  33a;  27,400;  Apr.— 26,  443;  28,464;  May^23,  289;  31,378;  June— 30, 
331;  22,252;  July— 28,  329;  30,3";  Aug.— 28,  394;   3«,  »84;  Sept.— 30,  377 ;   28,275;  Oct. 
— 3*1  463;  3«»  3";   Nov.— 30,  426;  30,  309;   Dec— 31,  726I;   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  Suakeshanks  to  H.,  loi  m.,  in  11  h.  i9min. ;  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  24i  shows  a  total  of  i3i353  m.,  dating  from  Feb.,  '82,  when  I  took  my  first  ride,  at 
the  age  of  15.    My  longest  record  for  a  day  is  112  m.,  and  for  a  week  473  m.     I  have  ridden 
in  4  tri.  races  and  won  3 ;  have  given  4  exhibitions  of  trick  riding,  at  Hobart  and  Launceston  ; 
now  hold  record  for  3,  4  and  5  m.  on  grass,  and  for  i  and  2  m.  on  board  track  ;  have  started  at 
scratch  in  most  races,  and  won  trophies  to  value  of  f6oo.    I  now  ride  51  in.  Rudge.    My  em- 
ployment is  that  of  agent  for  the  Davis  Sewing  Machine  Co.,  which  has  ofilices  at  Hobart, 
Launceston,  Melbourne,  Sandhurst,  Geelong  and  Warmambool.     I  was  for  some  time  capt 
of  the  Marmion  C.  C,  of  this  town,  and  sec.  nf  the  Tasmanian  Cyclists'  Union,  and  was  the 
founder  of  both.    I  send  you  the  Teumemian  l/ems  of  June  6,  which  devotes  a  column  to  me." 
His  successor,  as  capt.  of  the  Marmion  C.  C,  Thos.  F.  Hallam,  wrote  to  roe  thus :  "  I 
purchased  a  bicycle  Sept.  6,  '83,  when  I  was  t8  years  old,  and  have  ridden  it  x  1,800  miles,  up  to 
this  present  day,  Aug.  10,  '85,— my  longest  )ourney  being   zoo  ro.,  in  joh.  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  metaled.    I  have  competed  in  21  other  races,  winning  13  first,  5  second  and  3  third 
prijces."    On  Sept.  28,  '85,  he  rode  100  m.  straightaway,  in  9  h.  9  min.— being  2  min.  less  than 
the  record  ride  of  F.  W.  Briggs,  of  Warmambool,  Jan.  31,  '84.    The  vice-capt.  of  the  same  club, 
P.  J.  Bowen  (builder  and  (Sontractor  of  Campbell  St.,  who  pledged  a  dozen  subscribers  to  this 
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  3 1.    Cycling  has  lately  been  making  rapid  strides  here,  as  a  popu- 
lar pastime.    The  little  '  Excursionists'  Guide '  which  I  enclose  will  show  you  that  the  road 
stretching  northward  12 z  m.  across  the  island  to  Launceston,  our  second  important  port  and  the 
nearest  to  Melbourne  on  the  oppoMte  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  10  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  100  m.  rides  is  12  m. 
from  L.  and  i  m.  s.  of  the  village  of  Perth,  and  the  finish  is  at  S.  Bridge  water,  9  m.  n.  of  H. 


564  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCI^E. 

Our  club  offers  a  gold  medal  to  each  member,  the  first  time  be  covers  the  distance  inside  o£  12  k 
I  myself  did  this,  in  10  h.  48  min.,  Oct.  16,  '83,  only  3  mos.  after  learning  bow  to  ride.  Sz  dhefs 
have  also  taken  the  medal :  T.  F.  Hallam,  J.  Needham  (to  b.  48  min.,  Oct.  16,  '83X  G.  Ann- 
ing,  G.  Gregory,  T.  N.  Spong  and  R.  O.  Bishop.  In  the  50  m.  road-race  of  2  moa.  ago^  vbes 
a  medal  was  given  to  all  who  did  the  distance  in  s  h.,  I  reached  the  finish  in  4I  h.  — choqgli  I 
had  a  broken  pedal  for  the  last  37  m.,  which  forced  me  to  walk  up  the  hills.  This  was  tike  ic- 
sult  of  a  bad  fall,  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  dub  are  held,  is 
the  following  order,  by  T.  F.  Hallam,  C.  Barlow,  R.  O.  Bishop,  T.  N.  Spong  and  W.  Rice." 
WfueliHg  of  Sept.  8,  '86,;nentioned  that  Bishop  had  recently  lowered  the  reoord  to  3  h.  44  mia.. 
though  making  a  stop  for  lunch.  The  first  long  tri.  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  bosineasat  L. 
and  two  nights  were  spent  there, — ^the  first  and  fourth  nights  being  spent  at  CampbeUtovm,  81 
m.  from  H.  The  A.  C.  News  of  Jan.  30  and  Mar.  13,  '86  (pp.  188,  336)  gave  a  pleasant  rcpoi 
of  a  Christmas  tour  along  this  road,  by  W.  R.  Roberts,  of  Ballarat,  who  was  cfaamned  by  the 
grandeur  of  the  scenery,  especially  along  the  southern  half  of  it,  where  much  hiU-dimbiB^  was 
required.  The  steamship  passage  from  Melbourne  to  L.  was  34  h.  He  found  the  hotels  lalber 
inferior  and  high-priced,  and  he  took  several  short  exclusions  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  laSa  m.  00  a  tricyde 
before  his  return.  His  tri.  ride  of  Oct.  16,  '83,  120  m.  in  20  h.  (incl.5^  h.  of  rests),  compriKd 
100  m.  in  16  h.  (inch  3^  h.  of  rests),  and  was  called  "  the  longest  and  fastest  straightaway  tii 
ride  in  Australia  "  at  the  close  of  '84,  by  a  writer  who  said  the  scene  thereof  was  '*  1}  picked 
road  on  the  north  shore  at  Sydney. "  Whether  this  phrase  was  designed  to  signify  a  conrM  of 
i(  m.  or  a  longer  one,  it  could  hardly  signify  a  real  straightaway  course  of  120  m.  Mr.  C  «ai 
cd.  of  the  AusiraliaH  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.  29,  '85,  was  as  follows :  '*  Our  most  awidiwai 
rider  here  is  W.  R.  Geoi^ge,  who  is  out  wheeling  daily,  all  the  year  round.  He  has  sons  aad 
a  daughter, — grown  up,  and  all  cyclists, — and  we  sometimes  call  him  '  the  father  of  cyding  in 
this  colony,'  besides.  The  Rev.  Geo.  Martin  and  Mr.  F.  G.  Sloper  are  two  other  eVktly 
enthusiasts  of  the  tri. ,  who  are  on  their  machines  nearly  every  day.  1  myself,  though  now  in  mj 
34th  year,  rank  among  the  oldest  of  racing  men,  for  I  possess  first  prises  won  in  hi.  races  of 
July,  '72,  in  England.  I  was  one  of  the  originators  of  the  old  Surrey  B.  C,  of  London,  and  aa 
a  life-member  of  it  My  height  is  5  ft.  1 1^  in.,  and  my  weight  is  180  lbs.  1  gained  i^  lbs.  dar- 
ing the  tour  to  Melbourne, — whereof  my  reports,  as  printed  in  ^ .  C.  Nrws^  are  hereby  for- 
warded to  you.  Mr.  Alf.  Exi wards,  who  took  the  same  trip  3  mos.  ahead  of  me,  says  he  vnQ 
write  you  an  account  direct."  I  regret  that  no  such  account  has  ever  come  to  me ;  but  I  lean 
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  nsaking  the 
longest  straightaway  trail  then  known  in  Australia.  The  Sydney  B.  C.  honored  the  event  bjr 
voting  a  commemdrative  medal,  which  was  presented  to  him  at  a  public  dinner,  Apr.  11,  *8s. 
From  A.  C.  News  of  Aug.  30,  '84, 1  condense  Mr.  C's  13  days'  itinerary,  with  mileage,  thus: 
"  Aug.  14,  Campbelltown,  33  (last  14  bad);  isth,  Mittagong,  47  O^utt  27,  all  up-hill  and  last  16 
in  rain);  i6th,  Marulam,  37;  17th,  beyond  Goulbum,  25;  i8th,  Yass,  47;  19th,  Jugioog.  43: 
20th,  Mundarloo,  46 ;  21st,  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  Tom. 
44 ;  s$th,  Seymour,  $2 ;  26th,  Melbourne,  62  (through  continuous  rains  and  bitter  blasts  of 
wind).  The  weather  %iras  disagreeable  and  unfavorable,  except  for  two  days ;  and  of  the  road* 
traversed  (583  m.  by  Stanton's  log,  incl.  slight  detours),  100  m.  were  good,  400  m.  middfiag  to 
fair,  and  the  rest  utterly  unridable."  During  18  days'  stay  in  and  about  M.,  he  rode  lai  m.,  ia 
■  company  with  local  wheelmen,  who  treated  him  with  great  consideration,— escorting  him  is 
through  16  m.  of  rain  on  his  arrival,  and  going  out  with  him  when  he  began  the  return  trip,  at 
3  p.  M.  of  Sept.  13,  as  far  as  Wallan.  30  m.    The  mileage  for  the  next  1 1  days  stood  thus :  "  i4tk. 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS  565 

A^cndale,  45;  15th,  Benalla,  50;  16th,  Chiltern,  49;  17th  (crossed  the  border  bridge  from 
Wodonga  into  N.  S.  W.,  30  m.  from  start),  Bowna,  35 ;  i8th,  Billabong,  42  ;  19th,  Gundagai,  66 
(5.30  A.  M.  to  ia45  P*  M.,  longest  ride  of  tour,  despite  bad  roads  and  delay  10  repair  wheel, 
budded  by  bad  fall  in  careless  down-hill  riding) ;  20th,  Bookliam,  46  (over  3  big  ranges  of  hills) ; 
axst.  Gunning,  46  (last  26,  worst  of  route);  23nd,  Marulam,  52  (20  by  lantern);  asrd,  Picton,  6a 
(7.30  A.  M.  to  10  r.  M. ;  first  28  m.  were  bad,  but  a  decline  of  1500  ft.  in  the  last  aS  m.  made 
such  pleasant  riding  that  even  a  thunder  shower  could  not  mar  the  enjoyment) ;  24lh,  Sydney, 
53.  On  this  last  day,  I  started  just  after  midnight  and  got  over  Mt.  Razorback,  into  Camden, 
12  m.,  at  3.40 ;  camped  out  there  on  a  hotel  veranda  until  $,  then  rode  8  m.  to  Campbelltown, 
for  a  poor  breakfast,  and  during  the  next  7  m.  had  such  an  attack  of  illness  that  I  gave  up  hope 
of  pushing  any  further ;  but,  after  a  while,  I  felt  better,  and  jogged  slowly  into  Sydney  at  8.30 
p.  M.  My  Stanton's  log  made  9  revolutions  of  61  m.  each  and  29  m.  more, — a  total  of  578  m. 
Adding  the  5S3  m.  of  outward  trip,  and  121m.  made  between,  the  whole  mileage  from  Aug.  14  to 
Sept.  24  was  12S2.  My  tool-bag  and  baggage  weighed  23  lbs.  On  the  outward  trip,  my  Cheyles- 
more  Club  tri.  went  through  without  any  breakage  or  loosening.  On  the  return,  I  used  a  '  two 
track  Club,'  double  driver,  front  steerer,  and  I  praise  it  for  showing  no  sign  of  weakness  for  the 
302  miles  following  the  accident  which  buckled  one  wheel.  My  mackintosh  coat  also  got  wound 
up  in  the  chain,  four  days  earlier,  and  loosened  it ;  but  I  was  able  to  tighten  the  chain  into  work- 
ing order  again,  though  the  coat  was  utterly  destroyed.'* 

Five  days  behind  this  pioneer  tricycler,  on  his  outward  journey,  were  two  youthful  acquaint- 
ances of  his,  from  the  Redfem  B.  C. ,  on  bicycles, — Jas.  F.  Rugg,  its  secretary,  and  Geo.  L. 
Budds, — who  printed  a  report  of  their  tour  in  the  A.  C.  Nrws  of  Sept.  13.  The  latter  rode  a 
$2  in.  Columbia  (No.  4142),  which  he  had  been  using  for  2  years  previously  and  which  went 
through  without  mishap,— staying  safely  on  the  bridge  while  he  took  a  header  into  a  creek,  on 
the  6ch  day  of  the  tour.  On  the  previous  day,  his  companion,  who  rode  a  5a  in.  Club,  new, 
look  a  bad  header  on  a  steep  down-grade,  disabling  the  brake ;  and,  on  the  final  day,  his  spring 
snapped,  just  behind  the  saddle,  so  that  about  60  m.  of  "  backbone  jolting  "  Iiad  to  be  endured. 
**  Despite  the  bad  state  of  the  roads,  adverse  winds,  and  lack  of  previous  training,  both  enjoyed 
the  tour  immensely  and  finished  in  perfect  health.  The  best  meal  of  the  trip  was  had  at  Vin- 
cent's hotel  in  Colac  (50  c.) ;  and  the  return  to  Sydney  wa»made  by  express  train  (19  h.),  as  our 
leave-of-absence  lasted  but  a  fortnight."  The  total  mileage  (582  for  13  days,  inch  6  m.  for 
detours)  was  divided  thus  :  Aug.  19,  8  a.  m.  to  5.45  p.  m.,  Camden,  41 ;  20th,  Mittagong,  36 
(nearly  2000  ft.  above  the  sea  level  of  the  start);  21st,  9.40  to  7.30,  Goulburn,  55 ;  22nd,  7. 15  to 
8,  Yass,  55  (frost  and  bitter  cold  at  start);  23rd,  7  to  6,  Jugiong,  39;  24th,  9.30  to  7,  Adelong 
Crossing,  37 ;  25th,  8.30  to  8,  Kyamba,  46^  (tet.  station  ;  no  hotel) ;  26th,  9  to  4,  Germanton, 
36  (rain) ;  17th,  9.30  to  3.15,  Albury,  38 ;  38th,  8  to  5,  Wangaretta,  47 ;  29th,  7.15  to  7.30,  Violet 
Town,  43  ;  30th,  3.30  to  7,  Avenal,  41 ;  3isl,  7  a.  m.  to  11.45  p.  m.,  Melbourne,  72.  The  lour 
•f  W.  Hume  and  H.  G.  Keefe,  at  the  end  of  Dec., '84  (described  on  p.  561),  was  the  earliest  bi. 
ride  made  on  this  route  in  the  opposite  direction,  M.  to  S. ;  and  no  one  seems  to  have  gone 
ever  it  at  all  daring  '85. 

In  Mar.,  ^86,  however,  it  was  again  traversed  by  a  pair  of  elderly  Victorians,  on  bi.  and  tri., 
who  "  made  the  longest  straightaway  trail  in  Australia,"  about  670  m.,  in  17  da>'s,  and  had  dry 
weather  throughout  the  trip.  They  were  5  days  in  doing  their  first  202  m.,  from  Stawell  to 
Violet  Town  (which  is  only  1x3  m.  from  Melbourne) ;  and  thence  to  Sydney  they  followed  the 
route  of  the  earlier  tourisu.  This,  by  the  mileages  latest  quoted,  was  463  m.,  but  they  added  at 
least  s  ra-  to  it,  by  losing  the  way  near  Liverpool.  At  the  end  of  their  first  week,  when  about 
375  m.  had  been  traversed,  a  third  companion,  the  little  dog,  "  Dandy,"  began  to  grow  footsore 
and  weary ;  and  he  was  thenceforth  allowed  to  ride  on  the  tri.  during  many  miles  of  bad  going 
when  the  owner  had  to  walk  and  push  it.  Sometimes  also  he  was  given  a  ride  when  the  owner 
rode,'-betng  packed  in  the  valise  with  the  other  baggage,— but,  at  Yass,  187  m.  from  the  finish, 
an  agent  was  instructed  to  catch  the  belated  dog  on  his  arrival  and  forward  him  by  train  to 
Sjfdney.  The  subsequent  fate  of  **  Dandy  "  is  not  told  in  the  record  from  which  I  quote,— this 
fooord  being  in  the  shape  of  sheet-reprints  from  six  double-column  articles  in  the  weekly  Ntw$ 


566  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

^  Chronicle,  of  Suwell,  written  by  the  projector  of  the  tour,  M.  Thomfddt,  and  givu^  fuif 
full  details  of  the  670  m.  traversed.  He  alludes  to  himself  as  having  taken  a  loung  oontract  so 
build  a  brick  bridge  at  Sandhurst  ("  Bendigo"),  in  '58,  "  when  hb  knowledge  of  the  Eni^iafc 
language  was  very  limited,"  and  when  he  "  used  to  congregate  with  his  compatriots,  on  Sazur- 
day  nights,  at  the  '  Stadt  Hamburg  *  tavern,  and  take  part  in  the  strange  babel  of  tongues  wfaidt 
prevailed  there."  I  infer  from  this  that  h:  is  a  German,  aged  about  50;  and  I  have  alrcafdy 
recorded  (p.  56a)  the  tri.  tour  taken  by  his  grown-up  daughter,  in  Oct.,  '85.  He  menliosis  a 
pleasant  tri.  tour  of  his  own,  through  Western  Viaoria,  in  the  summer  of  '8$,  as  inspiring  the 
later  one ;  and  he  secured  as  a  companion  C.  H.  Lyne,  of  Ararat,  who  rode  a  Club  Safety  hi, 
while  he  himself  used  a  rear-steering  Cheylesmore  Club  tri.  Both  machines  were  as  good  at  the 
finish  (after  about  750  m.)  as  at  the  start,  and  neither  rider  suffered  any  accident, — except  that 
the  tri.  once  upset  the  bi.  by  a  careless  collision.  "  Why  should  two  old  blokes  like  you  be  gou^ 
about  the  country  in  knickerbockers  and  on  them  things  ?  "  was  the  pleasant  greeting  of  a  way- 
side landlady,  on  the  third  day ;  and  on  the  stJi,  a  wagon-driver  whose  horses  took  fright  at  the 
tri.,  seemed  greatly  amused  at  it,  when  he  got  them  under  control,  and  remarked  :  '*  Thoai^ 
you  don't  look  like  a  big  man,  you  must  have  a  great  stomach  to  go  tnunping  about  the  omntry 
on  a  thing  like  that,— which  seems  to  be  a  horse  and  buggy  all  in  one."  A  good  stotnadi  was, 
indeed,  as  usual,  essential  to  pleasant  touring,  "  for  the  country  seemed  inundated  with  ooraed 
beef,"  and  in  many  cases  not  even  that  delicacy  could  be  had ;  while  at  least  two  nights  were 
devoted  to  fighting  bed-bugs.  The  only  other  live  animals  encountered  were  "  two  wallafaies 
and  a  very  large  iguana  " ;  though  a  dead  snake,  5  ft.  long,  gave  the  tri.  rider  a  great  scare  vHIkb 
he  suddenly  ran  over  it  in  the  road.  The  tourists  regulated  their  pace  simply  by  personal  coa- 
fort, — being  too  old  for  any  silly  ambition  about  "  making  a  record  for  swiftness,'* — and  iiaas^ 
they  expected  in  advance  to  average  about  50  m.  a  day,  they  were  quite  content  with  the  actual 
average  of  40  m.  Their  itinerary  was  as  follows  :  Monday,  Mar.  8,  from  7  a.  m.  tfll  aboet  6 
p.  M.,  Stawell  to  Moonambel,  40  m.  (very  tired  from  lack  of  previous  training ;  mudi  heavy  and 
sandy  road) ;  9th,  Eddington  (sandy  and  then  good,  through  undulating  fields) ;  loUi,  Sandhnm 
(breakfasted  on  grapes  in  a  fine  orchard) ;  nth,  Rushworth,  a  large  town,  reached  in  the  dark 
after  54  m.  of  hard  traveling ;  12th,  a  farm  house  within  5  m.  of  Violet  Town ;  13th,  demovaa; 
14th,  Wodonga,  54  ro.  (first  favorable  wind) ;  15th  (entering  N.  S.  W.,  by  bridge  over  tlie 
Murray,  with  no  sign  of  customs  officers),  Germanton,  43  m.  (detour  to  50  m. ;  last  10  m.  very 
fine);  16th,  private  house  called  Kelvin  Grove;  17th,  Gundagai,  50  m.,  by  bridge  |  m.  kM«; 
i8th,  Jugiong ;  19th,  Bowning,  32  m. ;  aoth,  Gunning ;  aist,  Marulam,  57m.  (throngh  Goannmy, 
at  noon,  "  the  prettiest  and  most  compactly-built  town  on  the  route  ";  aand,  Mittagong;  ajid, 
the  first  a8  m.,  to  Picton,  6.30  to  10  a.  m.,  very  enjoyable ;  then  a  3  h.  rest  before  climbing  anr 
Mt.  Razorback,  in  comparison  with  which  the  previous  hills  seemed  easy,  to  Camden,  12  m. ;  and 
finally,  after  taking  wrong  roads  in  darkness,  to  Liverpool,  a  total  of  6a  m. ;  %4ih,  reached  Syd- 
ney  about  1.30  p.  m.,  escorted  for  the  last  z6  ro.  by  a  party  of  about  40  on  bi.  and  tri.  Six  (fays 
later,  steamer  %vas  taken  for  Melbourne  (a  ride  of  65  h.,  as  compared  to  19  h.  by  train) ;  and  the 
last  stage  of  the  journey  home  to  Stawell  was  wheeled  Apr.  6^,  about  175  m.,  finishing  at  lajo 
p.  M.,  an  exact  calendar  month  from  the  start.  "  In  spite  of  some  hard  upJiill  work,  it  was  a 
most  pleasant  experience.  We  saw  a  vast  tract  of  country,  and  saw  it  better  than  any  other 
kind  of  locomotion  would  enable  us  to  do ;  and  we  did  not  feel  in  the  least  fatigued  at  the  end. 
In  fact,  I  was  less  tired  the  last  day,  riding  6a  m.,  than  the  first  day,  riding  only  forty." 


New  Zealand  lies  about  rsoo  m.  s.  e.  of  Australia,  and  its  cycling  season  lasto  from  .SepL  to 
May,  though  riders  in  the  northern  districts  are  active  for  most  of  the  other  3  mos.  Of  the  ti» 
distinct  islands  which  comprise  the  colony.  North  Island  has  Auckland  for  its  northerly  port  aad 
Wellington  for  its  port  nearest  to  South  Island.  "  Pakeha,"  the  Christchurch  cor.  of  the 
tyhtelmeM**  GaaeiUy  who  has  "been  identified  with  the  pastime  since  its  infancy"  in  the 
colony,  writing  July  18,  '85,  said :  "  Though  we  are  now  supposed  to  be  in  mid-winter,  the 
weather  has  thus  far  been  so  exceedingly  mild  that  we  can  scarcely  term  it  winter.    I  see  no 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  567 

veaaoo  why  we  should  recognize  any  '  off  season ' ;  for  the  Australians  do  not.    The  season  just 
closed  has  been  the  most  successful  recorded  in  the  colony.    The  N.  Z.  C.  Alliance  has  had  good 
luck  in  carrying  through  its  series  of  championships  (x,  5  and  10  m.),  with  faster  times ;  and  the 
number  of  riders  has  doubled, — causing  a  great  improvement  in  the  membership  and  finances  of 
the  older  dubs,  and  the  springing  up  of  new  ones."    A  year  earlier  he  wrote  (Aug.  15,  '84) : 
"  The  number  of  bicycle  riders  in  N.  Z.  is  estimated  as  at  least  1000,  though  the  clubs  do  not 
exceed  a  dozen, — the  laigest  being  at  Christchurch,  Dunedin  and  Auckland.     In  Vzi  there  were 
liardly  50  riders,  all  told,  but  the  increase  in  their  number  has  been  very  rapid  during  the  last 
3  years.    The  oldest  club  is  tlie  Pioneer  B.  C,  org.  Apr.  ao,  '79»  »'  Christchurch,  the  capital. 
The  flat  nature  of  the  country  around  C.  allows  100  m.  to  be  traversed  without  encountering  a 
•hill.    Though  some  machines  are  made  here,  most  are  imported  from  England."    His  letter  of 
May  22,  '86,  said:    "  The  advance  of  cycling  during  the  season  now  dosing  does  not  seem  to 
IkavG  been  as  great  as  I  expected.    I  attribute  this  chiefly  to  the  very  dry  summer,  which  has 
rendered  the  roads  too  loose  for  easy  riding ;  though  several  tours  have  nevertheless  been  in- 
-dttlged  in.    The  recent  extensive  popularity  won  here  by  the  safety  bi.  has  almost  entirdy  ban- 
ished the  tricycles."    Another  resident  of  that  town,  who  was  my  earliest  subscriber  in  the 
<colony,  J.  Fozley  Norris  (b.  Feb.  6,  '57),  a  law  stationer,  wrote  to  me  thus,  Apr.  26,  '84 :    **  I 
4ion't  think  it  possible  to  ride  50  m.  without  a  dismount,  here  in  N.  Z.,  owing  to  the  river  beds 
auid  shingle.    At  Easter,  '82,  I  wheeled  and  walked  from  C.  to  Dunedin,  242  ro.  (in  5  days,  3  of 
^wrhich  were  rainy),  crossing  3  mountain  ranges  and  finding  rough  roads.    This  still  remains  the 
longest  straightaway  trail,  though  J.  Fitton  made  a  tour  of  considerably  greater  mileage  at 
Christmas,  '83,  and  I  will  try  to  have  him  send  you  the  details  of  it.    The  following  have  ridden 
100  m.  in  a  day :    F.  R.  Dunsford,  H.  J.  Jenkins,  R.  W.  Mountfort,  J.  F.  Norris,  and  A.  £. 
Preece,  of  Pioneer  B.  C. ;  F.  W.  Painter,  J.  W.  Painter  and  T.  W.  May,  of  Christchurch  B. 
C  ;  and  F.  A.  Cutten,  of  Dunedin  C.  C.     Four  of  us  rode  together  to  Hurunui  and  back,  114 
n.  in  14  h.,  and  I  believe  an  account  appeared  in  one  of  the  English  wheel  papers  in  '82  or  '83. 
It  was  a  much  harder  journey  than  the  114  m.  I  rode  in  '77*  ^<k  the  Middlesex  B.  C,  from 
Bath  to  London  (East  End).    My  longest  stay  without  dismount  was  made  July  6,  '79,  in  a 
•drizzling  rain,  just  50  m.,  from  Bath  to  Newbury,  over  Box  and  Marlboro  hills ;  and  I  then  kept 
«n  to  Maidenhead,  30  m.,  for  second  dismount,   and  to  the  outskirts  of  London,  20  m.,  for 
third,— making  100  m.  in  the  day.    I  formerly  held  the  position  of  '  Mr.  Perker '  in  the  old 
Pickwick  B.  C,  of  London.    More  recently,  I  have  been  sec  of  the  Pioneer  B.  C,  and  sec.  of 
the  N.  Z.  C.  Alliance,  and  am  now  its  treasurer ;  but,  being  a  married  man  and  much  occupied 
with  bminess,  I  am  trying  to  give  up  active  club  work."    Replying  to  later  enquiries  of  mine, 
his  letter  of  Oct.  2,  '85,  dated  at  London,  said :    "  I  left  N.  Z.  in  July,  and  do  not  think  it  likely 
that  I  shall  return  there.    My  riding  began  on  a  hired  bone-shaker,  in  »74 ;  but  I  soon  bought  a 
36  in.  bone-shaker,  then  a  48  in.  Gentleman,  and  I  Ve  had  ao  madiincs  in  all.    My  mileage  for 
six  years— while  I  was  an  apprentice,  and  only  had  a  week's  holiday  at  mid-summer— stood  thus : 
»74,  131;  *75.  '05a;  'A  "05;  '77.  '664;  '78.  2546;  *79,  «676.     This  small  total  of  8274  m, 
represents  short  morning  rides  and  Saturday  afternoons  with  the  club.     Since  then,  I  »ve  not  kept 
«ount.    I  Ve  done  nodistances  worth  chronicling.     My  height  is  5  ft.  5  in.,  and  weight  140  lbs." 
The  long-distance  (Hiristmas  tour  alluded  to  in  the  foregoing  was  taken  by  J.  Fitton  (of 
Service  &  Fitton,  makers  and  importers  of  bicycles,  35  Grey  St.,  Auckland),  who  printed  a  two- 
column  report  of  it  in  the  AucMand  Herald,  of  Jan.  19,  '84.     In  the  19  days,  Dec.  25  to  Jan. 
ta,  his  cydom.  registered  6n  m.,  but,  as  it  usually  fell  short  3  m.  in  20,  he  estimated  the  dis- 
tance covered  as  702  m.    He  rode  a  52  in.  Rudge,  which  sustained  no  serious  damage,  despite 
Its  lightness  (35  lbs.),  though  he  had  a  great  many  tumbles,  one  of  which,  at  the  end  of  the  first 
week,  snapped  the  brake-handle,  so  that  he  was  forced  to  walk  down  a  good  many  ridable  hills 
during  the  next  5  days,  until  he  got  it  repaired.    The  worst  fall  of  the  trip  was  had  within  6  h. 
of  the  start,  Dec.  25,— cutting  his  hand  on  the  rough  road-metal.    On  the  5th  day,  he  reached 
-Ohinemutu,  148  m.,  after  a  straight  tramp  of  11  m.  through  the  bush,  and  from  there  took  a  de- 
tour to  the  Maori  village  (where  his  wheel  astonished  the  natives),  the  geysers  and  the  boiling 
On  the  9th  day,  Jan.  a,  xo  a.  m.  to  6  p.  m.,  Tarawera  to  Puhoi,  a$  m.,  the  road-sur- 


S68 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


face  was  good,  but  the  first  9  m.  led  np  hilt,  and  the  descents  could  not  be  ridden,  for  want  of 
brake.  At  one  of  two  creek  crossings,  he  dropped  hts  bL  and  then  jomped  into  the  water;  and 
a  similar  bath  had  been  taken  two  days  before,  in  trying  to  ride  through  a  creek.  MagnifiocBt 
▼iews  of  rough  and  rugged  country  could  be  liad  at  every  sharp  turn  in  the  moantaiik-raad. 
Napier,  his  objective  point,  323  ro.  from  A.,  was  reached  at  5  p.  m.  of  Jan.  3,  after  a  sob. 
journey,  half  of  which  was  along  the  gully  of  the  Kiwaka  creek  and  the  edges  of  the  Pecaac 
river,  where  constant  wading  was  necessary,  as  almost  50  crossings  had  to  be  made  within  n  m. 
The  only  other  route  was  the  "  telegraph  track,"  which  was  thought  to  be  even  more  difiicah. 
He  halted  a  day  in  N.,  to  get  bis  brake  repaired,  and  talk  with  local  cyders  about  the  roads  t» 
Wellington.  He  also  met  an  English  tourist,  W.  K.  Adam,  who  was  wheeling  in  the  oppoiae 
direction,  from  W.  to  the  hot  springs.  The  *'  shingled  road  "  out  of  N.  was  good  enou^  to 
allow  19  m.  in  2  h., — the  last  5  m.  in  25  min.,»and  then  a  stretch  of  32  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  6$  ol, 
the  longest  of  the  tour,  though  it  included  a  bad  and  swampy  stretch  of  iS  ro.,  where  the  tourist 
kwt  his  way  in  the  dark.  Next  day,  Jan.  6,  9.15  to  7.35,  he  rode  50  m.  to  Pahiatan,  *'hav. 
ing  nice  and  cool  wheeling  through  the  Foity  Mile  Bush  " ;  and  on  the  7th,  to  Ma&tcrtan,  47 
ai.,  in  5  h.  50  min.,  which  included  x  h.  of  stops.  He  took  train  tliere  to  Wellington,  intending 
to  wheel  back  next  day  to  M.,  over  the  Rimataka  hills ;  but,  as  rain  was  falling  then,  he  caac 
back  by  train  as  far  as  Featherston,  and  thence  wheeled  throi^sh  Masterton,  and  almig  his  for- 
mer road  to  Eketahuna,  55  m.,  11  A.  m.  to  6  p.  m.  On  the  loth,  he  kept  along  his  old  coone 
till  some  distance  beyond  Pahiatan,  and  then  turned  by  new  road  *'  through  the  famous  Mana- 
watu  Goiige,  up  which  the  wind  was  blowing  great  guns,"  to  Fielding,  60  m.,  S.2o  to  6. 15,  where 
he  took  train  to  Wanganui.  On  the  xith  and  12th,  he  rode  by  train  as  well  as  wheel,  and  00  the 
X2th  also  by  boat,  from  New  Plymouth  to  Onehunga,  whence  his  cycling  friends  escorted  lua 
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  wateiproof  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  btcyde  thence  10 
Ohinemutu,  about  150  m.,  and,  after  seeing  the  hot  lakes,  took  coach  and  steamer  to  Anckland. 
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 
Cyelia  of  Nov.  7,  '83,  as  having  ridden  43  m.  in  3  h.  20  min.  19  sec.  (at  the  Crystal  Palace  track, 
July  29,  '82),  which  was  then  a  "best  record." 

I  printed  in  the  IVhteloi  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  companyX  and  I 
now  give  an  abstract  of  the  same  :  "We  started  from  Christchurch  at  4  a.  m.  of  Feb.  3,  for 
Waiau,  85  m.  due  north,— getting  to  Karapoi,  12  m.,  in  i  h.,  and  then  by  a  better  road  to  Lath- 
field,  at  6.40,  making  our  first  dismount  here  after  26  m.,  at  the  river  KowaL  The  streams  is 
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  tUbrU  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  throi^ 
You  must  know  that  we  keep  on  our  shoes  and  stockings  at  such  fording  places,  and  dry  off  as 
we  whir]  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  rodiy 
slope  of  70  or  80  ft  sheering  down  to  the  creek  on  the  other.  After  the  hills,  we  passed 
Waikari,  46  m.,  but  our  first  real  stoppage  was  at  Hurunui,  57  m.,  just  before  xi  o'dock,  showiag 
an  average  of  8  m.  per  h.  from  the  sUrt.  A  good  breakfast  was  had  here  at  the  little  hotd,  and 
the  ride  was  resumed  at  ix  3a    (This  was  the  turning  point  in  the  114  m.  run  which  Mr.  N. 


BRITISH  AND  COLONIAL  RECORDS.  569 

I  yoQ  we  took  mth  him,  at  an  earlier  date»  and  ^ich  remained  nntH  now  the  longest  day*8 
w-cmJ  in  N.  Z.)  The  road  virtually  ends  at  H.,  but  we  pushed  on,  across  the  *  riddlings  oi 
creation,'  without  seeing  a  house  or  even  a  wire  fence,  to  the  little  dump  of  buildings  called 
Rotherham,  13  m.;  and  then,  by  xo  m.  of  the  roughest  riding  I  ever  e]q>erienced,  to  Waiau,  the 
sool  of  our  hopes,  at  3  v.  m.  We  were  met  by  a  cavalcade  of  nearly  all  the  inhabitants,  at  the 
pand  new  bridge,  about  x  m.  from  W.,  and  given  a  triumphal  entry  into  town, — some  one  in  ti. 
luiving  telegraphed  our  approach,  quite  to  our  surprise.  The  hotel-keepers  in  both  places  de- 
dined  to  take  any  pay  for  our  refreshments,  so  great  was  the  popular  interest  in  the  a£Fair. 
Starting  again  at  3.40,  we  reached  H.  at  7,  just  after  sundown ;  rode  Weka  Pass  in  the  dark,  }ust 
before  the  mdon  came  up ;  forded  the  Waipara  in  utter  darkness,  and  the  Kowai  at  11.30 ;  passed 
ICarapoi  at  1.30,  and  finished  just  before  3  a.  m.,— having  done  170  m.  within  a4  h. ,  or  46  m.  more 
tlsan  the  b^st  previous  record  in  N.  Z.  My  next  long  ride  was  on  Good  Friday,  to  Akaroa,  60 
m.,  in  company  with  F.  Cooper  and  W.  Skinner ;  but  the  head  of  my  British  Challenge  cracked 
tlsen,  so  that  I  had  to  get  it  and  myself  brought  home  by  carrier,-«4irriving  Sunday  night,  soon 
after  my  friends,  who  rode  back.  Canterbury,  in  which  our  city  lies,  has  a  greater  stretch  of  flat 
ooontry  than  the  neighboring  provincss, — there  being  some  aso  m.  contained  on  its /Aim — ^but 
there  are  no  good  roads  for  more  than  half  the  distance."  In  "  Pakeba's  "  letter  of  May  sa, 
'86,  it  was  said  that,  "  at  the  opening  of  the  year,  F.  W.  Painter,  A.  Lowry  and  — — .  Parker 
todi  a  xo  days'  tour  of  380  m.  from  Christchurch  to  Holdlika,  or  across  the  entire  country. 
Many  huge  rivers  had  to  be  forded  and  mountain  ranges  crossed,  so  that  the  journey  proved  one 
•f  con»derable  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  so,  '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  years,  after  really  securing  the  volume,— «ngaged  in 
minor  business  affairs  of  his  own.  He  is  a  native  of  Christchurch,  thoi^h  his  parents  were 
bom  in  England,  and  he  had  tiever  left  his  island-home  until  he  sailed  im  San  Francisco,  last 
July.  I  refer  to  Wm.  H.  Langdown  (b.  Nov.  x,  '64),  ex-Capt.  of  the  Pioneer  B.  C,  a  fairly 
reoof^iaable  likeness  of  whom  was  printed  in  the  Wheelmen^*  GetattU  (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.,  V^t  to  Dec,  '8a,  when  I  rode  a  U., 
10  m.  daily,  to  and  from  school,  I  must  have  covered  at  least  6000  m.,  for  I  did  not  miss  riding 
a  dosen  times,  and  I  used  to  do  about  40  m.  on  Wednesday  and  Saturday  afternoons.  First  long 
day's  ride  was  in  Apr.,  '8x,-^6  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.,— indudingtime  taken 
in  walking  over  two  river  beds.  Month  with  longest  mileage,  Nov.,  '84, — 8aa  m.  First  bi., 
bought  Oct.,  '78,  had  no  name ;  neither  had  the  second,  bought  Nov.,  '79;  3rd  was  a  special 
Qub;  4th,  a  Gentleman's  Club;  5th,  a  51  in.  D.  H.  F.  Premier;  6th,  an  Excelsior  tri. ;  7th,  a 
5a  in.  D.  E.  H.  F.  Excelsior.  On  the  latter,  I  rode  8940  m.~Nov.  x,  '84,  to  Oct.  30,  '85,—  in- 
cluding my  longest  tour  (558  m.)  as  follows :  Left  Wellington  Sept.  5,  '85,  carrying  8  lbs.  luggage 
in  knapsack,  and  rode  to  Upper  Hult,  where  I  took  train  to  Featherston,  and  rode  from  there 
to  Masterton,  making  day's  total  wheeling  48  m.  by  McDonnell's  cydom.  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.-«tones.  On  6th,  rode  to  Woodville,  50  m.  (walked  9) ;  7th, 
Takapnn,  44  m.  (walked  8);  8th,  Hastings,  48  m.,  15  of  which  I  had  to  walk  at  one  stretch, 
fth,  Napier,  is  m.  Stayed  here  until  X7th,  at  5  p.  m.,  but  reached  Waipawa,  41  m.,  that  same 
night  From  here  to  Opunake,  I  had  a  strong  head  wind,  and  it  took  me  xx  days  to  do  a34  m. 
One  day  I  walked  x8  m.  without  mounting,  and  this  was  induded  in  a  44  m.  stretch  I  had  to 
go  without  coming  across  a  hotel  One  day  I  made  only  9  ro.  on  account  of  the  wind.  During 
the  whole  trip  I  only  had  3  days  without  rain  and  none  without  wind.  From  Opunake  to  New 
Flymooth,  45  ni.,  I  did  the  disunce  in  4I  h.  including  several  stoppages.  Next  evening,  I  rode 
••t  IS  m.  to  Stratford,  and  on  the  following  morning  left  before  breakfast,  so  as  to  do  a  good 


57C 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


<lay's  ride.  When  I  had  covered  36  m.,  at  8  a.  m.,  my  crank  broke  and  I  had  to  take  the  can 
lor  Wanganui  and  the  steamer  from  there  to  Wellington.  My  total  of  separate  or  unrepealed 
road  was  454  m.  The  only  mishap  of  the  toor  was  a  spill  caused  by  a  bollock's  kicking  me  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.  Thu  was  the  first  bL  tour  evtr 
made  across  the  North  I."  (Population  of  N.  Z.,  500,000 ;  m'th  146a  m.  of  r.  r.  and  41 1 1  m.  oC  teL) 
"Australian  Pictures,"  by  Howard  Willoughby,  of  the  MeUtoume  Argus  ^  with  large  map  and 
107  illust.  from  photographs  and  sketches  (8vo,  cloth  and  gilt,  $3.50),  was  named  as  a  *'  new  book,** 
in  Oct.,  '86,  by  Scribner  &  Welford,  of  N.  Y.,  whose  adv.  says  :  "  The  author  is  thonMigfaly 
acquainted  wiih  the  scenery,  life,  products  and  business  capacities  of  the  different  parts  ol  Aus- 
tralia, and  has  tried  to  award  adequate  space  to  each  of  the  colonies."  The  Nation  (OcL  ai, 
*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  statioa, 
a,nd  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  Sydney,  though  he  gives  a  fair  idea  of  their  appearance  and  characteristks." 
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  nunterous  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  Auitralasian^  published  in  New  York  every  fourth  Saturday,  just  before 
the  closing  of  each  direct  mail  for  those  regions,  and  presumed  to  contain  the  latest  infonaatioB 
useful  for  visitors  to  the  same.  I  write  in  the  present  tense,  though  I  have  not  happened  to  sees 
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,  throi^  Peisia, 
Afghanistan,  India,  China  and  Japan,  of  T.  Stevens,— the  first  two  stages  of  whose  marvdoos 
round*the-world  hi.  tour  (San  Francisco  to  Boston,  3700  m.,  Apr.  aa  to  Aug.  4,  '84 ;  Livopoal 
to  Teheran,  4300  m..  May  a  to  Sept.  30,  '85)  have  been  detailed  at  the  opening  of  Chap.  30^— 
pp.  473.84,— which  I  wrote  a  year  ago.  "  Starting  out  from  T.  on  Mar.  10,  '86,  with  sommer 
helmet  and  low  shoes,  I  reached  Meshed  on  the  30th,  thnmgh  2  ft  of  snow, — after  an  almoit 
continuous  struggle  with  the  elements,  which  made  all  troubles  of  the  previous  8000  m.  seem  Eke 
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,  Khorasaan  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  maoy 
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  do  credit  to  Minnesota.  In  the  midst  of  it,  I  fell  down  in  a  ttreaa, 
dropped  the  hi.  and  wetted  everything.  With  clothes  frozen  stiff,  hands  numbed,  one  finger 
slightly  frost-bitten,  and  the  blizzard  at  its  worst,  I  had  to  vrade  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  strugpgle  ahead,  along  the  single  trail  broken 
by  pack-anima's  through  a  ft.  of  snow ;  but  by  noon  the  sun  grew  uncomfortaUy  hot,  making 
ankle-deep  mud  and  slush,  through  which  I  trundled  the  bi.  for  14  m."  'On  Mar.  8,  the  Rnssiaa 
minister  at  Teheran  had  assured  Stevens  that  no  official  obstades  should  hinder  his  passage 
through  Siberia ;  and  he  therefore  intended  to  steer  for  Iricutsk,  and  thence— if  the  a.  route  lor 
Pekin  seemed  utterly  impracticable— reach  the  Pacific  by  way  of  the  Amoor  valley.  Mer?, 
Bokhara,  Samarkand,  Tashkent  and  Tomsk  were  intermediate  places  which  he  had  planned  to 
touch  at  during  this  "  journey  of  6ooo  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. 


571 


paas  beyond  their  frontier.  So,  after  a  week's  delay,  he  turned  a.,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  reach 
India.  His  itinerary  for  the  next  z\  moa.  was  mailed  to  me  from  Constantinople,  June  i6,  and  I 
quote  as  follows  :  "  Apr.  7,  Meshed  to  Sheriiabad,  hilly ;  8th,  mostly  hilly,  with  some  excellent 
Soing,  to  wayside  caravansary ;  9th,  Torbet-i-Haiderie,  mountainous ;  loth,  splendid  wheeling, 
benighted  in  desert;  nth,  Kaklu,  some  sand, some  good  gravel ;  lath,  Nukhab,  bad  mountains; 
13th,  small  hamlet,  average  fair  wheeling ;  14th,  Birjand,  300  m.  from  M.,  good  wheeling ;  15th, 
Ali-abad (guest  of  Ameer  of  Seisun);  i6ih,  Darmian,  bad  mountains;  17th,  Tabbas,  across  a 
plain,  fairly  ridable ;  i8th,  mountainous  journey  to  huts  on  edge  of  the  desert ;  19th,  enter 
Afghanistan  and  camp  out  on  Dasht>i-na-oomed  ('  Desert  of  Despair ') ;  aoth,  nomad  camp,  half 
the  wheeling  fair,  much  of  it  rough ;  2  ist,  bad  sand-hills  after  leaving  camp,  reach  a  village  near 
Harud ;  zand,  Ghalikue,  irrigating  ditches  and  cultivated  land ;  23rd,  nomad  camp,  good  wheel- 
ing on  gravel  plain;  a4th,  Farrah,  about  300  m.  from  Birjand."  Here  the  Governor  of  F. 
arrested  him,  and  sent  him  back,  under  escort  of  Afghans,  to  Herat,  160  m.,  a 5th  to  30th.  For 
half  this  distance,  to  Subgowan,  on  the  a7th,  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 
«pokes  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  m.  between  that  place  and  India;  but  Col.  R.'s  only  answer  was  to  instruct  the 
Governor  of  H.  that  he  be  escorted  back  into  Persia.  So,  on  May  xo,  he  resumed  the  back- 
ward journey,  by  a  road  about  \  ridable,  to  a  village  whose  name  his  Afghan  guard  refused  to 
ten ;  on  nth,  to  a  "  water  umbar,"  with  very  little  wheeling ;  on  xzth,  by  bad  road  to  camp  in 
Herinid  jongle ;  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  16th,  to  Meshed,  at  1  p.  m., — thus  covering  160  m.  of  good 
road  in  a^  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  days, — the  nightly  halts  being  as  follows :  May  19,  caravansary ;  20th,  village  near 
Nishapoor;  aist,  Lafaram;  aand,  water  umbar;  23rd,  Mazman;  a4th,  camped  out  near  cara- 
vansary ;  25th,  camped  out  From  S.  to  Bunder  Guz,  the  port  on  Caspian  Sea  where  I  embarked 
June  4,  was  a  4  days'  journey  of  tao  m.,-^he  first  part  of  it  by  fearful  trail  over  the  mtns., 
with  mule  carrying  the  wheel,  to  Asterabad,  May  28-30 ;  and  on  the  3xst  I  readied  B.  G.  The 
rest  of  my  route  is  shown  thus :  June  6,  Baku;  7th,  Tiflis ;  8th,  Batoum ;  15th,  Constantino- 
ple." Outing;  for  Sept  (p.  671)  printed  a  letter  dated  at  C,  June  24,  from  Ernest  Raleigh,  who 
describes  himself  as  "  an  unhappy  and  discomfited  tourist,  forbidden  to  travel  anywhere  beyond 
Meshed,"  and  says  he  "therefore  traveled  back  whh  Stevens,  from  M.  to  the  Caspian,  whence, 
after  many  days,  we  finally  turned  up  at  Constantinople."  He  declares  that  the  pushing  of  a 
bicyde  across  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  bad  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.  10  (mis- 
printed "  Aug.  12  "  on  p.  482),  to  begin  the  stretch  of  1576  m.  ending  at  Teheran,  Sept.  30. 
During  the  3  mos.  of  his  return  wanderings  between  T.  and  Constantinople,  he  seems  to  have 
pushed  the  bi.  nearly  2000  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 
across  India.'*  Writing  from  K.,  July  26,  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, 
thns  :  "  My  tour  has  been  accomplished  in  the  season  when  all  Europeans  who  can  possibly 
I  from  bttsineas  are  up  in  the  hill  stations,  and  when  exposure  and  much  exertion  are  con- 


572         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

•idered  highly  indiscreet.  I  have,  however,  escaped  with  only  one  slight  attadc  ol  ferer,  i 
hid  me  up  ioe  a  couple  of  days  at  Benares.  This  is  worthy  of  mention  only  as  being  the  first 
occasion  on  the  entire  journey  that  I  have  had  anything  approaching  a  day's  illnessp  or  evea  a 
day's  indisposition.  Altogether,  it  is  regarded  as  remarkable  by  the  English  in  Calcutta  that  I 
have  traversed  1400  m.  of  Indian  road  on  a  bicycle  at  this  season  of  the  year  and  escaped  with  only 
one  slight  attack  of  fever.  The  weather  has  been  very  trying  and  fever-inducing.  AH  through 
Lower  Bengal  the  clouds  were  hovering  near  the  tree  tops ;  when  it  was  n't  pouring  ram  it  was 
drizzling,  and  the  roads  were  shallow  streams.  What  with  the  profuse  perq>iration,  the  lain  and 
the  excessively  huraid  atmosphere,  a  dry  thread  of  clothing  was  entirely  out  of  the  qoestkn.  I 
passed  through  districts  where  the  natives  were  dying  at  a  fearful  rate,  with  a  peculiariy  malig- 
nant type  of  fever.  My  own  immunity  from  serious  illness  I  credit  to  the  daily  exercise.  It  must 
be  this,  because,  from  sheer  necessity,  I  have  daily  (hank  indifferent  water,  slept  in  damp  dothcs, 
and  committed  various  other  indiscretions  inseparable  from  a  bicyde  tour  through  India  in  Ai^vst 
and  September.  Notwithstanding  these  discomforts  and  drawbacks,  there  has  been  all  along  a 
genuine  element  of  pleasure  and  satisfaction  in  the  splendidly-metaled  roads,  smooth  for  the 
most  part  as  an  asphalt  pavement,  as  well  as  in  the  many  interesting  objects  and  equally  interest- 
ing people,  so  different  from  any  other  country.  From  Lahore  to  Sasseraw,  a  distance  of  abeot 
1000  m.,  the  road  may  truthfully  be  described  as  the  finest  in  the  world.  It  is  perfectly  level, 
metaled  with  JkunkaA,  which  makes  a  smooth,  cement-like  surface,  and  for  a  good  portion  oC  the 
way  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  call  it  an  avenue.  Through  the  Bengal  hills  it  is  less  level,  and  is 
metaled  with  rock ;  the  drenching  monsoon  rains  have  washed  away  the  earth,  and  left  th<  anr- 
face  rough  and  trying  on  a  wheel.  My  stay  in  Calcutta  will  be  but  three  or  four  days,  as  I  am 
anxious  to  push  on  to  China  and  avoid  the  possibility  of  being  overtaken  theie  by  winter.  ** 

The  same  page  oiL.  A.  IV.  Bit/Minvflach  printed  the  foregoing  letter  (Nov.  $>  *9^  p.  477) 
also  quoted  a  longer  one  from  "  A.  W.,"  a  correspondent  of  WfueUng^  who  talked  with  Stevens 
at  Allahabad,  Aug.  29-3i,~after  he  had  passed  through  Umballa,  Delhi,  Agra  and  Cawnpore. 
At  6  A.  M.  of  the  31st,  "  A.  W."  and  another  cycler  wheeled  out  with  him  to  the  Gavgc%  and 
saw  him  well  started  by  boat  across  the  broad  river,  to  take  the  road  for  Benares.  "A.  W. "  says : 
"  It  was  perhaps  lucky  that  he  was  turned  back  in  Afghanistan,  because,  if  he  had  been  allowed 
to  continue  his  ride,  the  chances  were  in  favor  of  his  being  stuck  by  the  Afghans  for  his  machme 
and  revolver ;  or  he  might  have  succumbed  to  the  heat  of  the  Indian  sun,  as  he  woaU  have 
arrived  here  early  in  June,  and  the  hardships  he  would  have  been  compelled  to  go  throoch  amnt 
have  been  terrible.  Indeed,  the  actual  hardships  which  he  has  had  to  contend  with  here  are  what 
very  few  Europeans  would  care  to  try,  even  in  the  oold  season.  But,  in  spite  of  bad  food  (and 
very  little  of  that,  at  times),  wet  clothes,  mosquitoes,  anis,  jackals,  dogs  and  other  disagreeables 
too  numerous  to  mention,  he  keeps  his  health  and  spirits  and  is  guning  in  musdeoonaiderafaly.'* 
His  experiences  in  China  were  the  most  difficult  and  dangerous  of  all.  Leaving  Canton, 
Oct.  14,  he  reached  the  British  consulate  at  Kiukiang,  Nov.  14 ;  thence  by  s.  s.  reached  Shans- 
hai  on  i8th,  and  Nagasaki  (Japan)  on  aist.  "  For  4  days  out  from  C,  there  were  no  roads  bat 
an  intricate  maze  of  tracks  through  the  rice-fields.  Then  even  these  paths  stopped  and  leh  noth- 
ing but  the  Fe-Kang  river  and  the  rocky  mtns.  sloping  to  its  edge.  Four  days'  poling,  rowing 
and  towing,  to  Chao-choo-foo,  and  4  more  with  coolies  carrying  the  bi.,  brought  me  over  the 
Meeling  pass,  into  the  province  of  Kiang-tse.  Its  paths  were  better  than  those  of  (^ng^tang, 
and  I  wheeled  my  way  down  to  Kin-gan-foo.  Here  the  mob  would  have  kiOed  me,  except  for 
the  two  soldiers  appointed  by  the  authorities  of  the  previous  city,  Ta-ho,  to  escort  me  within  the 
gates  of  the  chief  magistrate.  After  midnight,  when  he  had  succeeded  in  dispersing  the  r 
I  was  spirited  away  in  a  boat,  under  guard  of  6  soldiers.  Thenceforth  the  authorities  1 
allowed  me  to  wheel,  but  passed  me  on  down  stream  by  boat,  from  town  to  town,  to  \ 
where,  by  much  persuasion,  I  obtained  leave  to  take  a  short  cut  across  country  to  Kiakiatts,  hot 
still  with  an  escort."  In  Japan,  however,  where  the  native  journals  had  heralded  his  advent, 
"  officials  and  people  vied  with  each  other  in  paying  him  attention,"  so  that  his  tour  (Nov.  ij  ta 
D«c.  17)  '*  seemed,  in  comparison,  like  a  sort  of  progress  through  paradise."  Sailing  fross 
Yokohama,  Dec.  ^^,  he  reached  San  Fianciaco,  Jan.  7,  '87,  and  was  very  warmly  welcomed. 


XXXIIL 

SUMMARY  BY  STATES. 

Under  this  heading,  I  originally  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 ;  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  I  find  myself  obliged 
to  substitute  for  it  something  of  smaller  scope.  When  I  begin  writing  this 
(Nov.  22,  *86),  not  only  have  the  previous  569  pp.  been  electrotyped,  but  also 
Chaps.  34  to  41,  comprising  the  last  210  pp.  of  the  book,  which  thus  already 
contains  four  times  the  number  of  words  originally  intended.  For  the  short- 
comings of  this  latest-written  chapter,  the  promise  of  "  My  Second  Ten,  Thou- 
sand" is  the  best  excuse  and  remedy  which  I  can  offer ;  and,  if  I  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  "  2  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  (/.  e.^  the  last  one  given  in  each  case)  shows  where  the  State's 
subscribers  to  this  book  may  be  found,  in  the  "Directory  of  Wheelmen." 

Mainb  :  2,  la,  ao,  31,  4a,  50i  99.  "O'l  «3a.  «77.  ^46, 293.  a95.  353»  354, 37o.  S«->5.  5*5.  53o. 
593,  594,  609,  610,  617,  618.  627,  631,  66f,  765-66.  Chap.  XX.,  "  In  the  Down-Eaat  Fogs" 
(a53-8i),  tells  of  my  tour  with  F.  A.  Elwell's  '83  party,  Eastport  to  Calais,  39  m. ;  Lubec  to 
Machiasport,  3a  m.,  and  30  m.  on  Ml  Desert,  with  10  m.  of  other  roads,  and  a  total  wheeling 
of  171  m.  Routes  leading  into  Portland  are  noted,  pp.  357-59 ;  30  m.  of  good  shore  road,  p.  274 : 
Perham's  500  m.  tide,  p.  515.  "Along  the  Kennebec  Valley"  was  the  route  of  the  second 
El  well  tour,  July  30  to  Aug.  3,  '84,  which  attracted  37  participants, — several  of  whom  had  juitt 
taken  part  in  the  Chicago  B.  C's  second  annual  tour  (p.  330),  which  ended  at  Boston.  I  think 
it  wa»  one  of  the  latter,  F.  E.  Drullard,  of  Buffalo,  who  printed  in  the  BL  World  (Sept.  19,  p. 
333)  a  four-column  report,  from  which  I  condense  the  following; :  Boston  was  the  rendezvous, 
July  39,  when  train  was  taken  direct  to  Augusta,  on  account  oi  rain,  though  the  intention  had 
been  to  take  it  only  from  Lynn  to  Gardiner,  wheeling  thence  the  last  7  m.  to  A.  On  30th,  after 
a  spin  to  Togus,  4  m.,  and  back,  the  party  rode  to  Waterville,  18  m. ;  31st,  to  Skowhegan,  18 
m.  in  a  h.;  Aug.  i,  to  Bingham,  a6  m.  (dinner  at  Solon,  half  way);  and,  to  Forks  of  the 
Kennebec,  35  m.  (dinner  at  Carney's  hotel,  half  way),  "  a  charming  run,  along  a  hillftide  over- 


574  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

looking  the  river,  with  Iiigh  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  FaLs,  95 
ft.  hig]).  On  4th,  a  return  was  made  to  Bingham,  and  on  sih,  to  Skowhegau,  by  new  rouxe, 
on  other  side  of  river  (dinner  at  North  Anson), — mist  and  rain  on  this  last  day  following  6  day» 
of  pleasant  weather.  Rev.  H.  F.  Fuller,  of  Chicago,  printed  a  sketch  of  this  trip,  in  If  Jkeeidi 
Oct.  10,  showing  that  151m.  were  ridden.  A  paragraph  of  Aug.,  '85,  gave  the  4  days'  mileage 
of  a  Boston  man,  Y.  W.  Heymer,  in  the  same  region,  thus :  Waterville  to  Forks  of  Kennebec, 
42I ;  Moose  River,  46 ;  Marlow,  31 ;  St.  Joseph,  38.  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 
tea  "  was  the  characterization  of  the  third  annual  tour,  whose  projector,  F.  A.  Elwell,  sent  me 
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  wbcd. 
ing  I  ever  experienced.  You  know  my  ideal  of  these  tours  i»  enjoyment,  pure  and  simple, — not 
to  '  a>ver  *  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  fol> 
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,  wc  began  our  5  days'  leisurely  ride 
to  the  sea-coast  at  Mt.  Desert,  and  went  only  14  m.,  Greenville  to  Monson,  through  magisificent 
scenery, — the  road  being  excellent  except  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  jopscd  oa 
to  Dexter,  17  m. ;  and  on  22nd,  to  Bangor,  28  m.,  through  fine  farming  country,  with  road 
smooth  enough  for  12  m.  |)er  h. ;  24th,  to  Ellsworth,  28  m.,  on  road  not  quite  so  good;  asth,  10 
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  tonr. 
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  23,  '86,  7  a.  m.  to  8. 15  p-  m.,  1  went  from  Bridgetoo  to 
Augusta,  71  m.,  whereof  I  walked  19.  Good  clay  prevailed  through  Harrison,  6  ra.,  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  roaiL 
From  5.30  to  6.15  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  a4th,  through  Palermo,  Mant> 
ville  and  Belmont  to  Belfast,  48  m.  in  5I  h.  of  riding ;  on  asth,  2  to  5  p.  m.,  back  to  Bucksport. 
18  m.,  by  good  loam  and  shale  road,  through  Searsport  and  Stockton  ;  on  86th,  by  fine  clay  load 
to  Ellsworth,  20  m.,  and,  at  last,  through  the  afternoon's  rain,  to  Bar  Harbor,  on  the  island  cf ' 
Mt.  Desert.  I  had  been  22  days  in  doing  the  836}  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  i]  h.,  and  took 
boat  to  Rockland, — ^wheeling  thence  on  itth  to  Augusta,  52  m.,  in  6h.  of  riding;  »tb,  9.30 
A.M.  to  7.30  p.  M.,  to  Solon,  60  m.,  in  7}  h.  r. ;  and  Z3th,  8.15  A.  m.  to  6.45  p.  M.,  to  the  border 
custom-house  at  Moose  River  Plantation,  62  m.  This  is  30  ro.  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  onlydw^dl- 
ing  on  the  route.  At  the  Forks  I  entered  '  the  100  ra.  forest ' ;  and  for  the  whole  15  m.  of  ray  jour- 
ney up  the  5th,  6th,  7th  and  ist  ranges,  to  Jackman's,  the  thick  branches  of  the  trees  overlapped 
and  caused  pleasant  shade  over  a  fine  road ;  the  next  4  ni'  Also  were  good,  and  then  I  had  9  m. 
of  continuous  descent,  with  impressive  views  of  rugged  mtn.  peaks,  and  glimpses  of  rivers  and 
of  Moosehead  Lake.    Rain  delayed  my  start  on  the  14th  till  1. 15  p.  m.,  when  I  began  a  dimb  of 


SUMMARY  BY  STATES:   MAINE.  575 

s6  m.  to  the  tummit  of  the  Bald  ridge,  where  stands  the  huge  iron  poet  marlung  the  divide  be- 
tween U.  S.  and  Can. ;  but  at  4  o'clock  I  was,  for  the  fin>t  time  in  my  life,  on  British  soil.  I 
teached  St.  Come,  21  m.,  in  3  h.,  as  the  hills  were  in  my  favor.  On  the  15th,  starting  at  8.30^ 
I  found  a  good  day  road  to  St.  George,  9  m.,  and  then  looee  stones  and  grass,  through  which  I 
tried  to  ride  fast,  to  avoid  being  overtaken  by  the  customs  officers.  I  reached  St.  Joseph,  24 
m.,  at  I  p.  M.  (dinner,  1}  h.),  and  for  much  of  ihe  next  35  m.  of  wretched  road  to  St.  Henry  (7 
p.  M.)  I  ran  and  pushed  my  bi.,  for  I  still  feared  pursuit  by  the  customs  men.  Thence  to  Point 
L.evi  stretched  12  m.  of  mac,  and  I  crossed  the  ferry  by  moonlight,  and  rode  i  m.  more  to  the 
Albion  House  in  Quebec,  at  8.30.  This  81  m.  spurt  was  a  severe  trial  of  endurance  both  for 
me  and  the  machine,  but  the  fear  of  having  the  latter  seized  and  confiscated,  because  of  my  fail- 
ure to  deposit  $50  surety  for  it,  kept  me  up  to  my  work.  After  3  days  in  Q.,  I  rode  on  18th 
to  Deschambault,  43  m. ;  on  i9ih,  to  Mafkinonge,  74I  m.,  and  on  30th,  to  Montreal,  66^  m.,— * 
tbe  last  13  m.,  on  the  island,  being  the  only  good  riding  of  all,  for  ihe  rest  was  through  sand^ 
pass  and  weeds.  The  food  of  those  3  days  was  hardly  fit  to  eat  and  the  beds  had  no  sheets. 
On  the  33rd,  10  A.  M.  to  4  p.  M.,  I  wheeled  from  M.  to  St.  Anne,  as  m.,  across  the  island  of 
Perrot,  3  m.,  and  to  Coteau  du  Lac.,  10  m.,— ending  there  my  tour  of  1433  m."  (For  earlier 
sections  of  the  same,  in  Vt.  and  N.  H.,  see  pp.  578,  577  ;  for  fuller  details  of  the  whole,  see 
Whteimgn^i  GaaetU^  Jan.,  '87;  for  other  reports  about  Quebec,  see  pp.  328-330.) 

In  a  letter  of  Aug.  30,  '81,  "  Telsah  "  said  :  "  The  road  from  Biddeford  to  Portland  is 
^rery  good,  and  the  side  trip  from  Saco  to  Old  Orchard  Beach  and  return  is  excellent*'  On 
Sept.  3,  '8s,  F.  C.  Kirkwood,  of  Baltimore,  in  the  course  of  a  3  weeks'  tour  of  336  m.,  rode 
from  Portbod  to  Saco,  15  m.,io  3  h.,  with  }  h.  of  stops;  and  then  from  Dover  Point  to  Kiltery, 
10  m.,  in  1^  h.  The  former  stretch  was  so  badly  cut  up  as  to  be  only  barely  ridable,  but  the  lat- 
ter was  better  and  offered  attractive  water-scenery.  (In  Mass.,  a  few  days  later,  Mr.  K.  rode 
without  dismount  from  a  point  near  Wakefield  to  S.  Framingham,  36  m.)  Osgood's  "  New 
England  Guide,**  described  on  p.  293,  will  be  of  service  to  any  tourist  in  Maine  or  the  other 
5  States.  "  Moosehead  Lake  and  Ncnrthem  Maine  Wilderness,"  with  map  of  the  lake  region 
C&f,  7th  ed.,  319  pp.,  illust.),  and  "  Androscoggin  Lake  and  the  Headwaters  of  the  Connecti- 
cut, Magalloway  and  Androscoggin  Rivers  "  ('84,  9th  ^»  3*9  PP-)f  ^^  a  pair  of  paper-covered 
guides,  by  C  A.  J.  Farrar,  pub.  at  Jamaica  Plain,  Mass.,  chiefly  for  the  benefit  of  those  who 
fish  and  hunt  Two  township  maps  of  Maine  are  issued  by  the  C^oltons,  183  WLliam  St.,  N.  Y. : 
40  by  33  in.,  at  $1.50,  and  18  by  14  in.,  at  50  c 

New  Hampshirb  :  13,  37, 50, 113,  177, 346, 357,  259, 293,  5x1, 594,  597,  610,  617,  618, 627^ 
431, 643, 6s4, 766.  Reports  from  Portsmouth,  Manchester  and  Nashua  are  on  pp.  101, 128,  500, 
907,  soS;  and  two  rides  do%ni  Mt  Washington  are  noted  on  pp.  525,  671.  The  BL  World  of 
Aug.  I.  *83  (p.  210),  described  the  coast  down  the  mtn.  by  the  trio  of  tourists  from  St.  Loub  x 
C.  F.  A.  Beckers,  J.  S.  Rogers  and  A.  Young,— the  first  of  whom  reached  the  Glen  House  in  51 
min.,  the  others  35  min.  later.  They  rode  Expert  Columbias,  fitted  with  special  brakes;  and 
they  had  a  total  of  31  falls  (divided  thua :  B.,  7 ;  R.,  14 ;  Y.,  10),  but  struck  on  their  feet  in 
every  case.  J.  A.  Spead,  of  So.  Newmarket,  wrote  to  me  thus  :  "  We  often  ride  to  Ports- 
mouth, 13  m.,  without  dismount,  inside  of  i  h.,  in  spite  of  a  stiff  hill  and  100  rods  of  sand.  The 
road  to  Dover,  13  m.,  is  rather  sandy  and  hilly,  but,  by  using  care,  I  can  cover  it  with  one  dis- 
mount The  4  m.  from  here  to  Exeter  are  all  ridable,  but  include  two  steep  hills."  C.  F. 
SawteOe,  of  Manchester,  went  through  Francestown,  HtUsboro,  Washington  and  Lempster,  to 
Charlestown,  85  m.,  in  10  h.  of  actual  riding,  and  returned  next  day  in  8^  h.  (full  time,  rx  h.), 
the  last  14  m.  being  done  in  i  h.  of  almost  continuous  coasting  {Wheels  Aug.  15,  '84).  C.  D. 
Batchelder,  of  Lancaster  (pub.  of  "  Record  Book  " ;  see  p.  676),  reported  to  me  as  follows :  "  I 
first  mounted  a  crank  bt.  Aug.  17,  '83,  and  rode  it  one  season.  I  now  use  a  Star  and  think  it  the 
best  wheel  made.  Mileage:  '83,  500;  '83,  800;  '84,  isoo;  '85,  1500;  '86,  to  July  17,  538. 
My  longest  ride  in  '86  has  been  40  m.,  as  I  work  10  h.  a  day,  and  have  not  lost  an  hour  on  ac> 
nmnt  of  wheeling.  Record  represenu  a  McDonnell  cyclom.,  thoroughly  tested.  I  discarded 
two  specimens  as  imsattsfactory,  but  I  think  that  when  a  man  gets  a  good  McDonnell  he  will 
find  it  quite  good  enough.    My  longest  tour  was  in  July,  '85,  L.  to  Machias,  Me.,  and  back, — 


576  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

300  m.  in  10  days  of  wheeling,  besides  much  riding  on  train  and  boat  Longest  stretch  in  tha 
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  ofiEshoot  of  the  White  Mtns.,  forming  a  chain  of  beautiful  woodei 
hills,  2000  to  3000  ft.  high.  From  L.  we  rode  n.,  along  the  winding  Connecticut,  to  Grovetoo. 
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  ^ 
Androscoggin,  to  West  Milan,  8  m. ;  followed  by  2  m.  upward  tramp  and  a  m.  of  descent,  oa  a 
stony  and  sandy  road  to  Pontook  Falls ;  thsnce  along  the  r.  bank  of  the  river  to  Bethel,  ta  m., 
was  the  swiftest  spin  of  the  day.  We  arrived  at  12.30,  and  after  \  h.  for  dinner,  I  proceeded 
alone  to  Gorham,  6  m.,  expecting  to  make  good  time  for  the  26  m.  thence  to  L.,  though  up-grade 
and  rather  rough ;  but  a  gale  of  wind  opposed  me  for  a  while,  and  I  got  on  a  wrong  road  whick 
forced  me  to  retrace  3  m.  Reaching  home  soon  after  sundown,  I  was  comparatively  fresh,  so 
that  I  might  have  done  20  m.  more  without  trouble,  llie  route  is  a  pleasant  one,  bat  might  be 
enjoyed  belter  by  giving  2  days  to  it.  The  stretch  of  25  ra.  up  the  river  from  Gorham  b  the 
only  good  road  of  any  length  in  the  whole  of  Coos  county.*' 

E.  F.  Peavey,  of  Farmington,  filled  p.  261  in  Bi.  World  oi  Oct.  7,  '81,  with  an  interestiBg 
sketch  of  his  3  days'  straightaway  tour  from  F.  to  Fabyan's,  97  m.,  in  ar  h.  of  actual  time  00  the 
road.  Starting  Sept.  7,  on  a  52  in.  Standard  Columbia,  he  reached  Ossipee,  26  m.,  at  noon,  and 
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  ridii^.  On  the  8tb, 
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  takes 
through  the  White  Mtns.,  before  Aug.,  '79,  by  W.  E.  Oilman ;  and  I  think  he  gave  an  acootrat 
of  it  in  Bi.  Worlds  but  I  cannot  now  refer  to  date  and  page.  Four  carefully-written  cfaapten 
of  White  Mtn.  travels  were  printed  in  B.  IV.,  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.)  as  senr. 
ing  them  well.  The  writer  of  the  report  appended  to  it  several  outline  routes  for  tours  of  4, 6 
or  15  days,  and  said :  "  I  advise  moving  from  w.  to  e.,  as  the  up-grades  are  mudi  easier,  in  the 
Amroonoosuc  valley,  approaching  the  Notch,  than  those  of  the  Saco  valley  from  the  e.  A« 
average  of  5  m.  an  hour  and  25  m.  a  day  will  be  enough  for  comfort.  From  Plymouth,  the  first 
5  or  6  m.  up  the  Pemigewasset  valley  are  reported  sandy  and  the  next  ao  m.  to  the  Flnme  fair 
riding.  At  N.  Conway,  9  m.  may  be  done  with  only  2  dismounts,  and  the  roads  in  the  r^ion 
around  Littleton  are  also  exceptionally  good.  We  struck  2  m.  of  unridable  sand  just  n.  of 
Franconia,  5  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  all  anwnd 
us.  Little  hills,  softness  of  surface  and  occasional  patches  of  sand  are  the  bicycler's  troubles  m 
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  np 
the  Conn,  valley,  he  crossed  from  Bemardston  into  Vt.  on  the  evening  of  the  second  day ;  oa 
the  third  into  N.  H.,  through  Charlestown  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  turfted  from  the  Conn,  river  at  Wells  River,  and  followed  up  the  Ammonoosuc  to  N.  Lid>on, 
where,  after  climbing  a  hill  about  i  m.  long,  he  found  an  easy  descent  into  Franconia,  and  tbea 
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  nt 
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  Wein. 
was  one  of  the  best  on  the  trip ;  and  from  Laconia  down  to  Concord,  2  s  m.,  the  road  is  fine,  thoofl 
mostly  through  the  woods.  Above  and  below  Manchester,  the  wheeling  was  poorer ;  but  dM 
whole  trip  was  so  pleasant  that  the  poor  roads  have  almost  been  forgotten  "  {BulUtim,  Jan.  n* 


SCTAf Af A jRV  BV  STATES:  NEW  HAMPSHIRE,     577 

"86,  p.  5a).  Wiih  this  may  be  compared  the  report  of  W.  B.  Page :  "  On  afternoon  of  July  19, 
'86,  my  ride  of  16  m.,  Bath  to  Fraucoaia,  %vas  interrupted  by  thunder  storms,  with  rain  and  baU» 
mjkhig  the  usually  good  road  difficult.  On  aolh,  I  took  a  detour  to  the  Flume  (13  m.,  ind.  6  m. 
np  and  6  m.  down,  on  good  shale,  each  way),  and  then  went  by  hilly  clay  road,  from  Franconia 
to  Bethlehem,  6  m.  (diuner  at  i) ;  thence  past  Maplewood,  Twin  Mtn.  House,  Fabyau's  and 
Crawford  House  to  Wiiley  Hous^,— making  5s  m.  lor  8  h.  of  riding.  On  2X8t,  a  fine  12  m.  run 
to  Bartleit  for  breakfast ;  then  6  m.  to  Gien  Suiion  and  16  m.,  mostly  unridable,  up  the  Peabody 
river  to  the  Gien  House,  though  the  wonderful  views  were  a  compensation.  Between  3  and  8 
p.  M.,  I  toftk  a  tramp  to  the  top  of  Mt.  Washington  and  back,  16  m.,~thus  completing  one  of 
th  t  hardest  50  m.  records  in  ray  experieuce.  On  sand,  I  retraced  my  cou»e  to  Glen  Station ; 
readied  N.  Conway,  2a  m.,  at  noon ;  walked  most  of  la  m.  thence  to  Fryebuvg,  Me. ;  whence 
to  iiridjstoti.  It  m.,  haif  the  road  is  sand,  through  a  stunted  forest,  and  the  rest  is  fine  shale, 
ia  sight  of  pretty  lakes."  (See  p.  574  for  remainder  of  route  through  Me.,  and  p.  5/8  for  first 
part  of  to  r,  from  Philadelpliia  to  Bath.) 

A  fortnight's  lour,  July  31  to  Aug.  13,  *8f,  was  reported  by  E.  H.  Corson  to  his  home 
paper,  th^  Rj'kstUr  Courigr  of  Aug.  ai ;  and  th.*  MeckAtUe  afterwards  devoted  4  columns  to  a 
reprint  of  thj  sketch.  Th^  rider  combined  busin<£ss  with  pleasure,— because  his  fun  on  the 
road  gave  an  **  objsct  lesson  "  as  to  thj  m.;rits  of  the  Star  hi.,  for  which  he  is  a  most  enthusiastic 
ae.Ung-a^ent,  and  enabi^  him  to  uke  orders  from  purchasers  in  almost  every  town  :  "  Over  the 
B  u^  Hills  of  Strafford  to  Pittsfi^id,  6.30  to  1 1  A.  u.,  and  thence  to  Concord,  43^  m.,  was  a  hard  and 
rou^h  day's  rido ;  and  1  advisi  tourists  that  a  better  route  from  K.  to  C.  is  by  the  old  Ports- 
mouih  and  C.  pik^  from  E.  Northwood.  Aug.  1,  Pennacook,  Bcacawen  and  Franklin  Falls; 
and.  very  fine  ridi  along  the  shons  of  Sanbornton  bay  to  Laconia ;  3rd,  to  Weirs  and  back ;  4th, 
through  Ashland  and  Plymouth  to  Haverhill ;  whcnc3  on  5th,  1  followed  the  Conn,  river, 
amid  beauiiful  scenery  10  Weils  River,  and  then  the  Ammonoosoc,  by  sandy  roads  to  Little* 
ton ;  good  hard  road  to  Whittsfield  and  hilly  then  to  Lancaster,  56  m. ;  6lh  to  Qih,  in  and  around 
L.,  inc-uding  a  tramp  to  thd  top  of  Mt.  Prospect  (wherj  nuy  be  had  one  of  the  finest  views  in 
the  State)  and  a  ride  to  Gui  dhall  Falls,  Vt.  On  loth,  by  bad  road,  to  Ckrham,  37  m. ;  1  ith, 
to  Bethel,  Mo.,  34^  m.  in  3I  h.,  thence  in  rain  to  L.oveil ;  lath,  E.  Fryebuig  and  iCesah  Falls, 
JO  m. ;  13th,  in  rain,  through  Cornish,  Limerick  and  Milton  Mills  home  to  Rochester  at  1.30 
p.  M.,— lh^:  last  15  m.  in  \\  h."  The  whole  mileage  is  vaguely  alluded  to  as  "  500,"  but  no 
deuils  of  it  are  given  save  these  quoted.  The  same  "  Star  roan  "  (p.  357)  on  July  10,  '83,  rode 
from  R.  to  Laconia,  %'^  m.,  in  5}  h.,  through  Farmington  and  Alion  Bay;  nth,  through 
Pl]rnu)ulh  to  Campion  Village  (with  detours,  75  m.  in  3  days) ;  isth,  after  4  m.  of  walking  in 
■and,  a  better  road  was  found  on  w.  side  of  river;  through  Thornton,  Woodstock,  the  Flume, 
post  Profile  House,  Bethlehem  and  Whitefield  to  Lancaster,  5.30  a.  m.  to  6  r.  m.,  50  m. ;  i3ih,to 
Lunenbufs,  Vt.,  and  back,  37  m.,  iucl.  asm.  stretch  of  sand;  15th,  33  m.,  to  a  farm  house, 
within  4  m.  of  the  Glen  House;  16th,  climbed  to  summit  of  Mt.  Washington  and  then 
coMted  dojvn  (see  p.  671),  33  m. ;  17th,  home  to  Rochester,  about  85  m.,  through  Jackson, 
Conw.iy,  Madison,  Freedom,  Ossipee,  Wakefield  and  MiUon. 

Os<;ix>d*s  "  White  .Mtn.  Guide  "  (;|i.so;  see  p.  393)  should  be  studied  by  every  one  who 
p!ans  to  uke  a  tour  in  this  State.  S.  C.  Eastman's  "  White  Mtn.  Guide"  (Concord,  '73,  nth 
ed.,  350  pp.),  a  smaller  and  cheaper  book,  proved  very  serviceable  to  me,  as  a  pedestrian,  in  '7f- 
*73,  and  I  presume  it  is  still  in  the  market.  It  contains  a  good  map  of  the  mtns.,  as  does  W. 
H.  Pickering's  "  Walking  Guide  to  the  Ml  Washington  Range  "  (Boston:  A.  Williams  &  Co., 
'8a  ;  83  pp.,  7S  c),  which  would  presumably  be  of  use  to  the  wheelman,  though  I  've  never  seen 
a  copy.  I  may  say  the  same  of  '*  Gaz'stteer  of  Grafton  County,  1709-1886,"  compiled  and  pub. 
by  Hamilton  Child,  at  Syracuse,  N.  V.  (large  8vo;  pp.  644,  380;  portraits  and  map);  for  the 
380  pp.  of  its  second  part  "  comprise  a  directory  of  all  the  inhabitants,  and  after  each  person's 
name  is  the  number  of  the  road  where  his  house  may  be  found  on  the  accompanying  map,— 
the  roads  of  each  town  being  separately  numbered.  E.g.,*  W.  B.  Phillips,  r  33  cr>r  31 '  shows 
just  where  he  lives  in  the  town  of  Lisbon."  The  Cottons  publish  a  township  nnap  of  N.  H., 
18  by  14 in.,  at  50c. ;  J.  B.  Beers  ft  Co.,  a  wall  map  of  Portsmouth,  at  $8. 
37 


578  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Vbrmont  :  31,  iia,  119,  177,  193,  503,  508,  516,  580,  594,  609,  610,  617,  618,  617,  631, 654, 
67a,  733,  766.  My  ride  up  the  river  to  Bellows  Falls,  and  then  from  Rutland  to  Lake  Geoff)Be, 
183-84;  other  lake  tourists  in  s.  w.  cor.  of  Vt,  179,  193 ;  route  from  White  River  Juncdon  to 
Montpelier,  Lake  Champlain  and  Canada,  500.  Colton's  maps :  40  by  30  in.,  $1.50 ;  18  fay  14  in., 
50  c. ;  Vt  &  N.  H.,  3 «  by  as  in.,  ^i.  The  BL  IVerid  (Apr.  34,  '85,  p.  457)  printed  a  cofaimn 
about  the  Vt.  roads,  by  F.  W.  Sherburne,  of  Bane,  who  said  he  had  explored  some  400  m.  of 
them, — his  best  day's  ride  being  68  m.,  from  B.  to  Windsor,  in  Sept.,  '83,  though  he  hoped 
soon  to  do  100  ro.  His  letter  to  me  of  Aug.  11,  '85,  reported  this  as  accomplished  thus :  "  Ob 
July  37,  between  3  a.  m.  and  9.45  p.  m.,  on  a  53  in.  Rudge,  I  covered  iia}  m.,  reg.  by  Batcher 
cydom.  Roods  and  weather  were  at  their  best,  and  a  very  light  wind  prevailed.  I  made  fre- 
quent stops,  amounting  in  all  to  3]  h. ;  used  a  Lillibric^  saddle,  but  no  lantern,  though  i  h.  of 
rooming  and  i  h.  of  night  were  quite  dark.  From  B.  I  went  to  Montpdier,  Middlesex,  More^ 
town  and  Wakefield,  36  m.  at  6.30  (|  h.  stop  for  breakfast) ;  back  by  same  road  to  near  Mont- 
pelier, thence  through  Northfield,  to  W.  Randolph,  70  m.,  at  1.35  {dinner  til!  3);  W.  Bethel,  E. 
Bethel  (supper);  £.  Randolph,  N.  Randolph,  £.  Brookfield,  Williamstown,  Barre,— doing 
last  37  m.  in  3^  h.  The  longest  day's  ride  previously  taken  in  Vt.  was  on  July  9,  '83,  by  two 
Rutland  boys,  W.  Egleston  and  N.  S.  Marshal,  100^  m.  I  have  ridden  from  Bellows  Falls  to 
Montpelier  and  Burlington,  and  call  the  roads,  as  a  whole,  fair.  From  B.  F.  to  Windsor, 
35  m.,  I  took  the  N.  H.  side  of  the  Conn,  river,  and  found  some  patches  of  sand;  thence  10 
White  River  Junction,  15  m.,  some  fine  stretches,  some  unridable ;  thence  to  Royahon,  ao  ra., 
ridable  but  rather  sandy ;  thence  to  Montpelier,  38  m.,  all  good  but  the  first  4  m.  (or,  for  better 
and  shorter  road,  turn  from  r.  r.  about  i  m.  beyond  R.,and  go  to  Williamstown  Gulf,  whence  to 
Barre  is  a  charming  run  of  10  m.);  M.  to  Burlington,  46  m.,  quite  fair,  with  some  spots  of 
sand.  Mt.  Mansfield,  highest  i>eak  of  the  Green  Mtns.,  where  a  superb  view  maybe  had,  is 
only  30  m.  from  Barre,  and  may  be  reached  by  a  half  day's  ride,  through  the  valley  and  Midd^ 
sex  Notch,  where  another  fine  sight  is  given  by  the  Winoodci  rushing  through  the  narrows." 

Vermont  supplied  3  days'  wheeling  in  the  1433  m.  tour  of  W.  B.  Page,  July  5  to  Aug.  33, 
'86.  His  earlier  rides  (7500  m.)  are  detailed  on  pp.  494-99,  and  his  report  to  me  of  Dec  iS,  *86, 
says :  "  In  my  delightful  summer  outing  of  50  days,  only  36  were  used  in  active  riding, — diow- 
ing  a  daily  average  of  about  59}  ro., — and  only  3  riding  days  were  stopped  by  rain.  I  had  only  3 
falls :  the  first  between  Saratoga  and  Lake  George,— the  others  between  Quebec  and  Mont- 
real. I  used  a  new,  full-nickeled  Expert,  which  I  had  ridden  80  m.,  a  few  days  before  starting. 
In  the  early  autumn,  I  indulged  in  499  m.  of  local  riding,  and  a  tour  of  158^  m.  to  Pottstown 
and  Reading.  At  the  end  of  Nov.,  I  took  a  run,  through  rain  and  snow,  140I  m.,  to  Winchester, 
Va., — doing  the  last  50  m.  in  8  h.,  through  about  6  in.  of  snow, — and  this  raised  the  total  of  my 
'86  record,  since  July  i,  to  3306  m.  I  was  5  days  in  riding  from  Phila.  to  Saratoga  (319  m., 
with  detours),  and  I  rested  there  as  well  as  at  Lake  George,  40  m.  beyond.  On  the  afternoon  of 
July  14,  I  wheeled  from  the  lake,  at  Baldwin's,  by  rutty  clay  roads,  through  Ticonderogaandthe 
old  fort,  to  W.  Cornwall,  Vt.  (no  hotel),  33  m.  On  15th,  10  a.  m.  to  5  p.  M.,  with  jaany  slops 
on  account  of  rain  and  mud,  through  Middlebury  (7  m.),  £.  M.  (6  m.),  and  by  vile  road  up  mtn. 
te  Ripton  and  the  Bread  Loaf  Inn  (6  m.),  near  the  summit.  Rain  fell  till  11.30  on  i6ith,  wbea 
I  walked  i  m.  to  summit,  and  thence  had  beautiful  descent  over  good  shale  road.  At  Han. 
cock  (10  ro.),  where  grand  effect  is  produced  by  closing  in  of  mtns.  on  adl  sides,  I  t.  r.,  at  t 
p.  M.,  and  followed  White  river,  along  a  fair  loam  road  to  Rochester  (4^  m.),  where  I  1. 1.  np 
the  last  and  steepest  spur  of  the  Green  Mtns. ,— walking  1}  m.  to  summit  at  3.30  p.  m.  De- 
scent, of  red  shale,  was  ridden,  and  surface  continued  fine  to  Bethel  (11  m.),  at  4.30;  then 
sandy,  along  the  river,  to  hotel  in  S.  Royalton  (8  m.),  at  6,~making  33^  m.  for  5I  b.  of  riding. 
On  17th,  by  good  mud  road  to  Chelsea  (14  m.),  where  t.  r.  and  walked  a  3  m.  hOl,  from  whoat 
top  I  rode  most  of  the  33  m.  te  Bradferd,  on  Omn.  river;  along  which,  by  good  limestone  road, 
winding  in  and  out,  with  fine  views  of  the  stream  and  the  White  Mtns.,  I  went  to  Wells  River 
(14  m.),  and  there  crossed  into  N.  H.  at  Woodville  and  walked  most  of  7  m.  of  tand  to  Bath" 
(For  conclusion  of  trip,  through  N.  H.  and  Me.,  see  pp.  577,  574. 

J.  D.  Upham  reports  {Vi.  Bicycle,  Sept.,  '86)  that  the  read  from  Bellows  Falls  te  Oast- 


SUMMARY  BY  STA  TES :   VERMONT. 


579 


«BODt  (N.  H.)i  29  m.y  is  mostly  good,  with  one  fine  5-in.  stretch;  then  10  m.  to  Windsor,  by 
rhrer  road :  but  a  better  route  from  C.  to  W.  is  by  Hanover  st.  and  the  Cornish  road.  7^  m.  n., 
mnd  then  5I  m.  w.  Rather  sandy  and  hilly  roads  prevail  for  16  m.  from  W.  to  Woodstock ;  and 
they  are  sandier  and  hillter  for  the  so  ro.  w.  from  Claremont  to  Rutland,— the  last  half,  Ludlow 
to  R.,  being  the  worst,  including  deep  sand  from  E.  Wallingford  to  R.  From  R.  to  Brandon, 
S7  m.  of  fairly  good  road ;  then  towards  Middlebury,  Mr.  U.  encountered  3  or  3  m.  of  sand,  and 
^Bd  not  explore  further.  The  best  stretch  between  C.  and  R.  is  the  level  7  m.  leading  into 
I^odlow.  The  old  stage  road,  which  is  the  continuation  of  R.'s  Main  st.  n.  towards  Pittsford, 
is  fairly  good,  and  the  road  between  R.  and  Proctor  is  still  better.  G.  P.  MacGowan  reports 
an  easy  3  h.  ride  of  18  m.  from  Middlebury  to  Larrabee's  Point,  where  ferry  boat  and  lake 
steamer  may  both  be  taken, — the  intermediate  towns  being  Cornwall,  6  m.,  and  Shoreharo, 
14^  m.  Wilmington,  xro  m.  from  Boston,  was  reached  in  a  2  days'  ride  by  G.  L.  Parroeley, 
who  "surfed  from  B.  at  4  a.  m.  of  Oct.  8,  '83,  and  rode  67  m.  to  Athol,  taking  breakfast  at 
Stowe,  23  m.  from  B.  and  14  m.  beyond  Waltham.  The  roads  continued  good  from  S.  for  17 
m.,  through  Lancaster  to  Leominster;  then  came  7  m.  of  up-hill  and  deep  sand  to  Westminster 
iyaoffx  route  through  Fhchbuig  would  have  been  easier) ;  then  20  m.  of  decent  riding,  through 
Oauxlocr  and  Temfdeton  to  A.  Next  day's  route  led  through  Orange,  and  the  3  N.  H.  towns  of 
Wipchnter,  Ashnelot  and  Hinsdale,  to  Brattleboro  (ridable  side-paths  where  road  is  sandy), 
Marlboro'  and  Wilmington  (a  very  steep  mtn.  had  to  be  walked,  between  M.  and  W. ,  and 
another  one  on  entering  N.  H.),  47  m.  Third  day's  ride  led  down-hill  6  m.  from  W.  to  Jack- 
sonville ;  then  13  m.  mostly  ridable  to  Coleraine ;  then  i  m.  up-grade  and  6  m.  easy  descent  and 
good  road  to  Greenfield ;  and  so  to  Deerfield,  Sunderland  and  N.  Hadley,  45  m.  Fourth  day, 
Amherst,  Belchertown,  Ware,  Hardwick  (36  m.),  Coldbrook,  Paxton,  Worcester  and  Boston, 
77  m.,->-a  total  of  333  m.  without  repetition.  Good  roads,  H.  to  P.,  then  7  m.  sandy  but  down- 
grade to  W."  The  St€tr  AdvocaU  (Nov.,  '86)  details  a  July  ride  of  170  m.  from  Milford, 
N.  H.,  to  Stowe,  Vt.  (excursion  thence  to  top  of  Mt.  Mansfield),  and  a  day's  return-ride  of 
61  m.  to  Royahon.  In  regard  to  the  rumor  that  the  Vt.  and  N.  H.  Divisions  would  jointly 
publish  a  road-book  of  the  two  States,  or  else  that  the  Vt.  Division  would  supply  material  for 
several  pages  in  the  forthcoming  book  of  the  N.  V.  Division,  I  received  the  following  denial, 
from  the  chief  consul  of  Vt.,  C.  G.  Ross,  Dec.  16,  '86 :  "I  have  found  it  almost  impossible  to 
get  any  reports  at  all,  as  to  roads,  from  Vt.  wheelmen  ;  and  my  own  riding  has  been  too  largely 
local  to  furnish  much  information."  Coiton's  maps  of  Vt.  are  40  by  30  in.,  $1.50 ;  18  by  14  in., 
50  c,  and  3 1  by  35  in.,  $1, — the  latter  containing  N.  H.  and  parts  of  adjoining  States. 

Massachusbtts  :  a6,  31,  43,  50,  99,  139,  133,  143-4,  148,  176-8,  182,  208,  246,  358-9,  269, 
295.  353i  363,  367.  372,  383.  385-6,  466,  480,  525,  579,  593,  594,  597.  609,  6io,  6x7,  618,  635,  627, 
631,643, 653-65,  673-80,  733,  766-9.  My  "  Boston  "  and  "  Springfield  "  chapters  report  a  pretty 
thorough  exploration  of  this  State,  tao*ia8;  "winter  wheeling"  around  S.,  with  sketch  of 
Bradley's  road-map,  351-54;  State  and  county , maps  and  atlases  and  local  guides,  111-113,  136,. 
673,  677,  700;  Southwick  to  S.,  146;  Sheffield  to  S.,  147,  lat ;  Williamstown  to  S.,  193  ;  Conn, 
valley,  179-81,  351,  377,  501;  Andover  to  State  Line,  ao8;  Worcester  to  Boston,  w.  d.,  514; 
through  tours,  479,  488,  500;  mileage  of  Mass.  *'  veterans,"  503-8,  510-14,  518,  524,  527,  529-30. 
During  the  3  years  since  Chap.  X.  was  written,  much  gravel  has  been  spread  in  the  environs  of 
S.,  for  the  bettering  of  the  roads.  Gates's  hill  (pp.  1 18,  183)  is  now  smooth  enough  to  be  readily 
ridden,  and  the  n.  ascent  from  the  r.  r.  crossing,  )ust  below  it,  is  also  ridable,  though  rough  and 
difficult.  This  is  6  m.  above  the  bridge  at  Hampden  Park ;  and  the  next  3  m.  n.  continue 
smooth  and  hard  along  a  level  ridge,  which  ends  with  a  fine  view  of  river  and  mtns.  where 
the  downward  slope  begins  towards  Smith's  Ferry.  Just  at  this  point  a  private  wood-road  or 
path  may  be  taken  by  a  pedestrian  who  wishes  to  scale  the  summit  of  Mt.  Tom, — cleaving  his 
wheel  at  the  adjacent  farm  house.  I  recommend  such  a  one  to  do  this,  in  preference  to  trying 
the  other  route  from  Craft's  comer,  1  m.  below,  with  its  2  m.  of  up-grade  to  the  half-way  house, 
aad  a  tramp  thence  to  the  summit  (p.  118).  No  pleasanter  spin  need  be  asked  for,  as  regards 
either  road^orfaoe  or  scenery  (in  fair  weather),  than  this  9  m.  stretch  n.  from  the  bridge ;  and, 
when  riddoa  t.,  it  may  be  covered  w.  d.  by  the  weakest  of  wheelmen,— for  its  single  sizable 


58o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

ascent  is  quite  smooth.  For  14I  m.  s.  of  the  bridge,  I  found  no  obstacle  to  cause  a  »top  in  Dec, 
'84  (p.  122),  and  th^  road  through  Agawam  has  been  improved  since  then.  Hence,  this  stra^^ 
run  down  the  valley,  24  m.,  may  be  readily  done  w.  d., — ^from  the  river  heights  opp.  Mt.  ioa 
to  thi  river  bank  below  Windsor  Locks.  The  "too  soft"  road  (p.  184)  from  Wiwimameit 
through  Chicopee  Street  to  the  town  hall  in  C,  3!  m.,  1  found  ail  ridabie  (Oct.  17,  'U6),— 4he 
latter  half,  from  the  church  s.,  having  an  excellent  gravel-ciay  surface,  while  the  n.  part  was 
tolerable,  in  sidi-paths  and  ruts,  though  its  scenery  is  mudi  poorer  than  that  of  the  fine  road  on 
the  w.  sidi  of  \\\t  nvor.  A  for  better  route  to  the  Meraurial  Church  than  that  named  on  p.  124 
may  now  be  had  by  riding  up  the  slops  n.  of  the  town  hall  in  C,  and  then  turning  r.  along  the 
r.  walk  of  thi  street  o>i  whose  1.  sidvS- stands  the  high-school  building, — for  thjjt  street  soon  leads 
into  Springfield  st.  (also  calbd  thi  Boulevard),  whose  I.  walk  may  be  kept  till  one  reaches  the 
smooth  graveled  roadway,  which  used  to  be  deep  Kind.  A  straight  1  m.  through  ibe  woods,  a 
sharp  and  somewhat  winding  descent  of  \  m.  (I  rode  up  this,  Nov.  14,  though  it  tired  rae),  and 
a  straight  }  m.  on  Ch<:stnut  St.,  will  bring  the  rider  to  the  comer  of  Carew  St.,  where  the  smooth 
gravel  ends,  and  th.:  rougher  macadam  begins,  on  both  streets.  This  is  3  m.  from  the  town  hall 
in  C. :  and  Carew  st.  ends  \  m.  w.,  at  Main  St.,  just  below  the  Memorial  Church.  If  a  rider 
wi-ih  :s  to  avoid  the  always  muddy  macadam,  and  the  horse-car  tracks,  of  Main  st.  (when  he  enteis 
the  city  from  the  n.  w.,  by  the  bridge  above  Hampden  Park)  let  him,  as  soon  as  he  passes  this 
church,  ride  thro'  Carew  to  Chestnut  and  a.  on  this  to  Worthington  st.  On  W.  be  may  t.  r.  to 
Main :  or  he  may  avoid  that  business  section  of  the  city  ei  tirely  by  maki  <g  a  t.  1.,  which,  at  the 
top  of  the  hill  (I  rode  up  this  by  great  effort,  Nov.  1 1),  will  bring  him  to  the  street  leading  r.  past 
the  U.  S.  Arntory,  to  State  st.,— the  old  lk)ston  road,— where  he  should  t.  1.,  if  bonnd  for  the 
latter  city.  In  going  across  the  plain  to  Indian  Orchard,  he  will  find  that  the  new  Inidge  onr 
the  r.  r.  track  and  th^  3  or  4  m.  of  new  gravel  will  enable  him  to  get  there  easily,  w.  d.  Oo 
Nov.  II,  I  mad;:  no  turn  at  the  Armory  comer,  on  State  st.,but  kept  straipht  s.,  through  WaW 
nut  St.,  \\  m.,  to  the  water-shops;  then  rode  up  the  hill  with  difficulty,  and  turned  a.  for  3}  m. 
to  E.  Lon.;pneadow,  where  6  roads  meet.  The  one  that  leads  w.  4  m.  10  the  main  ittreet  of  !..» 
at  the  church,  is  shut  in  by  woods  and  has  no  houses  upon  it.  The  surface  having  been  recently 
scraped  and  spoiled  by  the  "  menders,*'  and  darkness  overtaking  me,  I  walked  most  ti  the 
distance,  thou;^h  much  of  it  was  a  gentle  down-grade  and  I  encountered  only  one  piece  of  deep 
sand,  on  a  short  up-grade.  In  suramw>r,  when  trodden  by  traffic,  I  think  the  stretch  would 
mostly  b:  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  Pcoowsic 
hill,  whers  the  n.-bound  traveler  gets  his  first  view  of  the  river  and  of  Springfield,  whose  dty  haO 
is  %\  m.  above.  In  Oct.,  '86,  H.  E.  Ducker,  of  S.,  rode  s.  from  that  hill  w.  d.  through  L.  and! 
Enfield  to  the  new  bridge  leading  across  the  Conn,  river  from  Warehouse  Point  to  Windsor  Locks 
(10  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  afof«- 
mentioned  descent  opposite  Mt.  Tom.  Indeed,  \  think  a  50  m.  circuit  w.  d.,  with  no  repetitions, 
mi.{ht  b:  made  by  a  strong;  and  lucky  rider,  who,  starting  from  Craft's  comer,  should  go  e. 
across  the  bridgs  to  S.  Hadley  Falls,  then  s.  through  Willimansett  and  Chicopee, — for  I  believe 
the  hill  at  Pecowsic  has  been  several  times  ridden.  The  smoothest  and  pleasantest  short  dr- 
ctiit  in  the  environs  of  S.  has  been  already  hinted  at,  thus :  Chestnut  st  at  Orew,  to  MemoriaT 
Church,  to  North  bridge,  to  CHiicopee  bridge,  to  town  hall,  to  \C\f\i  sdiool,  to  Boulevard,  ands. 
to  starting  point,  8  m.  Four  short  and  easily  ridable  ascents  are  the  only  obstacles  on  thb  roote^ 
and  about  {  of  its  surface  are  of  almost  ideal  smoothness,  in  good  weather. 

An  8  days'  circuit  of  364  m.,  including  every  State  in  New  England,  was  begun  Maya8,'86^ 
at  3  p.  M.,  by  a  trio  of  Hartford  riders,  who  finished  at  Pawtncket,  June  5,  at  1  p.  m.  Fmm 
report  in  BtdUtin  (Dec  3,  pp.  SSo-S<\  ^  \t»xi\  that  they  "coasted  down  the  1  m-  n.  a^npeof 
Mt.  Tom,  though  it  made  their  hair  rise  "  j  and  from  report  in  S^mgfitld  Unum  (Sept.  7,  'Sftj^ 
I  team  tliat  good  side-path  riding  may  be  had  from  foot  of  ratn.  to  the  r.  r.  station  calM  Ml 
Tom,  3  m.,  except  that  the  overhanging  apple-trees  are  apt  to  scrape  off  the  rider's  hat  (see  i^ 
1 18,  670).    P.  406  in  Buiktin  of  Oct.  15,  '86,  described  the  suburban  riding  of  Boston^  " 


SUMMARY  BY  STATES:   MASSACHUSETTS.      581 

Tienced  by  a  Western  man,"  John  R.  Clarke ;  and  p.  294,  in  issue  of  Sept.  17,  described  the 
.  -**  many  miles  of  well-made  roads  in  the  3  valleys  of  the  Berkshire  Hills."  The  BtUUtm  (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  sumn^er,  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.  in),  and  will  render 
unnecessary  the  cheaper  affair  authorized  in  Feb.  (p.  677)  and  the  club  book  which  Mr.  Pratt 
intended  to  compile  (p.  67S).  "  History  of  the  Conn.  Valley  in  Mass."  (Philadelpliia  :  L.  H. 
Kverts;  '79,  4to,  a  vols.,  11 13  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 
hs  preface  mentions  J.  G.  Holland's  "  Hist,  of  Western  Mass.,"  as  a  standard  reference-book. 

Rhodk  Isi^nd  :  31,  43,  39s.  $08,  593,  597, 615,  617,  618, 628,  631,  643,  670,  769,  800.  My 
fXMite  to  Pawtucket,  Warren  and  Bristol, — thence  back  to  Providence  and  Woonsocket,  107-9; 
student's  route  from  B.  to  Middletown  and  Newport,  108 ;  clergyman's  report  from  E.  Green- 
wich, 512.  Maps,  113,  1x3,  149,  177,  293,  352.  Cotton's  map  of  R.  I.  (32  by  27  in.,  $1.50)  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.,  18  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,  no,  155,  197,  230,  246,  248,  258,  295,  352,  466,  500,  593, 
597*  ^>  6'o>  ^17*  ^<8,  62S,  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, 
143,  149.  My  "winter  wheeling  "  between  Greenwich,  N.  H.,  H.  and  S.,  248-53,  122.  Maps, 
99,  1x2,  113,  148,  177,  293.  Dr.  Tyler's  statistics,  510.  On  Oct.  4,  '86,  I  wheeled  from  N.  H. 
to  West  Springfield,  64^  m.  by  Pope  cyclom.,  9.15  a.  h.  to  8.15  p.  m., — the  last  2  h.  in  the  moon- 
light. Tliis  was  one  of  the  longest  rides  I  ever  took  in  1 1  h. ;  and  in  all  previous  tours  between 
those  two  points  I  had  spent  ij^  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.  Carmel,  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  1  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  htm  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  I."  (7th  line  from  bottom).  He  told  me,  also,  that  the  old  turnpike  which  goes  in 
a  bee-line  for  10  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  3  h.)  and  wrote  the  description  on  p.  136;  and 
he  said  I  could  save  time  by  taking  it,  instead  of  the  longer,  more  civilized  and  less  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  $  of  the  many  other  up-grades.    The  surface  itself  was  all 


S84  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

that  the  city's  noblest  avenue  shall  never  be  cut  and  bound  by  the  vulgar  tyranny  of  the  mm 
rails.  Their  formal  threat,  however,  forced  the  friends  of  the  avenue  to  at  once  enliven  it  wiik 
an  omnibus  line,  and  improved  vehicles  were  put  upon  the  same  at  the  dose  of  Sept.,  t^L 
These  run  from  the  Bleecker  st.  station  of  the  elevated  r.  r.,  just  below  Washington  Sq.,  to  Ces- 
tral  Park,  at  59th  sL ;  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  involTe  aa 
immense  expenditure  of  money,  have  been  awarded  since  the  firing  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  tlie  real  reason  for  New  York's  stolid  sticking  lo 
stone  blocks,  in  face  of  the  universally  acknowledged  superiority  of  a^halt.  It  says  that  coa- 
tractors  for  the  latter  pavement  can  be  held  strictly  to  their  promises,  because  bad  «tnic  is  ao 
easily  detected  tlut  it  doesn't  pay ;  whereas  contraaors  for  stone  blocks  can  hoodwink  all  but 
the  most  scientific  and  painstaking  of  inspectors,  and  can  with  difficulty  be  convicted  of  actoal 
fraud  in  respect  to  material  and  workmansliip.  Hence  they  can  afford  a  bribery-fund  ^  the 
wrinoing  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  theory ;  bat  I  feel 
disheartened  by  the  unkind  fate  which  gives  another  costly  coating  of  rough  stone  blocks  to  onr 
famous  "  street  of  palaces,"  and  thus  postpones  beyond  my  life-time  the  happy  day  when  die 
bicycler  can  glide  northward  from  Washington  Square  on  as  smooth  a  surface  as  he  mi^t  find 
along  the  show-streets  of  other  civilized  capitals. 

Horse^xir  tracks  now  somewhat  impair  the  pleasure  of  riding  on  the  Boulevard,  from  sgtli 
to  125th  St. ;  and  another  new  line  runs  from  the  latter  s.  e.  to  £.  iioth  st.  and  throngh  it  to 
ferry,  where  boat  may  be  taken  across  to  Astoria.  Cars  also  run  through  42nd  st.  directly  fraa 
the  West  Shore  ferry  to  the  central  r.  r.  terminus  on  4th  av.  Since  p.  9S  was  printed,  '*  the 
fence  "  has  been  removed  from  the  ii6th  st.  station  on  8th  av.,  so  that  new  payment  of  fare  is 
no  longer  needed  in  making  transfer  betvreen  trains  going  in  opposite  directions.  The  rate  was 
reduced  to  $  c  at  all  hours,  on  all  the  elevated  lines,  Oct.  1,  '86.  The  same  fare  also  prevaib 
on  Brooklyn's  elevated  r.  r.,  which  was  opened  between  the  big  Bridge  and  East  New  Yofk 
in  the  summer  of  '85.  On  Sundays,  when  D.,  L.  &  W.  trains  do  not  run,  the  best  mode  ol 
transfer  between  N.  Y.  and  the  "  Orange  triangle  "  (p.  159)  is  given  by  the  Eric  (23rd  st.  and 
Chambers  St.,  about  8.30  a.  m.  ;  no  charge  for  wheels),  to  Bloomfiekl  av.  in  Newark,  or  Maia 
St.  in  O.,— returning  about  5  p.  m.  An  excellent  cycling  map  of  the  "  triangle  "  (1  m.  to  i  in.) 
showing  its  mac.  and  other  good  roads,  is  on  the  same  sheet  with  a  similar  maps,  showii^  the 
chief  roads  of  Long  Island,  w.  of  a  line  drawn  from  Cold  Spring  Harbor  to  Amityvillc, — whidi 
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.  13  adv.  pp. ;  doth  and  gilt ;  weight  3  as. ;  prioi 
%i ;  see  pp.  625,  678).  This  book  also  contains  smaller  maps  of  the  whole  island  and  of  States 
IsUad,  described  on  pp.  158,  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  horae-driver  who  travels 
on  either  island  ought  to  buy  this  compact  little  book,  for  its  many  special  features.  Besides  the 
20  pp.  of  tabulated  routes  on  L.  I.,  there  are  22  others,  including  nearly  all  those  described  ia 
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  conscci 
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  Yookers.  Thii 
map  will  doubtless  be  reproduced  in  the  official  road-book  of  the  New  York  Division,  which  ihs 


SUMAfARY  BY  STATES:    NEW  YORK.  585 

.BmUetm  says  (Dec  17,  '86,  p.  593)  will  probably  appear  in  Mar.  and  conuin  about  200  pp.,  oa 
the  Penn.  model.  Present  members  of  the  Division  will  each  receive  a  free  copy,  but  those  who 
join  during  the  snd,  3rd  and  4th  quarters  mast  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  $1. 
Ail  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,  Due.  z8,  '86). 

The  rules  of  Dec  4,  '84,  for  the  restriction  of  cycling  in  Central  Park  (p.  94},  have  not  been 
liberalized  in  the  two  years  since, — except,  I  believe,  that  the  queer  discrimination  against  tricy- 
des  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-approaches) ;  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- 
noticecL  The  H^ketlol  Oct.  09,  '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  citisens,  in  respect  to  having  equal  rights  upon  all  the  drive-ways  of 
the  parks, — \aal  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  cycles  from  the  other  and  less-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  interviews  with  the  commissioners, 
the  president  of  whom,  H.  R.  Beekman,  was  Democratic  candidate  for  the  presidency  of  the 
Board  of  AULermen ;  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  Uke  the  form  of  pressure  through  the  New  York  Legislature. 

The  Brooklyn  cor.  of  the  Bul/eitM  {iJovi  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 
IVketl ol  St^i.  19,  and  by  "  L.  \.  Road-Book,"  Mar.,  '86),  which  says  that. each  wheelman 
most  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  C^ney  Island  (but  Central 
Park  badges,  when  worn  by  visitors  from  the  city,  will  be  recognized  as  a  proper  substitute ;  and 
other  visiters  may  procure  temporary  permits,  at  certain  times  and  places  whereof  they  may  learn 
at  the  Litchfield  Mansion).  So  stands  the  law  of  Aug.,  '8$  ;  but  no  badges  were  really  issued 
vntil  June,  '86,  "and  in  Aug.,  after  about  $300  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  comtnissioners  "  at  the  suggestion 
ol  the  most  experienced  riders  in  the  Brooklyn  dubs/'  the  names  of  those  mi^uided  ones  ought 


586 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


to  be  nailed  up  for  general  execration.  I  do  not  believe  that  any  competent  cycler  wiD  evcrke 
dismissed  from  Brooklyn's  boulevards  for  lack  of  a  badge;  and  1  hope  that  the  maaagerv  afin 
chief  pleasure-park,  who  have  been  warmly  praised  by  me  for  intelUgcnoe  and  good-natine  (p. 
92),  will  never  di^race  it  and  themselves  by  favoring  any  such  silly  flummery  as  oompuiseiy 
badge-wearing  for  those  who  wish  to  wheel  within  its  limits.  The  only  pretext  that  I  an  await 
of  for  even  making  the  threat  of  such  a  thing— after  6  years'  safe  eaqierience  with  badgdcas  and 
unregistered  wheelmen  in  Prospect  Park— was  the  death  of  a  little  girl  (June  3,  '85,  ae.  z\  caned 
by  a  careless  boy,  riding  at  dangerous  speed  upon  one  of  the  park  walks,  who  jumped  frwn  hk 
bicycle  and  let  it  fall  upon  her.  But  he  made  no  attempt  to  sneak  away  from  the  reapooaifailiiy 
of  his  unfortunate  act,  and  he  was  duly  forthcoming  when  the  jury  ordered  his  arrest  for  colps- 
ble  negligence.  I  suppose  the  illogical  public,  who  take  no  thought  of  the  hundreds  of  cfaiUrea 
annually  killed  by  horses  and  wagons,  raised  some  sort  of  a  clamor  over  the  event ;  and  that  the 
restrictions  of  Aug.,  '85,  were  proclaimed  by  way  of  peace^iffering.  They  were,  in  fasx  (ex- 
cept the  "  badge  order,"  which  has  always  been  a  dead-letter),  a  logical  and  practica]  improve^ 
ment  on  previous  rules,  for  they  gave  wheelmen  the  right  of  way  through  the  park  on  the  West 
Drive,  instead  of  on  the  sidewalks,  at  all  hours.  Even  the  restrictions  as  to  sidewalks  ap|#y 
only  to  the  half-year,  May  i  to  Oct.  31,  and  to  the  hours  10  a.  m.  to  7  p.  m.  during  that  haH-fear: 
for,  at  all  other  times,  all  the  paths  may  be  ridden  upon,— and  the  paths  from  the  s.  eatraace. 
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  112  St.  Fefix  sL, 
which  is  within  a  half-block  of  the  asphalt,  and  abandoned  366  Livingston  st.  (pp.  97,  770). 
The  L.  I.  Wheelmen,  having  absorbed  tbe  Bedford  C.  C,  are  now  (Dec,  '86)  lookli«  fcr 
larger  quarters.  C.  Schwalbach  will  use  their  old  house  as  a  bi.  agency.  Since  p.  96  was  printed, 
the  three  clubs  there  named  have  all  chai^^ed  their  abodes,— the  time  of  transfer  in  the  first  two 
cases  being  about  the  xst  of  May,  '86.  The  N.  Y.  B.  C.  now  have  the  hoose  at  \ax  W. 
58th  St. ;  the  Citizens  B.  C,  338  W.  6o(h  (newly  numbered  as  "  a6  W.  60th  **) ;  the  Irion  & 
C,  351  W.  S9th  St.  (Oct.,'85),and  the  Harlem  Wheelmen  Z04  W.  124th  st.  (for  lists  of  memfaen, 
see  pp.  773-4) ;  while  the  Citizens'  former  house,  313  W.  58th  St.,  is  now  leased  as  a  cydtag sales- 
room, riding  school  and  repair-shop,  by  G.  R.  Bidwell,  vdio  hal  taken  thither  the  business  ac- 
credited to  him  on  p.  96,  as  at  £.  60th  st.  The  new  numbering  of  the  CStizens'  present  boose  > 
results  from  an  edia  of  the  aldermen,  in  the  autumn  of  *86,  that  the  streets  running  w.  fraa 
Central  Park  (60th  to  zogth  ind.)  shall  have  their  houses  numbered  i,  2,  3  and  so  on,  from  8tli 
av.  (which  is  the  w.  border  of  the  park),  just  as  if  it  were  5th  av.,  which  is  the  park's  e:  border. 
As  explained  on  pp.  65-66,  the  "  e."  and  "  w."  enumeration,  for  the  whole  region  above  Wash* 
ington  Square,  has  hitherto  started  from  5th  av.  as  a  central  line ;  and  that  so  intelligible  sad 
convenient  a  system  should  be  thrown  into  confusion,  for  the  sake  of  gratifying  tbe  vanity  of 
those  residents  who  object  to  "  unfashtonably  high  numbers  "  (see  p.  452),  seems  a  freak  anic 
suited  to  fickle  Paris  than  sedate  America. 

Since  my  reports  about  Niagara  were  put  in  type  (pp.  203,  315,  335),  the  cnriroas  of  tlwt 
noble  waterfall  have  been  formally  assumed  by  the  State  of  New  York,  for  a  public  park  (Jaly 
i5i  '&5) ;  3^ncl  the  tourist  is  thus  given  a  new  motive  for  turning  his  wheel  thither,  and  aeeii^  with 
his  own  eyes  how  grand  a  piece  of  nature  has  been  everlastingly  rescued  from  the  mill-owM» 
and  the  hackmen.  I  have  been  told  that  many  charming  views  along  the  Hudacm  may  be  hsd, 
and  the  hill-climbing  between  Yonkers  and  Hastings  may  at  the  same  time  be  avoided,  if,  in- 
stead of  walking  up  the  rough  hill  at  the  end  of  Warburton  av.  (as  noted  at  foot  of  pl  7SX  the 
tourist  keeps  due  n.  on  the  aqueduct ;  for  the  2  or  3  fences  which  cross  it  can  be  easily  got  ofcr. 
My  remark  (p.  81)  that  a  tourist  had  best  turn  inland  from  the  Hudson  at  Piermont,  to  SpaildB 
and  other  towns,  "  because  the  path  on  top  of  the  Palisades,  from  Alpine  to  S.,  would  presaB> 
ably  demand  more  walking  than  riding,"  deserves  modification  by  these  words  of  an  actual  ex- 
plorer (li^heei,  Aug.  13,  '86) :  "  In  approaching  A.  from  s.,  a  large  white  house  on  the  roadnde 
is  a  sort  of  landmark,  for  there  the  av.  turns  somewhat  to  1.,  up  a  long  hill,  by  the  side  of  haft 
rocks ;  a  branch  road  t.  r.;  and  a  short  road  (1.),  slightly  up-hill,  leads  to  A.  itself,  whence  one 
may  go  to  Nyack  by  coasting  down  a  rather  rough  and  sandy  hill,  and  following  tbe  very  sandy 


SUMMARY  BY  STATES:  NEW  YORK.  587 

Valley  road.  I  think  it  far  pleasanter,  however,  to  keep  straight  along  Palisade  av.,  up  the 
long  haU»  for  the  surface  is  fair,  though  the  crown  of  the  mac.  is  somewhat  worn.  The  av.  is 
shady  and  cool»  but  without  any  houses,  and  there  are  several  sandy  turnings  from  it  1.  into  the 
Valley  road.  When  the  av.  ends,  in  a  sort  of  common,  descend  across  this  to  a  broken  path 
through  a  gulley,  and  then  up  to  the  1.,  i^  m.  of  rough  walking  through  the  woods,  to  an  enclosed 
pasture.  Beyond  the  further  fence,  t  r.,  along  a  very  fair  dirt  road,  until  you  reach  a  square 
with  a  fl^-pole ;  1. 1,  around  the  church.  A  fine  coast  may  be  had  just  before  reaching  Sparkill, 
where  keep  to  r.  of  little  lake  and  cross  it  at  lower  end,  for  straight  road  through  Piermont  to 
Nsrack."  As  regards  my  allusion  on  p.  198  to  probable  route  between  N.  and  Suffem,  it  was 
tried  Sept  5,  '86,  by  £.  J.  Shriver,  and  another  member  of  the  N.  Y.  B.  C,  who  reported  : 
"  Of  the  15  m.,  there  were  not  a  m.  which  did  not  offer  fair  riding.  We  took  breakfast  at 
Nanuet,  x  h.  after  leaving  Nyack;  dinner  at  Tuxedo,  x  h.  after  leaving  Sufifem,  and  continued 
through  Turners  to  Chester,  4a  m.  from  the  start.  Next  day,  we  had  another  leisurely  ride  of 
43  m.,  through  Goshen,  Middletown,  Cuddebackville  and  Port  Jervis  to  Milford,  7.30  a.  m.  to 
6  p.  M.  Our  whole  route  was  very  well  chosen,  both  as  regards  road-surface  and  scenery.''  I 
therefore  recommend  it  to  every  through  tourist  between  Port  J.  and  N.  Y.  or  Boston,  for  it 
allows  him  a  trial  of  the  25  m.  of  mac.  s.  of  Tarrytown.  Instead  of  trying  this,  and  then  the 
shore  route  to  Port  Chester  (p.  247),  however,  a  tourist  from  P.  J.  to  B.  may  go  direct  from  T. 
to  P.  C,  by  route  shown  on  p.  74.  See  p.  167  for  routes,  Newark  to  Suffem.  As  for  my  ex- 
pressed hope  of  ridable  roads  in  the  Adirondacks  (p.  aiz), — a  region  about  which  the  official 
road'book  promises  to  say  little, — the  Bulletin  (Sept.  17,  '86,  p.  326)  quotes  a  Pittsbuiig  writer's 
story  that  two  friends  of  his  would  finish  in  Oct.  a  four  months'  exploration  of  that  wilderness, 
and  would  probably  produce  a  wheelman's  illustrated  road-book, — "  as  they  have  found  far  bet- 
ter wheeling  than  expected,  and  not  over  half  the  distances  unridable." 

The  summary  of  W.  S.  Bull's  "  Western  New-York  Road  Book  "  (pp.  221-223)  may  b« 
supplemented  by  some  remarks  which  the  President  of  the  Jamestown  B.  C,  C.  E.  Gates,  of 
Gerry,  sent  to  me  July  26,  '85  :  "A  pleasant  day's  run  may  be  made  by  wheel  arotmd  C^utauqua 
Lake  (20  m.  long,  and  a  m.  wide  at  its  broadest) ;  or  the  round  trip  may  be  taken  in  4  h.,  by  re- 
sorting to  one  of  the  20  steamers,  which  start  at  almost  every  hour  of  the  day  during  summer. 
The  first  week  in  August  is  as  good  a  time  as  any  to  visit  the  place.  The  road  from  Chautauqua 
to  Panama  Rocks  (10  m.)  is  somewhat  hilly,  but  the  wheelman  would  be  well  repaid  for  going 
over  it,  even  if  he  had  to  walk  all  the  way.  A  5-m.  ride  from  Fredonia  brings  the  tourist  to 
Cassadaga,  at  the  head  of  the  valley  of  that  name,  where  there  are  three  clear  water  lakes,  each 
about  I  m.  long,  extending  in  a  chain  about  a  piece  of  land  periiaps  }  m.  square.  Two  associa- 
tions of  spiritualists  camp  out  here  in  August,  and  there  is  excellent  fishing  in  these  and  the 
adjoining  '  mud  lakes,'  where  bull-heads  can  be  caught  by  dozens,  any  night.  Both  sides  of 
the  road  from  Fredonia  to  Cassadaga  are  well-shaded  by  trees,  and  though  the  hills  require  some 
walking,  the  picturesque  scenery  repays  the  effort.  About  \\  m.  s.  of  Laona  may  be  seen  a 
'  hog-back  '  \  m.  long.  This  is  the  name  given  to  a  freak  of  nature  where  the  soil  slides  off  from 
both  sides  of  a  hill,  leaving  a  ridge  about  a  foot  wide,  with  almost  perpendicular  ^des."  I  quote 
the  road-book  further :  From  Fredonia  to  Mayville,  17  m.,  the  first  7  m.  (to  Brocton,  where  1. 1.) 
are  called  "  excellent,  level  gravel,"  and  the  rest,  "dirt,  hilly  but  fair."  The  same  adjectives 
apply  to  the  10  m.  gravel  road  from  Sherman  to  Chautauqua,  which  is  thus  noted :  "  Half-way, 
at  Summerdale  t.  r.  At  next  comers  t.  r.,  at  next  t.  1.  After  this  nearly  straight  line  to  Chau- 
tauqua Lake.  On  reaching  lake  road  t.  r."  From  Sherman  to  Jamestown,  23  m.,  through 
Panama  and  Ashville,  "  is  a  gravel  and  hard  clay  road,  with  a  slight  sprinkling  of  sand.  It  is 
good  all  the  way.  Moderately  hilly,  but  mostly  ridable.  Panama  Rocks  is  the  chief  point  of 
interest."  A  hilly  route,  d.,  f.,  leads  from  Sherman  to  Findley's  Lake,  8  m.,  thus  :  "  T.  1.  at 
school  house,  then  t  r.  and  keep  straight  away  w. ;"  and  this  is  the  direction  for  20  m.  of  good 
gravel  from  S.  to  Corry :  "T.  1.  at  Sherman  Center;  at  second  '  four  comers,'  t.  r.,  next  t.  1. 
Take  1.  f.  via  Columbus."  From  Sherman  to  Westfield,  33  m.,  by  way  of  Volusia,  "  there  is  a 
good  gravel  surface,  and  the  hills  are  mostly  ridable ;  take  the  old  plank  road."  From  Westfield 
to  Mayville,  "  7  m.  of  gravel  road,  with  some  sand ;  all  up-hill  "  (see  p.  206). 


588  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.  McMSfaa, 
Plrk  Superintendent,  and  showing  the  park  system,  b  published  by  Matthews,  Nortfanqi  &  Ca., 
at  the  office  of  the  Express  ;  and  another  one  (a8  by  x8  in.,  about  ^  m.  to  i  in.)  is  pub&lied  by 
Peter  Paul  &  Bro.,  at  363  Main  st.  The  attractions  of  the  city  as  a  scene  for  the  sixzh  amnal 
meet  of  the  League  were  thus  described  (S.  IV.  G.,  June,  18S5} :  "  Buffalo  is  full  of  trees  aad 
foliage,  and  is  constantly  fanned  by  breezes  from  the  lake,  so  that  it  is  always  cool  and  shady  b 
summer  time.  It  has  a  beautiful  system  of  drive-ways,  and  parks,  and  more  m.  of  asphalt  pavi*K 
than  any  other  city  except  Washington.  The  streets  up-town  are  lined  with  faandsonK  resi- 
dences, and  bordered  with  rows  of  large  trees,  making  at  once  pleasing  contrasts  in  ardutcctoR, 
and  a  grateful  shade  for  the  wheehnan  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 
wiih  it  in  the  beauty  of  their  buildings.  Both  Delaware  av.  and  North  st.  are  asphalted,  as  m 
also  Linwood  av.— a  broad  and  beautiful  street  one  block  east  of  Delaware.  By  way  of  Ncrtli 
St.  the  wheelman  reaches  '  the  circle,'  a  broad,  circular  plaza,  from  which  wide  and  1 
streets  radiate  in  all  directions.  This  is  the  grand  rendezvous  for  Buffalo  wheelmen,  and  s 
all  the  club  runs  and  tours  start  from  it.  Northwestward  stretches  the  broad,  smooth  i 
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  tiea 
and  shrubs.  Here  is  obtained  the  first  good  view  of  Lake  Erie.  At  the  northern  eod*of  *  ^ 
front '  stands  the  military  post  known  as  Fort  Porter,  occupied  by  two  companies  of  the  33d  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  wer» 
printed  in  the  Bulletin  (Aug.  6,  Aug.  13,  Nov.  12,  '86;  pp.  128,  154,  497), — the  latest  being  bj 
F.  J.  Shepard,  of  the  Buffnh  Courier ^  who  describes  the  process  of  laying  the  inuvenaly 
popular  asphalt,  whereof  the  city  now  boasts  nearly  30  m.  At  585  Main  St.,  E.  N. 
(a  practical  mechanic,  the  successor  of  Bull  &  Bowen)  makes  a  specialty  of  bi.  repairs. 

Nbw  Jbrsby  :  28,  31,  42,  51,  64,  7a,  155,  157,  158,  295,  387,  487,  500,  593-4,  609-iOi,  6ti, 
6x7,  6z8,  628,  631,  643,  668-9, 733i  ZT^-S-  Chap.  XIII.  (159-78)  gives  my  own  explorations  beic, 
supplemented  on  pp.  80-85,  583.  Reports  of  local  riders,  164,  170,  508-zo,  531-a,  530.  Maps 
and  guides,  99, 100, 159,  168, 174-8,  589.  Nos.  z,  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  S  m.  oet 
of  Westfield  was  issued  by  Dr.  F.  A.  Kinch,  jr..  League  consul.  A  large-scale  map  of  ''the 
Orange  triangle,"  reproduced  from  the  city  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  safe 
and  rent  of  cycles,  is  close  beside  the  East  Orange  station  of  the  D.,  L.  &  W.  r.  r.  I  know  ol  no 
other  place  where  ladies  of  the  metropolis  may  so  conveniently  and  unobtrusively  learn  the  ait 
of  tricycling,— 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  inis 
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  triib 
in  the  region  of  Central  Park.  Trains  are  frequent,  and  the  round  trip  costs  but  50  c.  On  June 
20,  '86,  between  midnight  and  10.27  <*•  m.,  Mr.  J.  and  his  wife  drove  a  Beeston  Humber  tandoi 
150}  m.  (r.  t.,  16  h.  37  min.)  over  a  tolerably  level  circuit  of  13  m.  The  first  60  m.  were  done  at 
6.25  A.  M.  (stop  for  breakfast  till  8.5) ;  zoo}  m.  at  13.40  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-makcn,  for 
most  of  the  distance ;  and  the  tri.  used  was  the  same  on  which  they  made  an  English  tour  of 
858  m.  in  Oct.,  '85  (p.  530).  As  regards  the  illegal  local  by-laws  mentioned  at  foot  of  p.  725.  Mr. 
J.  wrote  (o  me,  Dec.  28  :  "  No  one  has  been  arrested  for  breaking  them,  although  they  are 
universally  broken."  On  p.  82,  the  "disagreeable  suburb  of  Newark"  should  not  be  called 
"  Marion,"  for  that  name  belongs  to  the  Penn.  r.  r.  station  at  Bergen  hill.  In  bod  vreather, 
the  preferable  route  from  N.  to  N.  Y.  is  the  one  named  at  foot  of  p.  8a ;  but  at  other  time*, 
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  Avondale, 


SUMMARY  BY  STA  TES :  NEW  JERSEY.  589 

[  follow  side-inlhs  and  board-walks  3I  m.  to  Carlstadt,  where  descend  r.  by  so-called  Paterson 
raad  aod  cross  the  inanhcs  (pp.  166,  ic>i,  2(3).     From  C.  lo  ihe  mac.  of  bjr^eu  Line  tiuu.cvard 
C/.  ^.,  to  the  lop  of  the  West  Shore  tuuuei,  p.  tU)  is  6^  m.,  wtiich  I  found  all  ridable,  Apr.  19,  '^6, 
^vben  I  covered  it  iu  the  opposite  direction.     1  wheeied  dunv.i  a  steep  hill  at  the  first  1.  turn  s.  of 
the  tunnel  to  the  Kac^e.isuc*  road  v3  ln•^  at  a  poiut  a  iiiUe  s.  of  (hj  toll-gate  at  the  cemeter/ 
tp.  84) ;  th^n  went  s.  ^  m. ;  ihea  t.  r.  to  the  mor^thes  1^  m.  10  fur.c,  where  t.  r.  and  went  3  in.  to 
second  bridge,  where  road-houso  sign  says  "  9  m.  to  PatenMtu.'*     Bciween  here  and  r.  r.  ai  toot 
of  hill  at  C.  is  i\  in.  of  cay.  which  would  give  trouble  i.i  wet  weathtr.    A  rider  from  C.  to  N. 
Y.  need  not  t.  n.,  aftsr  crowia^  marshes,  but  may  go  directly  up-hill  to  a  point  near  the  Monas- 
tery, and  thsnce  to  f  ^rriss  enteria^  the  city  at  Jay  St.,  X4th  St.,  42nd  st.  or  130th  St.,  as  shown  on 
pp>.  8j,  84,  1^,  s'kx     If  h3  prcferii  my  o<vn  roate  to  the  Boulevard,  he  may  theuce  get  to  ih2 
lerriM  with  eqiul  ease.     As  reg.vJs  extending  this  mac.  Boul.  la  m.  s.  to  S.  I., — mentioned  on 
p.  84  as  a  remote  possibi.ity,— the  Governor  of  N.  J.  has  lately  decided  that  the  vote  iu  favor  of 
it  was  legal,  and  work  will  soon  be  begun  (iVheei^  Nov.  26,  '66,  p.  94).     In  Btt/ltim  {Oct.  8, 
*86,  p.  3SS),  William  Princs,  of  Orange,  gave  an  extended  history  of  roads  in  that  region,  and 
•hcirt  riding  routes  bsyond  it.    The  most  extensive  cycling  trade  in  the  State  is  accredited  to  H. 
A.  Smith  &  Co.,  who  succeeded,  in  the  spring  of  '66,  to  the  "Z.  &  S."  good- will  at  Oraton 
Hall,  Newark  (pp.  83,  712),  and  whose  "corner-store"  stiil  serves  as  a  wheelman's  landmark. 
Pennsylvania  :    12,  a8, 31, 4a»  44»  46,  Sj,  99»  »68,  177,  17S,  222,  asS  296,  300,  302, 323, 337, 
»47.  479.  485*  4*^71  5«>f  503.  5*3.  S**.  593A  609-10,  617-18,  625,  628, 631,  643, 652,  660,  671,  677, 
678,  778-81.     My  rides  along  Lake  Erie,  205-6;  along  the  Delaware  to  the  Water  Gap,  207 ;  to 
Bristol  and  Phila.,  173;  in   P.,  23S;  P.  to  Chester,  372;  Towanda  to  Wilkesbarre,  219-20; 
straight  across  the  State,  Su8qu:hanna  to  Greencastle,  339-1 1«  39^ ;  Waynesboro  to  Getty^bvirg 
mnd  Eaaton(i65  m.),  3S5-7.     W.  W.  Darnell's  tour,  Phiia.  to  Meyersdale  (322  m.),  244.     W. 
B.  Page's  tours,  Phila.  to  Pittsburg  (339  m  ),  49');  Wiiltams(X)rt  to  Greencastle  (205  m.),  493; 
Phila.  to  Water  Gap  and  beyond,  497»  5/3  i  H,  J.  High's  tour,  Pottstown  to  Pittsburg  (a8i  m.), 
48$,  3$i.    In  the  Alleghaniis,  2is»  Sio-    Susquehanna  tow-path,  378.    Trips  from  Scranton, 
S40L     Beaver  Valley,  515.     Environs  of  Phila.,  i6|,  377,  388-9,  495,  497,  499,  522.     Whoever 
attempts  any  touring  in  this  State  should  carry  with  him  the  League's  official  road-book,  whose 
sst  e(L  is  fully  discribsd  on  p.  177,  and  who^3  3rd  ed.  (2000  printed,  Apr.,  '86 ;  208  pp.,  8  maps) 
as  rerised  and  enlarged  by  the  addition  of  4S  pp.,  with  an  index  referring  to  65S  Penn.  towns  on 
the  tabulated  routes.     Penn.,  N.  J.  and  Md.  members  receive  the  book  gratis;  other  League 
men  may  buy  it  for  $1,  but  it  is  not  sold  to  whselmsn  who  do  not  join  the  League.    All  visitora 
are  welcomed,  however,  at  the  ronm%  of  the  Phila.  *'  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Cy- 
diog,*'  S  3.  Merrick  St.,  opp.  th^  Public  Buildings.    Th^  dedicatory  meeting  was  on  Apr.  19, 
'86,  when  E.  M.  Aaron  was  chosen  president.     He  may  be  found  also  at  ths  oflke  otthi  L.A, 
W,  BuiUtin^  506  Walnut  St.,  Room  12.     Dedication  was  made  D5C.  3,  '86,  of  the  Phila.  B.  C.'s 
new  bailding,  at  cor.  of  26ih  and  Pirot  sts.,  whns?  cost  was  about  $17,000 ;  and  another  expen- 
•ive  structure  is  in  process  of  erection  by  thj  Penn.  B.  C.  (pp.  779-80).    Th?  chief  ho-is?  in  the 
cycling  trade  of  Phila.  is  at  8ti  Arch  st,  conducted  by  H.  B.   Hart,  one  of  tha  found  jrs  of  the 
League,  and  a  local  pioneer  in  thi  literature  and  business  of  the  sport  (see  pp.  6'io,  665.  780). 
Dblawarb:    31,  177,  2|4,  521,  596,  617,  618,  628,  631,  7<?i.     Map,  352.     My  12  m.  ride 
across  the  Sute,  37»-3-     A  fine  route  of  about  68  m.,  from  Wilmington  to  Tolch'ssler,  Md., 
whence  boat  may  be  Uken  to  BiUtmore,  12  m.,  is  reported  {BttlMtM,  Dec.  17,  '%,  p.  595^  by  J, 
E.  Palmsr,  c  c  of  League's  Dal.  Dirision  (org.  Nov.  a|,  '86,  with  C.  W.  Todd  as  sec-treas.). 

MAitYi.AND  :  13,  31,  42,  99,  177,  244.  486.  487,  500,  592,  594,  609,  617,  618,  628.  631,  643, 
781-3.  Map,  353.  My  'Si  rid;  of  26  m.  fmm  Frcdsrick  to  Williamsport  and  12$  m.  on  C.  &  O. 
canal  path.  238-42 ;  tour  of  '83  through  W.,  303,  344;  through  Baltimore  in  '84,  373-4 ;  second 
experience  of  tow-nath  and  Hagentown,  384.  Other  tourists  on  C.  &  O.  path,  244-$,  34S ;  be- 
tween Ball,  and  Washineton,  349,  371.  377,  38^.  486-7,  497.  Enrirons  of  Bait.,  377.  National 
pike  in  old  times,  ats.  The  3rd  ed.  of  League's  guide,  described  above,  contains  a  key-map  of 
reported  roads  in  Md.,  with  12  pp.  of  tabulated  ro*ites  and  an  index  to  112  towns  named  upon 
them ;  also  a  detailed  account  of  the  Bait,  riding  district  and  a  sketch  of  tlie  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., 
the  largest  cycling  store  in  Md.  (the  largest  in  the  U.  S.,  indeed,  s.  of  Phila.)  is  carried  c 
S.  T.  Clark,  one  of  the  founders  of  the  League  and  its  recording  secretary  during  the  \ 
year.     He  was  for  a  long  time  Pres.  of  the  Md.  B.  C,  whose  elegant  club-house,  costing  $11,000^ 
was  specially  built,  of  brick,  is  3  stories  high,  24  by  80  ft.  in  size,  and  contains  a  gymnasium. 

District  of  Columbia  :  31,  497,  503,  508,  511,  594,  610,  617,  618,  628,  631,  783.  Map, 
352.  My  rides  in  Washington,  241, 371,  374.  Suburban  routes,  376.  BuUetm  (Sept.  3,  *86,  p. 
232)  gave  an  account  of  the  District  and  its  environs,  by  N.  L.  Collamer.  On  Dec  4,  *86,  tfae 
Capital  B.  C.  dedicated  a  $2o,dbo  club-house  on  15th  st;  and  its  front  was  pictured  in  Cych. 

Virginia:  31,  4a,  46,  169,  173,  176,  177,  204,  aoS,  242,  296,  303,  487,  508,  593.  5^4, 
610,  617,  618,  628,  631,  782.  Maps  and  guide-books,  245,  346,  352,  382.  My  '83  tour  np  tlK 
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.  Ca^t^l 
B.  C.  tour,  Harper's  Ferry  to  Natural  Bridge  and  back,  348-9,  382.  W.  B.  Fage*s  rides  in  the 
Shenandoah  and  elsewhere,  495-98,  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  Martinsburg  and  Staunton,  offers  a  course  for  a  longer  and  more  interesting  road-noe 
than  has  yet  been  wheeled  in  America ;  and,  if  the  proper  conditions  could  be  ensured  to  ae, 
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  vdl 
adapted  for  the  use  of  the  bicycle  as  an  economical  vehicle  for  every-day  business)  shookl  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  tfae 
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,  618,  628,  631,  78}. 
Chap.  XVII.  is  given  to  my  8  days'  tour  of  340  m.  (224-34),  and  to  reports  of  roads  in  9  *-**™*^— 
by  J.  M.  VeriioefF  (235-7),  who  has  sent  other  routes  which  I  cannot  here  make  room  for.  /. 
D.  Macauley's  report,  587.  In  Bulletin  (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  LomisviBe. 
"  Although  some  fine  roads  are  found  in  the  s.  part  of  the  State,"  says  a  writer  in  the  ifAtti 
(Jan.  23,  *8s),  "  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  Catlettsbuiig,  5  m.  Skipping 
then  to  Owensboro,  perhaps  70  m.  s.  w.  of  Louisville,  the  *  finest  gravel  pikes '  are  reported, 
Kke  that  to  Gelvington,  12  m.  n.  e.  Henderson  and  Paducah,  river  towns  beyond,  have  a  goodly 
showing  of  cyclers.  Augusta  to  Milford,  22  m.  s. ;  Augusta  to  Germantown,  12  m.  e. ;  Mays- 
ville  to  Germantown,  is  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).  Coltoo*s  noap  of 
Kentucky,  25  by  14  in.,  sells  for  50  c. ;  Kentucky  and  Tennessee  combined,  27  by  17  is.,  75  c 


Though  I  began  this  chapter  on  Nov.  2a,  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  alresidy  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. 
1  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  *  s  X.  M.M    Stop ! "    Thus,  after  all,  I  leare  my  task  nnfiniahed. 


XXXIV. 

THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX. 

*^  In  the  case  of  the  railroads,  it  seems  right  that  some  payment  should 
be  made  where  trouble  is  actually  caused ;  but  I  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  words  of  a  foar-columQ  article  {Bi.  IVarid,  May  6,  '8i,  p.  416)  in  which 
I  detailed  my  two  years'  experiences  among  the  baggage-smashers,  in  the  days  before  the  League 
made  any  attempt  to  reform  the  chaotic  conditions  nnder  which  public  carriage  was  granted  to 
tooriats'  bicycles ;  and  such  are  the  ideas  whose  truth  I  still  strongly  insist  upon.  This  distinc- 
tion between  boat  and  train  cannot  be  drawn  too  sharply,  but  it  has  been  generally  ignored  in  all 
printed  reports  and  discussions  about  the  matter.  The  remarkable  success  achieved  by  the 
Transportation  Committee  of  the  League  (as  noted  on  p.  518,  where  a  sketch  is  given  of  its 
energetic  chairman,  B.  B.  Ayers),  in  persuading  so  many  of  the  railroads  to  carry  passengers' 
bicydes  free,  the  same  as  any  other  personal  baggage,  has  had  the  effect  of  turning  attention 
away  from  the  important  truth  that  the  lesser  matter  of  water-tfansportation  remains  almost  un- 
touched. The  circumstances  which  characterize  this,  however,  render  possible  the  accomplish- 
ment of  much  from  mere  individual  effort ;  and  it  was  a  part  of  the  original  plan  o£  my  book 
that  I  would  make  the  preparation  of  the  present  chapter  a  pretext  for  personally  pledging  to 
the  free-list  a  majority  of  the  chief  American  steamship  lines  (river,  lake,  coast  and  ocean),  by 
offering  them  the  free  advertisement  of  a  mention  here  as  being  thus  pledged.  Lack  of  time 
has  forced  me  to  regretfully  abandon  this  scheme,  as  too  burdensome  an  addition  to  my  pro- 
tracted labors  as  a  publisher ;  but  such  steamship  managers  as  I  have  had  occasion  to  state  the 
case  to,  incidentaliy,  were  all  so  quick  to  see  the  merits  of  it,  and  give  their  consent,  that  I  am 
sore  any  extended  canvass  would  have  shown  a  notably  good  result.  Since  a  bicycle,  even 
when  crated  or  boxed  for  a  long  voyage,  comes  well  within  the  limits  of  space  and  weight 
allowed  a  passenger's  bs^gage,  and  since,  on  a  short  voyage,  it  does  not  require  any  handling  or 
attention  whatever  (as  the  owner  trundles  it  on  and  off  the  boat,  and  stows  it  in  some  convenient 
comer),  there  is  a  plain  mjustioe  in  discriminating  against  it  In  a  crowded  baggage-car,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  bicycle  may  sometimes  cause  more  inconvenience  than  a  trunk.  Hence,  whenever 
a  ra^way  company  agrees  to  take  it  as  a  trunk,  the  act  should  be  recognized  as  a  genuine  concee* 
sion, — as  a  definite  premium  for  attracting  the  patronage  of  wheelmen. 

The  reported  experiences  of  others,  added  to  my  own,  encourage  the  belief,  that  on  very 
many,  if  not  on  most,  of  the  boats  which  ply  along  our  rivers,  lakes  and  coasts,  no  attempt  will 
be  made  to  levy  an  extra  tax  against  a  tourist  yrho  is  accompanied  by  a  bicycle.  There  are  very 
few  Hnes,  I  am  sure,  which  will  refuse  to  give  a  written  ple4ge  to  abstain  from  any  such  attempt, 
if  the  tourist  seasonably  insists  upon  that  pledge  as  a  con<Ution  of  buying  his  ticket.  By  "  season- 
ably "  I  mean  several  days  in  advance  ef  the  time  when  he  proposes  to  embark, — for  he  will 
thna  be  able  to  use,  as  an  aigumentative  club,  his  determination  to  go  to  the  same  place  by  some 
ether  line,  or  to  take  a  tour  in  some  other  direction,  in  case  any  hesitation  is  shown  in  granting 
the  desired  plei^.  The  ease  of  procuring  these  individual  permits  shows  that  not  much  extra 
effort  and  explanatory  argument  woukl  be  needed  to  convince  the  steamboat  people  of  the  profit- 
ableness of  proclaiming  free  carriage  as  a  general  policy.  I  therefore  urge  each  tourist  by  boat 
aat  to  rest  satisfied  with  simply  securing  lor  himself  immunity  from  imposition,  but  to  endeavor 


592  TE.^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

to  secure  from  the  managers  of  the  line  a  formal  letter,  authorizing  the  Transportation  ( 
tee  of  ih  J  League  to  announce  that  the  line  will  regular.y  class  bicycles  as  passen|;eis'  beioace. 
S^stting  aside  the  abstract  justice  of  the  case  entirely,  the  practical  point  to  be  insisted  upon  ■ 
this :  that  bicyclers,  in  deciding  about  where  to  go  on  a  vacaiion-tour,  art  not  restricUd  t»  ma^ 
sing^it  locality.  "  The  whole  boundless  continent  is  theirs ;  "  and,  as  the  attractive  louriog-ptooes 
are  inexhaustible,  they  are  under  no  possible  compulsion  to  choose  one  whidi  implies  paying 
incidental  tribute  to  an  unreasonable  steambfiat  corporation.  They  may  occasionally  be  forced  is 
patronize  railroads  whose  regulations  are  unfair, — but  water-routes  can  almost  always  be  avoided 
without  any  great  inconvenience  or  loss  of  tim^.  Hencj,  the  correct  caper  for  the  sieanrintf 
owners  evidently  is  to  outbid  tKe  railroads,  by  offering  as  attractive  a  bait  as  poa»ble  for  the 
capture  of  this  special  sort  of  excursion  traffic.  Th.:  problem  for  wheelmen  simp!y  is  toconvioGe 
th.^m  that  such  traffic  is  worth  the  captur;:, — that  bicyde  touring  is  a  substantial  fact  (tncesoia* 
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  off  .'ring  ch^p  and  comfortable  passage  to  a  good  tonriaie 
ground  helps  to  ensure  it  substantial  patronage.  They  shou!d  be  made  plainly  to  understaad, 
furthermore,  that,  if  they  insist  on  being  blind  to  their  own  interests,  their  infliction  of  an  ss- 
just  transportation  tax  upon  an  individual  bicycler  will  be  resented  by  the  whole  Iraiemity. 
The  first  duty  of  every  tourist  who  is  thus  discriminated  against  on  any  water-route  io  this  oo«bi- 
try  is  to  proclaim  his  misfortune  as  widely  as  possible,  in  th:  cycling  press,  in  order  that  others 
may  avoid  being  similarly  swindled  there.  Let  such  lines  of  boats  as  may  presume  to  infri^c 
on  a  passenger's  ordinary  right  of  carrying  a*ong  his  necessary  personal  outfit,  be  put  imdertfae 
ban,  so  far  as  the  just  hostiity  of  cyclers  and  their  friends  may  be  ab!e  to  accomplish  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  contrast  to  this  dutiful  utterano:  of  warning,  there  cadsts  die  mm 
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  g!ad  to  give  prominence  to  th*  res«dt  of  sadk 
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,^: 
**  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 ;  bni  this 
b  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,  "^s) :  "  Bkydes, 
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.  aoOcaving  Montreal  and  Pictou,  N.  S.,  every  allob 
nate  Monday,  and  touching  at  Quebec  and  Charlottetown,  P.  E.  L) ;  also  all  the  year  be- 
tween New  York  and  Bermuda,  and  bMween  New  York  and  St.  Kilts,  Antigroa,  Dorainica, 
Martinique,  St.  Lucia,  Barbados  and  Trinidad, — (he  sailings  being  at  intervals  of  7.  to,  14  and 
17  days.  S.  Cunard  &  Co.  write  from  Halifax  (Feb.  13,  '85)  :  "  We  shall  be  glad  to  treat  as 
baggage  the  bicycle  of  any  passenger  by  steimir  from  here  to  Bermuda/'--the  sailings  bcfi^ 
monthly.  "  We  do  not  charge  freight  for  the  bicycle  owned  by  the  p^Menger  ou  our  North 
German  Lloyd  steamers,  from  Baltimore  to  Bremen ;  neither  on  our  Allan  Line  steamers,  frris 
Baltimore  to  Halifax ;  "  such  are  the  words  of  the  American  agents,  A.  Schumacher  &  C& 
(Aug.  15.  '84);  and  the  rule  would  presumably  hold  (rood  of  the  Allan  steamers  from  H.  to 
Liverpool.  Mention  was  made  on  p.  292  of  the  authority  given  me  (Aug.,  *83)to  anoonoce 
that  the  Boston,  Halifax,  and  Prince  Edward  1s!aiid  line  will  carry  passengers'  wheeb  free  bs^ 
tween  those  points  (also  between  Boston  and  Savannah,  in  the  winter),  though  formeriy  char^* 
ing  S  c.  per  cubic  ft.  of  spacs  occupied ;  and  that  the  same  nile  is  nbaerved  by  the  other  Nota 
Scotia  line,  connecting  Boston  with  Yarmouth  and  Digby.  The  Internationa]  line,  betwccs 
Boston,  Portland,  Eastport  and  St.  John  (p.  259),  and  the  Portland.  Banf^or  and  Mathias  fine, 
whose  boats  also  run  to  Boston  (p.  279^,  were  on  the  free>Hst  in  '83,  and  doohtless  so  < 
A  note  to  me  from  C.  D.  Whitcomb,  passenger  ajrent,  says  (Feb.  27,  •«$) :  "  Von  may  a 
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  4a  i 


THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX. 


593 


m  the  trant-Atlantk,  Peninsula,  Mediterranean  and  Oriental  service,  and  which  sends  boats 
famn  Boston  as  we!)  as  New  York ;  and  I  presume  that  the  other  ocean  lines  which  start  from 
those  cities  grant  free  carriage  whenever  the  passenger  insists  upon  it  in  advance.  Probably. 
all  of  them  could  be  easily  won  for  the  general  free-list,  if  the  ^ort  were  made,  by  exhibiting 
to  their  agents  the  examples  of  the  Anchor  and  White  Star  lines.  Two  short  water-routes  are 
advertised  by  the  League  committee  as  exacting  a  tax  against  bicycles,  as  follows  :  the  boats  be- 
tween New  York  and  Fall  River  (170  m.)  charge  %\  ;  and  the  People's  Line  (night  boats)  be- 
tween New  York  and  Albany  (14s  m.)  charge  40  c  for  the  bicycle  of  a  solitary  passenger,  and 
as  c.  each  for  those  of  a  party  of  two,  three  or  four ;  while,  for  parties  of  five  or  more,  no  charge 
whateirer  is  made !  Adherence  to  any  such  queer  rule  seems  all  the  more  singular  because  the 
sane  Lea^e  list  also  advertises  that  the  day  line  of  boats  between  those  two  cities  carries  bicy. 
dea  free.  As  to  the  Fall  River  Line,  it  should  be  added  that  the  %\  tax  pays  for  passage 
throttgh  to  Boston  on  50  m.  of  the  Old  Colony  r.  r.  (whose  separate  charge  is  50  c.  for  that  or 
any  less  distance,  and  i  c  a  mile  for  greater  distances),  and  that  a  similar  rule  is  maintained  by 
the  '*  pooling  system  "  of  three  competing  lines  which  run  steamers  from  New  York,  respectively, 
to  Stonington  (120  m.),  Norwich  (133  m.)  and  Providence  (180  m.),  and  trains  thence  to  Boston. 
The  chaiige  for  bicycle  between  N.  Y.  and  B.,  by  either  of  these  four  routes  is  |i ;  though  the 
League  has  relations  only  with  the  first  named.  When  the  passenger's  ticket  relates  simply  to 
the  boat,  and  implies  no  r.  r.  ride  between  its  terminus  and  Boston,  he  is  forced  to  pay  no  more 
than  50  c  for  his  wheel.  The  cost  of  taking  it  through  by  train,  between  N.  Y.  &  B.  on  either 
the  Springfield  or  the  Providence  route,  is  $1.25;  and  the  r.  r.  from  P.  to  Boston  (44  m.)  charges 
50  c.,  without  regard  to  distance.  I  believe  the  three  lines  of  boats  from  New  York  to  New 
Haven,  New  London  and  Hartford,  which  gave  free  carriage  to  my  wheel  in  '8o-'3i,  have 
more  recently  enforced  a  50  c.  rate, — perhaps  under  the  influence  of  the  "  pool "  just  mentioned. 
Exactions  against  bicyclers  on  other  short  water-routes  leading  from  New  York  have  been  re- 
ported to  me,  but  I  will  not  make  them  matters  of  record  here,  because  I  hope  that  the  mana- 
gers of  them  all  may  soon  be  induced  to  terminate  such  suicidal  policy,  and  adopt  the 
opposite  plan  of  encouraging,  and  baiting  away  from  the  railroads,  a  profitable  sort  of  pleasure 
traflic.  The  League's  '*  Road  Book  of  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey  and  Maryland  "  (May,  '86, 
H.  S.  Wood)  gives  the  following  facts  about  steamers  from  Baltimore,  none  of  which  have  ever 
charged  for  bicycles:  "The  Ericsson  Line  leaves  for  Phila.,  except  Sunday,  at  3  p.  m.  The 
Maryland  Steamboat  Co.,  for  Easton,  and  Oxford,  Tuesday,  Thursday  and  Saturday,  9  p.  m. 
The  Bay  Line  to  Norfolk,  8.30  p.  m.  daily,  except  Sunday ;  fare,  $3.00.  The  Richmond  and 
York  River  Line,  for  Richmond,  Monday,  Wednesday,  Thursday  and  Saturday,  5  p.  m.  ;  fare, 
I1.50.  The  Eastern  Shore  S.  B.  Co.,  for  Clearfield,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Friday,  Sunday, 
5  p.  M.  Excursion  Steamers  daily,  in  summer,  to  all  points  on  the  Chesapeake  and  tributaries; 
fare,  50  cents.  From  Philadelphia  the  Ericsson  Line  propeller  leaves  for  Bahimore  vm:  Canal, 
every  afternoon,  except  Sunday,  at  3  o'clock.  The  steamer  Republic  starts  at  7  a.  m.  daily, 
from  the  Arch  st.  wharf,  for  Cape  May  and  its  hard  beaches ;  but  this  boat  charges  a  transpor- 
tation fee."  A  recent  tourist  on  Lake  Ontario  reports  a  free  steamer  from  Niagara  to  Toronto, 
though  the  boat  from  Toronto  to  Hamilton  levied  a  tax  against  his  bicycle. 

It  is  no  reproach  to  the  Transportation  Committee  of  the  League  that  they  have  thus  far  en- 
tirely neglected  the  water-routes;  for,  in  grappling  with  the  railroad  problem,  they  have  ex- 
pended all  the  time  and  enenry  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- 
markable, and  offer  the  most  notable  example  yet  given  of  the  power  inherent  in  the  League. 
As  representatives  of  an  organization  with  a  membership  of  several  thousands,  whose  patronage 
is  in  their  control,  the  Committee  have  seemed  to  the  railroad  men  well  worthy  of  respect,  and 
have  been  able,  by  appealing  to  the  fierce  competition  between  rival  trunk  lines,  to  make  satisfac- 
tory treaties  with  them  in  regard  to  that  patronage.  It  should  never  be  foigotten  that  a  rail- 
rood's  consent  to  class  bicycles  as  baggage  is  a  definite  surrender  of  its  own  undoubted  right  in 
the  case,  and  is  made  with  the  idea  that  profit  will  ultimately  accrue  from  the  offer  of  such  a 
premium  for  placating  the  good-will  of  wheelmen.  Individuals  would  be  powerless  thus  to  treat 
38 


594         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

vith  the  companies  on  a  laijpe  scale,  because  they  could  noC  pretend  to  offer  an  equivalcDi  ai 
patronage  for  the  concession  granted ;  but  the  League  can  make  bargains  with  the  rends  as  vcB 
as  any  other  one  of  their  customers,  and  each  member  of  it  should  feel  in  duty  bound  to  see  thai 
his  personal  share  in  these  bargains  is  honestly  carried  out.  I  mean  that  he  should  not  oolf 
travel  on  the  "  League  railroads/'  in  preference  to  rival  lines,  where  a  choice  isoffiered,  bat 
should  influence  hb  friends  to  do  the  same. 

In  anticipation  of  the  annual  meet  at  Boston  a  "  map  of  the  L.  A.  W.  trunk  lines  "  (as  fm 
a.  and  w.  from  that  city  as  Washington,  St.  Louis  and  Chicago)  was  published  in  the  BaUietim  ol 
May  7,  '86,  and  in  three  other  cycling  weeklies  of  the  same  date,  acx»mpanied  by  the  ioHUpne^ 
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  aaft  is 
the  United  States.  The  main  n.  trunk  line  is  the  Michigan  Central  r.  r.,  whose  through  1 
run  from  Chicago  to  Boston,  with  connections  in  Michigan,  Canada  and  Ohio.  From  Su  ] 
its  through  sleepers  run  over  the  Wabash,  connecting  with  the  Michigan  Central  at  DctzwL 
Its  connection  from  Cinciniuiti  and  Ohio  points  is  the  Cin.,  Hamilton  and  Daytoo  r.  r.,  also  at 
Detroit.  From  Cleveland  and  Eastern  Ohio  points  the  Lake  Shore  r.  r.  runs  through  cats  cen- 
necting  with  the  New  York  Central  at  Buffalo.  The  Baltimore  &  Ohio,  old  and  suuoch  Leaoe 
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.  WheeUneu  bowid  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  Yosk 
Central  from  Albany  east,  is  a  road  that  practically  prohibits  wheel  travel  over  its  line  daring 
the  year,  but  makes  concessions  to  our  parties  when  traveling  in  numbers.  The  Filchboxg  is 
its  competitor  and  accommodates  wheelmen  all  the  year  round,  when  traveling  alone  as  well  as 
in  parties.  From  Eastern  Pennsylvania  and  Southern  New  York,  the  Erie  and  the  Lcfa^ 
Valley  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  lises 
and  the  regular  printed  list  will  show  all  others.  Arrangements  for  transportation  can  be  nade 
very  conveniently  by  G.  R.  Bidwell,  New  York,  he  being  in  correspondence  with  all  lines  m* 
ningfrora  N.  Y.  and  Phila.  to  the  East;  W.  S.  Bull,  Buffalo,  can  arrange  matters  with  laies 
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  aenrices  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  syaten* 
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  gnvitation  "  for  focc- 
ing  the  local  roads  affiliated  with  them  to  adopt  the  same  liberal  practices.  The  names  of  the 
railroads  which  have  agreed  with  the  L.eague  to  carry  passengers*  bicycles  free  ai«  advertised 
by  the  BulUtin  in  two  geographical  groups,  the  first  comprising  those  "  east  of  Buffalo  aad 
Pittsburg,'*  as  follows:  Alleghany  Valley;  Atlanta  &  West  Point;  Baltimore  &  Ohio ;  Ben- 
nington &  Rutland;  Boston,  Hoosac  Tunnel  &  Western;  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  &  Phxla.;  Cana> 
dian  Pacific;  Chesapeake  &  Ohio ;  Credit  Valley ;  Delaware,  Lackawanna  &  Western;  Elnnra, 
Cortland  &  Northern;  Erie  (N.  Y.,  L.  E.  &  W.);  FaU  Brook;  Fitchburg;  Grand  Trunk; 
Lehigh  Valley ;  Montrose ;  New  London  Northern ;  N.  Y.,  Buffalo  &  Pittsbuig ;  N.  Y.,  Lake 
Erie  &  Western;  N.  Y.^West  Shore  &  Buffalo;  Portland  &  Ogdensburg;  Portland  &  Wor^ 
cesler ;  Rochester  &  Pittsburg ;  Rome,  Watertown  &  Ogdensburg ;  Southern  Central  of  N.  Y.; 
Syracuse,  Ontario  &  N.  Y. ;  Tioga;  Troy  &  Boston ;  Utica  &  Blade  River;  Wallkill  Valky; 
West  Shore  (N.  Y.,  W.  S.  &  B.);  Western  Alabama;  Western  Maryland. 

The  much  larger  group  "west  of  Buffalo  and  Piltsbuiig  *'  is  alphabetised  thus  :  Alliaace, 
Niles  &  Ashtabula ;  Ashtabula  &  Pittsburg ;  Atchison,  Topeka  &  SanU  F^ ;  Atlantic  &  Padfic; 
Baltimore  &  Ohio;  Burlington,  Cedar  Rapids  &  Northern;  Canada  Southern;  Canadiaa 
Pacific;  Central  Pacific;  Central  Iowa;  Chartiers;  Chicago  &  Atlantic;  Ch.  &  Eastern  IIB- 
nois;  Ch.  &  Grand  Trunk ;  Ch.  &  Iowa  ;  Ch.  &  Western  Michigan ;  Cb.,  AUoo  &  St.  Louis; 


THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX.  595 

Ch.,  Burliogton  &  Qnlncy ;  Ch.,  Iowa  &  DakoU ;  Ch.,  Milwaukee  &  St.  Paul ;  Ch.,  St.  Louis 
&  Piitsbuig;  Chesapeake  &  Ohio;  Cincinnati  &  Muskiogum  Valley;  Cin.,  Hamilton  &  Day- 
toti  ;  Gin.,  Indianapolis,  St.  Louis  &  Chicago;  Cin.,  New  Orleans  &  Texas;  Cleveland  & 
Canton;  CI.  &  Marietta;  CI.  ft  Pittsburg;  CI,  Akron  &  Canton;  CI.,  Columbus,  Cincinnati 
&  IndJanapolis;  Q.,  Lorain  &  Wheeling;  Q.,  Tuscarawas  Valley  &  Wheeling;  Columbus, 
Hocking  Valley  ft  Toledo ;  Des  Moines  ft  Ft.  Dodge ;  Detroit,  Lansing  ft  Northern  ;  Erie  & 
Phtsbiug;  Evansville  ft  Terre  Haute;  Flint  ft  Pire  Marquette;  Ft.  Wayne,  Cincinnati  ft 
Loaisville;  Grand  Rapids  ft  Indiana;  Grand  Trunk;  lUmois  Central;  Indianapolis  ft  St. 
Lonis  ;  Ind.  ft  Viaoennes;  Ind.,  Bloomington  &  Western ;  International  ft  Great  Northern ; 
Jefferson ville,  Madison  ft  Indianapolis;  Kansas  City,  Sl  Joseph  ft  Council  Bluffs;  Kentucky 
Central ;  Lake  Shore  ft  Michigan  Southern  ;  Little  Miami ;  Louisville  ft  Nashville ;  Louisville, 
New  Albany  ft  Chicago;  Michigan  ft  Ohio;  Michigan  Central;  Milwaukee  &  Northern; 
Minneapolis  ft  St.  Louis;  Missouri,  Kansas  ft  Texas;  Missouri  Pacific ;«N.  Y.,  Penn.  ft  O. ; 
Newport  News  ft  Mississippa  Valley;  Nickel  Plate  (N.  Y.,  Chicago  ft  St.  L.);  Northwestern 
Ohio ;  Northern  ft  Northwestern  of  Canada ;  Ohio  ft  Mississippi ;  Ohio  Central ;  Pennsyl- 
vania; Pittsburg  ft  Lake  Erie;  Pitts.,  Cincinnati  &  St.  Louis;  PitU.,  Ft.  Wayne  ft  Chicago; 
Poft  Huron  ft  Northwestern ;  St.  Louis  ft  Cairo  (St  L.,  A.  ft  T.  H.) ;  St.  L.  ft  San  Francisco ; 
St.  L.,  Des  Moines  ft  Northern ;  Southern  Pacific ;  Texas  Pacific ;  Toledo,  Ann  Arbor  &  Grand 
Trunk;  Vandalia;  VaUey  (O.);  Wabash,  St.  Louis  ft  Pacific;  Wheeling  ft  Lake  Erie;  Wis- 
consin Central ;  Wisconsin,  Iowa  ft  Nebraska.    (As  corrected  by  the  committee  June  lo,  '86.) 

"The  agreement  is  that  the  bicycle  goes  at  owner's  risk  £or  loss  or  damage.  Some  roads 
require  it  to  be  chedced,  like  baggage.  In  every  case  the  owner  should  apply  to  the  depot  bag- 
gage-master, before  getting  on  cars,  and  have  him  mark  the  bicycle  to  destination.  Dealings 
should  be  with  him  as  much  as  possible  and  not  with  the  train  baggageman.  In  case  charges 
should  be  exacted  by  baggagemen,  receipts  should  be  taken  and  forwarded  to  the  chairman  of 
the  League's  Transportation  Committee."  The  ultimate  result  of  the  latter  process  has  always 
been  the  refunding  of  the  money  by  the  company,  with  an  apology,  accompanied  by  a  reprimand 
of  the  offending  baggageman,  Qr,  in  some  cases,  his  dismissal  from  the  service.  Private  at- 
tempts of  this  sort  to  disregard  the  rules  would  be  still  further  discouraged,  I  think,  by  printing 
with  the  name  of  each  road  on  the  League's  official  list  the  exaa  date  of  its  circular  ordering 
that  bicycles  be  carried  as  baggage,  and  perhaps  also  the  name  of  the  officer  issuing  the  circular. 
A  passenger's  ability  to  point  to  aach  exact  evidence  would  probably  convert  even  the  most  igno- 
rant or  obstinate  of  baggagemen ;  for  it  would  seem  only  second  in  authority  to  the  official  circu- 
lar itself.  If  I  meet  such  a  man  on  the  Erie,  for  instance,  and  am  able  to  say  to  him  :  "  See 
here  !  Your  general  passenger  agent,  J.  N.  Abbott,  gave  orders,  Nov.  i8,  '84,  that  this  bicycle 
should  be  carried  in  your  car,  free  of  charge,  and  should  be  handled  carefully,"  the  man  will  get 
a  pretty  clear  idea  that  I  know  what  I  am  talking  about,  and  know  how  to  have  him  punished  if 
he  insists  on  swindling  me.  My  mere  showing  of  the  name  "  Erie,"  in  the  League's  printed 
list  of  free  roads,  might  not  have  so  powerful  an  effect  upon  him.  The  Erie  regiilations  say  : 
"  The  owner  of  bicycle  to  be  transported  should  be  required  to  deliver  it  at  the  baggage-car  of 
the  train,  and  notified  to  be  on  hand  there  promptly  upon  arrival  at  destination  to  receive  his 
property.  If  he  desires  to  have  it  taken  beyond  our  line,  or  beyond  the  run  of  the  baggage- 
master  or  car,  he  should  be  distinctly  informed  at  what  point  to  claim  and  receive  it,  and  ar- 
range for  its  further  care  and  transportation." 

Such  conduct  on  the  wheelman's  part  is  always  wise,  even  in  the  oase  of  roads  which  do  not 
formally  demand  it.  While  firmly  insisting  on  his  right  to  enjoy  the  privilege  which  the  company 
has  conceded  to  him,  he  should  endeavor  to  give  the  baggage-smashers  as  little  trouble  as  pos- 
sible, — to  conciliate  rather  than  exasperate  them.  Working  as  they  do  under  great  strain  and 
pressure,  it  is  only  natural  that  Ihey  should  occasionally  relieve  their  souls  by  the  utterance  of  vio- 
lent language ;  but  the  bicyde<owner  should  iK>t  take  this  seriously  or  resent  it.  I  have  generally 
found  them  to  be  at  heart  a  good-natured  set  of  men,  whose  conduct  quickly  illustrates  the 
truth  of  the  proverb  that  "a  soft  answer  tumeth  away  wrath."  Let  the  bicycle  be  held  pa- 
tiently on  the  platform  until  all  the  heavy  baggage  has  been  thrown  in,  and  the  commander  of 


596  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  car  gives  the  signal  that  he  is  ready  to  take  this  also.  Perhaps  he  niajr  then  imrite  theo 
inside  to  attend  to  the  machine  until  the  big  trunks  have  been  packed,  and  a  place  made  i 
it  may  be  stowed  securely.  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  tooriat  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  ieyes  of  the  railroad  managers  by  "  making  a  row  about  it."  The  League  cooU 
afford  to  say  to  every  tuch  unfortunate  one  who  feels  unable  to  podcet  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  recognised  as 
supreme,  in  regard  to  all  details  of  handling  and  packing;  and  di£Ferences  of  opinioo  ahonld  be 
arranged  by  the  adoption  of  a  fwrsuasive  and  deferential  air,  rather  than  by  a  show  of  imperions- 
ness  and  truculence.  Whoever  thus  affronts  the  proper  pride  of  these  men,  by  any  soch  wantoa 
display  of  hostility,  or  is  tempted  by  arrogance  or  bad  language  on  their  part  into  making  an  as- 
dignified  retort,  not  only  lowers  his  own  self-respect,  and  lessens  his  influence  with  them,  bat 
he  Inflicts  a  definite  injury  upon  all  well-mannered  cydere  who  may  chance  to  fdlcvw  in  lus  foot- 
steps. In  the  baggage-car,  as  upon  the  highway,  the  wheelman,  while  insisting  upon  hb  icoog- 
nized  rights  with  firmness,  should  also  do  it  with  calmness  and  courtesy, — both  for  his  p»fy^iaj 
profit  and  satisfaction,  and  for  "  the  good  of  the  cause  "  in  general.  Whenever  the  hofse> 
driving  Hog  publicly  froths  at  the  mouth  in  the  presence  of  a  bicyder,  the  latter  can  perfona  no 
better  service  as  an  educator  of  opinion,  than  to  let  him  enjoy  a  monopoly  of  all  the  curmig  and 
vituperation.  Silence  is  the  one  thing  which  surely  convicts  the  Jlog  of  having  encountered  a 
superior  order  of  intellect.  In  his  heart  he  knows  that  all  who  witnessed  his  outbont,  and  its 
inability  to  provoke  a  retort,  are  secretly  laughing  at  him  for  the  discomfiture  which  is  prodnced 
by  this  bitterest  form  of  contempt 

In  addition  to  the  railroads  which  have  issued  general  orders  for  free  carriage,  the  Lcagae 
advertises  two  trunk  lines  ("  Chicago  &  Northwestern  "  and  "  Chicago,  Rock  Island  ft  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  dty.  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.  ft  Hudson  Canal  Co.  ts  reported 
as '  *  pending. "  Three  other  important  lines  advertise  a  tariff  of  \  c.  per  m. ,— except  that  the  min- 
imum charge  is  25  c.  (or  as  much  for  i  m.  as  for  50  m.):  Pennsylvania  (e.  of  Pittsbin^,  Phila.  ft 
Reading,  and  N.  Y.  Central  &  Hudson  River.  I  consider  this  rate  of  4  c  per  m.  a  reasonable 
one,  but  think  that  for  a  distance  of  ro  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  charge  at 
all,  even  while  retaining  their  present  rule  as  to  long  distances.  A  touring  bicyder  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  as  c.  on  his  wheel's  aoooonL 
I  remember  of  acting  thus  several  times  (once  even  after  buying  my  train-tidcet),  and  on  one 
occasion  I  deliberately  tramped  8  m.  through  the  dark,  in  preference  to  letting  a  r.  r.  wrest  90  c 
from  me  for  carrying  my  bicycle  that  distance.  I  believe  the  amount  of  such  possible  fares  fest 
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.'s 
(where  good  and  bad  wheeling  are  both  found)  if  brief  resorts  could  be  freely  had  to  the  trains, 
will  simply  make  thdr  excursions  elsewhere,  in  the  face  of  threatened  exactions.  The  Eastern 
r.  r.  (Boston  to  Portland,  to8  m.),  and  Maine  Central  r.  r.  (Portland  to  Vanoeboio,  350  m.),  with 


THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX.  597 

varioat  branches,  tax  the  bicycle  as  c  for  any  distance  up  to  50  m.,  and  50  c.  for  any  greater 
distance.  The  "  N.  Y.,  N.  H.  &  H."  (New  York  to  Springfield,  136  m.,  and  New  York  to 
New  London,  124  zn.,  with  several  leased  lines)  puts  the  tax  at  50  c.  for  any  distance  up  to 
50  m.,  and  75  c.  for  any  greater  distance ;  while  the  Boston  &  Albany  r.  r.  (aoi  in.)«  starting 
iritb  a  similar  minimum  charge  of  50  c,  outranks  all  others  by  adhering  stiffly  to  the  extreme 
tariff  of  I  c  per  m.,  even  for  a  bicycle  which  is  carried  the  whole  length  of  its  line.  As  the 
highways  ak>ng8ide  this  are  in  many  places  attractive  to  the  tourist  and  in  many  places  unridable, 
the  road  might  make  considerable  money,  on  the  theory  just  now  explained,  by  offering  good 
treatment  to  cyclers.  Instead  of  this,  it  prefers  to  lose  considerable  money  by  driving  them  to 
take  excursions  in  other  regions,  and  by  letting  the  rival  Fitchburg  line  get  hold  of  all  the  through 
traffic  and  "  good-wilL"  The  sight  of  the  Fitchburg  upon  the  League's  free-list  will  doubtless 
soon  lead  other  New  England  roads  to  place  their  names  there.  I  believe  that  most  of 
them  now  levy  a  35  c  tax ;  though  the  Old  Colony  and  Providence  roads  have  already  been 
named  as  levying  50  c.  The  Boston  &  Lowell  (36  m.)and  the  Concord  (141  m.)  combine 
su  one  road  to  offer  a  single  through  rate  of  50  c,  as  an  option  to  paying  \  c.  per  m.  beyond 
50  m.,  or  35  c.  for  less  than  50  m.  on  either  road.  The  Boston  &  Lynn  r.  r.  (9}  m.)  carries 
whcete  free.  No  reasonable  man  who  has  occasion  to  use  a  baggage-car  for  35  m.  or  more  can 
object  to  paying  35  c  for  it ;  but  the  same  charge  for  only  3  or  3  m.  is  vexatious.  My  own 
feeling  is  that  if  the  railroads  could  carry  bicycles  free  for  10  or  15  m.,  charge  10  c.  up  to  35  m., 
then  35  c.  up  to  50  m.  and  beyond  that  50  c.  (or  else  \  c.  per  m.),  they  would  satisfy  every  de- 
mand of  justice.  Whenever  they  offer  free  carri^e  for  long  distances,  the  fact  should  always 
be  recogniied  as  in  the  nature  of  a  reduction  of  rates,  tendered  in  the  hope  of  attracting  spe- 
cial good-will  and  patronage.  On  the  other  hand,  free  carriage  by  steamers,  for  all  distances, 
should  be  demanded  not  as  a  favor  but  as  a  right,  and  a  denial  of  it  should  be  resented  to  the 
utmost.  In  this  matter  individual  effort  may  make  itself  felt ;  and  every  wheelman  who  hap- 
pens to  patronize  a  water-route  not  already  on  the  free-lisi  should  assume  the  duty  of  persuading 
Its  managers  to  formally  request  the  League's  Transportation  Committee  to  place  it  there. 

I  believe  that  in  no  case  has  the  extreme  policy  of  refusing  to  take  a  passenger's  bicycle  in 
the  baggage-car  on  any  terms  (insisting  that  the  express  company  only  could  carry  it)  been  re- 
turned to,  when  once  the  League  had  caused  its  abandonment  It  is  more  likely  that  the  roads 
which  are  now  classed  as  maintaining  a  tariff  will  modify  this  in  favor  of  free  carriage  (for  short 
distances,  or  without  regard  to  distance)  than  that  any  of  the  "  free  roads  "  will  go  back  to  a 
leas  liberal  policy.  An  inspection  of  the  list  shows  that  there  are  now  very  few  important  points 
in  the  West  to  which  a  r.  r.  traveler  may  not  carry  his  bicycle  without  tax ;  but  a  majority  of  the 
local  lines  in  the  East  jret  remain  to  be  won.  Barkman's  road-book  (Apr.,  '86)  says  "The 
Long  Island  r.  r.  charges  from  40  c  to  80  c,  according  to  distance,  for  carrying  a  bicycle  " ; 
though,  a  year  earlier,  announcement  was  made  (TVf^jm/,  Apr.  36.,  '85)  that  "  bicycles  ai«  now 
carried  free  by  the  L.  I.  r.  r.,  when  delivered  to  and  taken  from  the  cars  by  passengers," — ^and 
in  '8o-'8i  I  several  times  resorted  to  that  road  without  any  charge  for  wheel.  In  '84,  W.  C. 
Herring  had  his  bicycle  checked  through  from  N.  Y.  to  Atlanta,  without  charge ;  and  again 
from  Atlanta  to  Augusta ;  and  I  think  the  same  may  be  done  on  the  Shenandoah  Valley  r.  r. 
(340  m.,  seep.  350).  In  May.  '86,  W.  J.  Farrell  brought  his  bicycle  from  Femandina,  Fla., 
to  N.  Y.,  without  any  other  trouble  than  that  implied  in  transferring  it  from  one  baggage-car  to 
another,  at  the  terminal  points  along  the  route ;  and  he  expressed  to  roe  the  opinion  that  all  the 
r.  r.'s  in  the  South  could  be  depended  on  to  grant  this  privilege,  tho^h  they  might  not  think  it 
worth  while  to  make  a  formal  arrangement  with  the  League,  because  of  the  rarity  of  bicycle 
touring  in  that  region.  On  the  other  hand,  complaints  wei«  printed  in  May,  '85,  of  the  baggage- 
men on  the  L.  &  N.  r.  r.,  between  Cincinnati  and  Louisville,  as  "  invariably  refusing  to  take 
wheels  on  their  cars," — though  I  had  no  trouble  about  the  free  carriage  of  mine,  on  the  same 
line,  between  Cave  City  and  Louisville,  in  June,  '83 ;  and  printed  mention  was  made  of  it  in 
Oct.,  '84,  as  regularly  granting  that  privilege  between  Louisville  and  New  Orleans.  The  re- 
cently published  notion  of  an  Indiana  man,  that  free  carriage  on  "  League  roads  "  should  be 
granted  only  to  those  bicycles  whose  owners  can  show  "League  tickets,"  deserves  mention 


S98  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Bimply  that  it  may  be  denounced.  Even  were  it  practicable,  the  dignity  of  the  League  would 
not  permit  a  resort  to  such  a  petty  jMlicy  for  recruiting  its  membership;  and  it  would  be  an  as- 
wise  and  disastrous  confesMon  of  weakness  besides.  The  League's  power  to  treat  with  the  nfl- 
road  people  arises  from  their  belief  that  it  not  only  commands  the  patronage  of  its  8000  membeis, 
but  indirectly  controls  that  of  the  other  wheelmen  (say  40,000)  who  are  not  memberB.  It  is  for 
the  evident  interest  of  the  League  to  strengthen  this  belief,  and  magnify  its  own  abOity  fior 
swinging  in  a  given  direction  the  entire  wheel  interest  of  the  continent.  The  gmter  the  nua- 
ber  of  bicyclers  who  patronize  a  given  "  League  road,"  the  greater  the  respect  whldi  its  managen 
will  have  for  the  League's  apparent  power  to  influence  traffic  A  policy  of  exdusoo  and  self- 
belittlement  would  show  that  the  oi^ganization  had  no  practical  capacity  for  "  businesa." 

"The  G.  W.  A.  Guide  Book"  (Apr.,  '84;  see  p.  330)  devotes  three  pages  to  printing  m 
full  the  replies  received  to  the  circular  letter  of  Feb.  21,  '84,  addressed  by  the  secretaiy  of  the 
Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association  to  the  general  managers  of  all  the  r.  r.  lines  in  the  Dominioii, 
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,  Qxicago, 
Feb.  a6);  Grand  Trunk  (J.  Stevenson,  Montreal,  Feb.  27);  Ontario  &  Quebec  (D.  McNicoli, 
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  &  Nordtwcst- 
em  (R.  Kerr,  Toronto,  Mar.  8).  These  seven  are  said  to  "  include  nearly  all  the  railroads  of 
Canada  " ;  and  any  wheelman  agaii^st  whom  exactions  are  attempted  by  baggagemen  shodd 
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  bicyde, — though,  in  the  case 
of  one  rather  crowded  baggage-car,  I  was  told  that  I  "  nmst  get  in  and  attend  to  it  m^wH." 

In  England  (where  liberal  ideas  of  traffic  management,  such  as  prevail  in  this  free  coontrr, 
are  seldom  put  in  practice),  the  r.  r.  cf\arge  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  ioool, 
62  c.  to  150  m.,  and  so  on,  increasing  12  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  throogfa  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Council  of  the  B.  T.  C.  They  are  in  force  on  every  line  in  the  kingdom,  with  die 
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  obdnratt 
resistance  to  what  we  hoped  was  a  universal  concession."  During  the  four  years  which  haie 
elapsed  since  those  words  were  written,  tricycling  has  come  into  general  vogue,  and  the  hteit 
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,  Sax- 
land  and  Ireland  for  distances  of  12,  25,  50,  75,  zoo,  150,  200  and  250  m., — the  rate  for  a  tricyde 
being  usually  double  that  for  a  bicycle.  The  lowest  for  the  latter  is  25c.,  which  is  not  inoeased 
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  "  (£  r ,  as  we  Americans  say,  "  sent  by  express  ")  the  rates  aie 
increased  about  25  per  cent,  for  bicycles  and  50  per  cent,  for  tricydes;  and  still  another  25(7 
50  per  cent,  is  added  in  case  of  classification  as  "  parcete  at  the  company's  risk."  The  three 
roads  named  as  "  obdurate  "  in  '82  still  retain  their  bad  eminence, — (heir  diai^ge  for  cairyiiv 
a  tri.  200  m.  being  $3,  and  $1.50  for  a  bi. ;  and  these  rates  are  doubled  for  "paroeb  tt 
owner's  risk,"  and  all  machines  so  sent  must  be  packed,  and  no  admittance  to  the  doak- 
rooms  is  granted  them  at  any  price.  The  charge  of  the  other  roads  is  only  half  as  great,  ra  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  rxrwdtng 
three  days,  and  from  2  c.  to  4  c.  for  each  day  after  that.  A  list  is  also  printed  of  five  places  m 
London  where  they  may  be  stored  at  rates  varying  from  4  c  to  12  c.  a  day,  and  from  la  c  10 
37  c.  a  month.    "  Cycles  go  free,  when  accompanied  by  owner,  on  Belgian  mafl  stcamexs  fawn 


THE  TRANSPORTATION  TAX,  599 

r>ov«r  to  Ostend  ;  on  Danish  steamers  from  Newcastle  and  Hull  to  Bei|^n,  and  from  Harwich 
to  Esbjei<g;  on  the  United  line  from  Newcastle  to  Copenhagen  ;  and  on  the  river  boats  (ran 
only  in  summer)  from  London  to  Mai^gate,  Ramsgate  and  Yarmoath." 

The  General  S.  N.  Co.  charges  for  a  London  passenger's  bicycle  to  Hull,  Havre,  Boulogne, 
Ostend,  or  Antwerp,  63  c.;  to  Edinburgh,  ^1.25;  to  Bordeetix  or  Hamburg,  $1.87,  and  to 
Oporto,  $3,  with  advanced  rates  for  tricycles,  according  to  size.  The  London  &  Edinburgh  S.  N. 
Co.  charges  $3.25  for  bicycle;  and  the  London  &  Aberdeen  S.  N.  Co.  $1.25  for  bi.  and  $1.87 
for  tri., — whether  packed  and  despatched  as  parcels  or  taken  along  as  luggage.  The  London 
axid  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 
charge  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 
aea-ooast  towns  to  various  ports  in  France,  the  "  Handbook  "  says  :  "As  the  charges  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  I5  for  bi.  and  ^10 
for  tri.  Dieppe  and  Cherboui|;  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  Met*  to  Verdun  ;  but  riders  have  entered  by  road  from  Bile  to  Belfort, 
at»d  also  at  Delle,  without  being  mulct  in  any  charge.  The  French  railroads  usually  carry  pas- 
sengers' cycles  as  luggage,  for  a  very  small  charge.  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  i  is  lbs.) 
may  be  sent  by  *  petite  vitesse  '  from  London  to  Bftle  (10  days  on  the  road),  for  $2.37,  on  appli- 
cation to  Wheatley  &  Co.,  23  Regent  St.,  whose  agent  at  B.  (where  local  charges  of  62  c.  must  be 
added)  win  store  cycles  for  10  c.  a  month.  Tourists  entering  Germany  with  cycles  are  in  some 
places  required  to  pay  dnty  (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  nuiy  be  found  on  pp.  53 1-543) ;  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  Thorbum,  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 
diey  only  pass  the  territory  of  Belgium,  when  there  can  be  no  suspicion  of  fraud."  In  Holland, 
loo,  a  similar  rule  was  put  in  force,  as  a  result  of  the  Ingalt  protest.  Nevertheless,  a  complaint 
6i  "vexatious  imposts"  was  made  in  the  C.  T.  C.  Gasei/e  of  Feb.,  '86  (by  "  1419,  14  S.  W. 
E.  D.,"  p.  54),  because,  "  some  time  ago,"  he  had  to  pay  $2  to  the  customs  officer  at  Ant- 
werp, who  at  first  demanded  $20,  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  ail  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  {Outing,  Oct.,  p. 
42) ;  also  the  letter  written  in  '84,  to  the  Canadian  IVheelman,  by  A.  C.  Beasley.  *'  You  will 
not  be  required  to  pay  duty  on  your  machine  at  the  French  frontier,  and  the  French  railways 
will  all  carry  it  as  luggage,  for  every  passenger  is  allowed  30  kilos,  (about  60  lbs.).  They  seldom 
weigh  the  machine,  but  stick  on  a  label  and  charge  you  the  nominal  sum  of  one  penny  for  regis- 
tration.   Usually  yon  are  required  to  sign  a  form  exonerating  the  company  from  any  damage 


6oo  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

that  may  be  sustained. "    A  telegram  from  Rome,  Dec.  ij^  '85,  announced  the  d^sioa  of  ihe 
manners  of  the  railway  system  of  Italy  to  cany  cycles  as  personal  baggage  (a  later  report  ^t 
"  free  "),— reversing  thus  the  proiiibitory  policy  proclaimed  in  a  September  order  that  the  nwfa 
would  not  transport  cycles  at  all  except  in  freight  trains.    This  reform  was  apparently  < 
by  the  influence  of  the  C.  T.  C,  while  the  N.  C.  U.  has  the  credit  of  a  similar  one,  in 
ing  the  Italian  Government  (June,  '85}  to  allow  tourists  to  cross  its  frontier  by  train  without  pay- 
ing duty  for  their  cycles.    Previously  the  practice  had  been  to  collect  about  ^,  with  the  ^teaamt. 
of  returning  it  to  the  owner  in  case  he  took  the  trouble  to  come  back  to  the  same  r.  r.  statioo  ^^ 
on  leaving  Italy.    Tourists  actually  driving  their  wheels  across  the  frontier  had  not  been  bocb- 
ered  in  this  way,  unless  their  appearance  gave  the  customs  officers  *'  reasonable  suspioon  that 
the  machines  were  being  run  in,  as  merchandise,  for  defrauding  the  revenue."    The  rdonn  of 
June  x6  consisted  in  extending  the  rule  to  tourists  accompanying  machines  by  train. — azHl  it 
was  effected  by  an  official  correspondence  of  two  months,  which  included  the  writing  of  only  f<Hr 
letters  by  the  secretary  of  the  N.  C.  U.    These  were  printed  in  Tri.  Joumai  {}\Aj  15,  ^ 
p.  31),  together  with  a  translation  of  the  order  of  the  Minister  of   Finance    *' that  cycles  be 
passed  without  guarantee,  provided  they  have  been  used,  and  provided  the  officers  are  oos- 
vinced  they  are  not  to  be  left  in  Italy  for  speculation."    The  "  C.  T.  C.  Handbook  '*  of  Apr.. 
*86,  nevertheless  says  (probably  through  inadvertence  in  retaining  the  formula  of  its  '85  edition): 
*'  Tourists  entering  Italy  by  rail  may  be  called  upon  to  pay  the  impost,  whidi  is  retomabie  if 
they  get  the  necessary  documenU  at  the  time  of  making  the  deposit " ;  and  it  alludes  noc  at  all 
to  the  reformed  policy  of  the  Italian  railways.    Recent  interesting  experiences  of  Rer.  S.  & 
Barnes  were  detailed  in  two  columns  of  Recreation  {J}Ay  24,  *86,  p.  73 ;  see  p.  323  omU),  show- 
ing that,  when  he  landed  at  Naples,  he  was  forced,  in  spite  of  all  protests  that  the  ensting  law 
allowed  his  tricycle  free  entry,  to  make  a  deposit,  "  under  the  explicit  and  repeated  aasuraitoe 
that  it  would  be  refunded  to  him  at  any  custom-house  through  which  he  might  pass  out  of 
Italy."    He  produced  the  receipt  for  such  deposit,  a  few  weeks  later,  at  the  frontier  town  of 
Ventimiglia,  but  the  functionary  there  in  charge  resolutely  refused  to  refund  the  money,  or  to 
supply  any  written  proof  of  such  refusal,  or  of  the  passage  of  such  tricycle  through  his  custoa>- 
house  into  France.    The  French  customs  men  at  the  same  station  then  insisted  00  exacting 
another  duty,  before  the  tricycle  could  be  returned  to  the  train.     "  They  ignored  the  protnt  that 
no  duty  had  been  demanded  when  it  entered  France  at  the  port  of  Dieppe ;  but  said  that  vriien  I 
embarked  again  from  D.  the  present  deposit  would  be  refunded.    Their  promise  wan  kepi: 
and  I  then  learned  that  there  was  a  special  treaty  between  England  and  France,  for  the  free 
transmission  of  cycles  accompanied  by  their  owners,  but  that  no  such  agreement  existed  betwecs 
France  and  Italy.     I  sent  my  papers  to  the  Naples  customs  officers,  but  they  refused  paymesl 
because  there  was  no  vise  by  Ventimiglia,  though  I  testified  to  fruitless  application  for  the  rar. 
and  could  prove  my  departure  from  Italy  by  my  entrance  into  France.    The  matter  is  now  in 
the  hands  of  the  C.  T.  C,  and  Mr.  Stead,  the  chief  of  its  *  Foreign  Division,'  expresses  the 
hope  that  the  Ventimiglia  man  can  be  made  an  example  of." 

A  customs  duty  of  "  about  ten  cents  a  pound,  gross  weight,"  was  reported  as  the  Meaacan 
stendard  for  velocipedes  (in  Outing ^  Nov.,  '84,  p.  97,  "  Wheeling  Among  the  Aztecs"),  by  Syl- 
vester Baxter,  a  Boston  tourist,  who  paid  $14.50,  because,  in  ignorance  of  this  law,  be  failed  to 
strip  off  the  heavy  packing-case  from  his  bicycle  before  showing  it  to  the  custcnns  officer.  He 
mentioned  that  tlie  steamer  carried  it  free  as  b^gage ;  and  I  presume  such  is  the  usual  nilc. 
The  manner  in  which  my  own  excursion  to  Bermuda  forced  the  United  States  to  issue  the  order 
of  Apr.  9,  '84,  classifying  passengers'  bicycles  as  "  personal  effects,  exempt  from  duty,"  has 
been  detailed  on  p.  370;  and  pp.  3x1-312  may  be  consulted  for  the  antiquated  regulations  bf 
which  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  almost  alone  among  civilized  governments,  pretends  to  piv- 
hibit  all  international  touring  with  the  wheel.  The  Bi.  World  oi  Aug.  6,  '86,  reported  that  the 
Treasury  Department  had  susuined  the  appeal  of  Edwin  Brown,  of  Worcester,  Ms.,  agvast 
the  Collector  of  the  port  of  Boston,  who  at  first  refused  to  grant  free  entry  to  B.'s  tricyde,  on  the 
plea  that  his  having  ridden  it  only  a  single  time  in  England  did  not  ooostitute  audi  "actoal  use 
abroad  "  as  was  contemplated  by  the  regulations  of  the  Treasury, 


XXXV. 

THE  HOTEL  QUESTION. 

Bed-bugs,  cold  victuals  and  bad  service  are  things  which  the  wheelman 
•who  patronizes  country  hotels  cannot  always  avoid.  The  question  is,  "  Why 
increase  the  probability  of  his  suffering  from  them,  by  adopting  a  policy 
which  must  render  him  an  object  of  contempt  to  every  landlord  pretending  to 
recognize  it?"  In  the  previous  chapter,  I  have  given  unstinted  praise  to 
the  League,  for  the  wise  use  made  of  its  power  in  lessening  the  transporta- 
tion tax  levied  by  the  railroads  upon  passengers'  bicycles;  but  in  the  present 
one  I  wish  most  unreservedly  to  denounce  the  folly  of  attempting  any  similar 
cut-down  in  respect  to  the  charges  of  country  hotels.  In  so  far  as  the  League 
may  be  considered  as  committed  to  the  support  of  such  foolishness,  I  am 
forced  to  part  company  from  it,  and  to  cry  aloud,  in  the  name  of  economy  as 
"well  as  humanity,  for  a  reversal  of  its  policy. 

To  those  hotel-keepers  who  have  proclaimed,  by  the  offer  of  "  reduced 
rates  to  wheelmen,**  that  they  consider  them  to  be  a  cheap  and  despicable  set, 
for  whose  entertainment  "  the  leavings "  of  more  respectable  patrons  are 
quite  good  enough,  let  me  say :  "  You  are  mistaken.  It  will  be  money  in 
your  pockets  if  you  promptly  abandon  that  plan  of  giving  your  houses  an  evil 
reputation,  among  a  well-to-do  class  of  people  who  hate  humbuggery.  An- 
nounce rather  that  you  shall  charge  full  rates  to  touring  bicyclers,  because 
you  think  them  worthy  of  the  very  best  of  treatment,  and  because  you  want 
to  win  the  permanent  good-will  of  their  friends  as  well  as  themselves."  On 
the  other  hand,  I  say  to  tourists :  "  Take  pains  to  avoid  all  hotels  which  offer 
'  reduced  rates  ';  or,  if  obliged  to  patronize  any  such,  be  careful  to  make  their 
managers  understand  in  advance  that  you  prefer  to  pay  full  price  and  enjoy 
decent  accommodations,  including  a  bathing  privilege." 

It  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  great  misfortune  that,  in  the  absence  of 
any  other  model,  the  "  C.  T.  C.  plan  "  has  been  so  generally  allowed  to  guide 
the  utterances  and  actions  of  such  League  officers  as  have  attempted  to  say 
or  do  anything  in  regard  to  getting  together  a  select  list  of  American  hotels  for 
the  patronage  of  bicycle  tourists.  They  have  taken  a  purely  perfunctory  view 
of  the  matter,  without  giving  serious  thought  to  the  bodily  discomforts  in- 
flicted upon  innocent  victims  as  an  ultimate  logical  result  of  adopting  a  wrong 
theory  of  "  official  duties."  They  have  been  more  officious  than  wise, — more 
zealous  than  discreet  The  tourists  themselves  have  had  no  voice  in  shaping 
any  such  suicidal  policy.  All  men  who  have  pushed  their  bicycles  straight 
through  the  country  for  as  much  as  a  week  seem  to  agree  with  me  in  demand- 


6o2 .        TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

ing  better  food  and  lodging  rather  than  cheaper.  At  least,  no  one  of  them 
has  ever  tried  to  controvert  my  numerous  articles  in  the  cycling  press,  shov- 
ing the  deplorable  tendency  of  the  opposite  demand ;  nor  have  I  ever  found 
an  experienced  tourist  to  express  in  private  any  other  than  a  hostile  opinion 
of  the  picayune  policy  which  misrepresents  him  as  a  poverty-stricken  and 
penurious  person,  humbly  begging  for  a  petty  "  reduction  of  rates-"  Even  in 
England  (where  the  social  conditions  and  inn-keeping  customs  are  so  sharply 
contrasted  to  our  own  as  to  render  a  "  reduced-rates  plan  "  less  obtrusively 
absurd  than  here),  the  results  are  not  entirely  admirable,  as  may  be  judged 
by  this  recent  extract  from  a  London  weekly's  leading  editorial  ( Wk^eling^ 
May  5,  *86,  p.  49) :  "  We  object  to  the  greater  number  of  C.  T.  C.  hotels,  be- 
cause at  them  the  cyclist  is  regarded  as  a  sort  of  strange,  wild  beast,  to  be 
packed  away  in  a  bed-room,  into  whose  window  the  tile-prowling  cat  can  sing 
the  whole  night  long ;  and  as  a  waif,  to  be  fed  in  a  careless  sort  of  way,— 
quantity  being  the  only  item  studied  with  reference  to  his  comfort.  That 
such  is  the  rbU  of  many  C.  T.  C.  houses  we  know  from  personal  experience, 
and  it  is  against  such  treatment  that  we  protest."  So  thorough  a  condemna- 
tion from  an  expert  seems  specially  well  calculated  to  show  the  wisdom  of 
what  was  said,  after  English  experiences  of  five  years  ago,  by  the  League 
consul  for  Boston,  in  the  earliest-published  report  ever  addressed  to  that  body 
concerning  the  hotel  question.    His  words  were  substantially  as  follows: 

"  Having  seen  repeatedly,  since  my  return  from  England,  how  much  fault  has  been  latdy 
found  with  the  B.  T.  C.  method,  the  more  I  have  thought  of  the  matter  the  more  firmly  I  have 
become  fixed  in  the  beh'ef  that  any  reduction  should  be  made  a  secondary  consideration  in  the 
appointment  of  hotels.  What  we  want  is  good  food  and  beds,  at  a  fair  rate.  The  main  thiag 
is  to  have  in  each  town  and  village  some  place  where  suitable  refreshment  can  be  secured.  I 
should  recommend  that  consuls  in  small  places  select  tkt  hest^  regardless  of  any  reductioo.  At 
present,  the  tourist  is  ignorant  as  to  which  is  '  the  best,'  in  towns  where  two  or  more  bobeb 
exist,  and  ignorant  also  as  to  towns  where  any  sort  of  entertainment  may  be  had.  The  acoois- 
raodaiions  in  our  average  country  hotels  are  so  poor  that  the  proprietors  should  understand  that 
it  will  be  for  their  advantage  to  make  an  extra  effort  in  their  treatment  of  bicyclers ;  that  tbey 
want  good  fare  and  good  attendance,  for  which  they  are  willing  to  pay." 

The  date  of  these  remarks  was  Oct.  ao,  '81,  and  they  were  signed  by  J.  S.  Dean,  now 
editor  of  the  Bi.  World,  They  were  printed,  with  the  rest  of  his  report,  in  thai  paper  of  Nov. 
4,  and  they  so  commended  themselves  to  my  approval  that  I  at  once  offered  oongratulatioDS, 
saying  (^B.  W.^  Nov.  25,  '81,  p.  28) :  "  Yes,  indeed  !  What  the  touring  wheelman  wants  of  the 
country  tavern-keeper  is  not  a  '  reduction  of  rates,'  but  an  increase  of  comforts.  The  Lca|^ 
ought  to  issue  a  list  of  the  hotels  known  to  be  '  the  best '  in  the  smaller  towns  visited  by  Wcy- 
clers,  and  the  proprietors  thereof  should  be  made  to  pledge  themselves,  in  return  for  the  adver- 
tisement thus  given  them;  to  provide  '  the  best '  in  their  power  for  the  accommodatioo  of 
wheelmen.  They  should  be  made  to  understand  that  these  persons  have  a  liking  for  bath- 
rooms, or,  in  lack  of  them,  large  wash-bowls  and  pitchers  and  plenty  of  towels ;  that  they  often 
want  their  damp  clothes  dried,  or  their  dirty  clothes  washed,  in  very  short  order ;  that  they 
prefer  to  sleep  in  lai^e  and  quiet  rooms,  to  which  the  air  and  sunlight  have  ready  access;  that 
they  can  all  appreciate  good  food ;  and  that  most  of  them  consider  good  milk  the  best  drink 
wherewith  to  satisfy  their  raging  thirst.  If  inn-keepers  could  be  convinced  that  the  attractim 
and  retention  of  wheelmen's  patronage  depended  upon  paying  attention  to  things  of  this  sort, 
they  would  soon  get  into  the  way  of  providing  better  accommodations  than  are  now  usoaDy 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION.  603" 

met  whh.  If  '  reduction  of  rates '  is  sought  for  at  all,  it  should  be  only  in  the  large  cities, 
where  'an  increase  of  comforts '  is  not  a  crying  want.  Were  the  League  thus  to  be  the  means 
of  raising  the  grade  (rather  than  lowering  the  price)  of  a  series  of  country  hotels,  it  would  per- 
form for  the  general  public  a  not  insignificant  service." 

Those  words  were  written  while  I  was  still  smarting  under  the  recent  memory  of  the  "  125 
bites  "  which  the  bed-bugs  had  out  of  me  during  a  single  night  in  Maryland  (see  p.  239) ;  and  I 
also  recall  with  some  bitterness  that,  on  the  sole  occasion  of  my  allowing  the  advice  of  a  local 
cycler  to  tempt  me  into  patronizing  "the  League  hotel,"  despite  my  usual  rule  of  patronizing 
"the  highest  priced,"  I  was  again  bitten,  as  well  as  badly  fed.  This  proper  punishment  of 
folly  perhaps  helped  inspire  the  warning  against  "reductions"  which  I  printed,  a  few  weeks 
later,  as  a  preface  to  my  "  circular  to  hotet-keepera  "  {Springfitld  Wheelmen^ s  Gautie,  Aug., 
*84,  p.  51),  and  from  which  I  extract  the  following  :  "Additional  experience  of  hotel  horrors, 
'  in  24  different  States  and  Provinces,'  has  only  confirmed  my  belief  that  what  the  country 
towns  need  ir  better  hotels— not  cheaper  ones.  The  curse  of  Canadian  touring  is  the  difficulty 
of  finding  a  tavern  which  charges  more  than  $1  a  day.  The  accommodations  offered  there  for 
that  price  are  sometimes  as  good  as  one  gets  in  the  United  States  for  $2, — while  on  the  other 
hand,  the  last-named  rate  often  ensures  here  (as  it  always  does  in  Canada)  a  thoroughly  com- 
fortable treatment.  It  is  the  standard  daily  price  all  over  the  Union, — outside  the  large  cities, — 
and  is  usually  assigned  equally  to  the  four  items,  l(xlging,  breakfast,  dinner  and  supper.  What 
sensible  traveler  will  pretend  that  a  single  one  of  these,  if  really  gvod,  can  be  profitably  supplied 
by  a  hotel-keeper  for  less  than  50  c.  ?  Some  very  bad  meals  and  rooms  are  supplied  at  that 
rate  by  many  hotels,  and  these  are  naturally  the  ones  which  will  consent  to  a  pitiful  '  reduc- 
tion,' of  five  or  ten  cents  on  an  item, '  to  League  men.'  Believing  this,  I  take  special  pains  to 
avoid  all  places  where  '  reductions '  are  announced ;  and  no  traveler  of  experience  needs  any 
assertion  of  mine  as  to  the  wisdom  and  economy  of  doing  so.  *  The  best  is  always  the 
cheapest  :*  that  is  the  simple  rule  for  transient  patrons  of  hotels  to  follow.  Were  they  planning 
to  stay  a  week  or  a  month  at  a  place,  they  might  contrive  to  save  money  by  choosing  a  second- 
rate  hotel;  but  for  a  single  meal  or  lodging  they  will  save  money,  as  well  as  their  self-respect, 
by  patronizing  the  *besL'  Let  the  League,  therefore,  lend  its  influence  not  to  the  breaking 
down  of  rates,  which  are  already  too  low,  but  to  the  building  up  of  the  standard  of  the  poorest 
of  the  two-dollar  houses  to  the  very  creditable  level  now  held  by  the  best  of  them.  The  price 
is  really  a  fixed  quantity,  and  any  appearance  of  '  cutting  under '  simply  ensures  to  the  assumed 
beneficiary  the  poorest  accommodations  which  the  hotel-keeper  can  palm  off  upon  him.  If  it 
is  known  that  the  '  League  hotel '  is  always  designed  to  be  the  '  best '  one  in  its  locality,  its 
owner  will  have  a  motive  for  keeping  it  up  to  the  standard ;  and  he  will  welcome  touring  wheel' 
men  to  enjoy  its  choicest  comforts,  as  being  a  class  of  patrons  who  expect  to  have  good  things 
and  to  pay  the  full  price  for  them.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  picayune  policy  of  seeking  '  spe- 
cial rates '  be  persisted  in  (in  stupid  disregard  of  the  different  conditions  of  hotel-keeping  in 
England  and  America),  the  man  who  '  reduces '  a  50  c.  dinner  to  40  c.  will  take  good  care  that 
bd  reduces  the  cost  of  it  to  half  that,  and  he  will  despise  the  cycler  besides." 

"The  methods  of  the  C.  T.  C.  and  L,  A.  W.,  in  the  direction  of  hotel  appointments,  are, 
to  our  mind,  all  wrong.  Reduction  in  rates  too  often  carries  with  it  reduction  in  fare.  We 
hope  to  see  the  time  when,  through  the  influence  of  these  two  societies,  wheelmen  (paying 
regular  rates)  will  get  increased  attention  and  special  privileges."  So  said  the  editor  of  the 
Bi.  World {jvti.  2,  '85,  p.  138),  in  his  review  of  the  previous  year's  wheeling  progress;  and  he 
reprinted  the  words  (Jan.  x6,  p.  171),  in  response  to  my  cry  that  "  the  only  effective  way  for  an 
intelligent  minority  to  drive  the  stupid  majority  over  to  the  side  of  reason  and  common-sense 
is  to  keep  pounding  away  at  them  everlastingly  with  the  sledge-hammer  of  truth."  I  added: 
"  Let  me  say  to  those  non-tonring  wheelmen  who  mistakenly  suppose  that  anything  is  really 
gained  by  a  pretended  '  reduction  of  rates,'  There  is  no  such  thing  in  this  world  as  '  eating 
your  cake  and  having  it  too ' ;  and  any  apparent  reduction  of  10  or  20  per  cent.,  which  a  hotel- 
keeper  may  make  from  his  ordinary  prices,  means  a  real  reduction  by  him  of  twice  as  great  a 
percentage  in  the  acoommodaiions  which  he  supplies  for  the  money.    By  the  bitter  memories  of 


6o4         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

many  bed-bug  bites,  I  warn  every  tourist  to  patronize  the  highest-priced  hoteb  within  hb  reach, 
and  to  shun,  as  he  would  shun  a  pestilence,  those  hostelries  which  announce  a  '  reductko  ol 
rates.' "    A  fortnight  later  (^B.  IV.,  Jan.  30,  '85)  I  again  plied  the  sledge-hammer,  thus  :  "So 
long  as  '  champagne '  continues  preferable  to  '  dder,'  so  long  as  dean  and  costly  ihings  con- 
tinue preferable  to  cheap  and  nasty  ones,  the  trader  who  enters  the  markets  of  the  world  with  a 
really  good  artide,  will  outsell  the  '  Cheap  John/  every  time.    Nothing  is  cheap  which  a  mis 
does  n't  want ;  and  certainly  no  touring  wheelman  wants  a  mouldy  bed  in  an  ill-vemDated  foqbi, 
as  a  resting-place  after  a  hard  day's  ride.    The  ultimate  logical  result  of  '  reduced  hotel  rate* 
is,  necessarily  and  inevitably,  that  the  assumed  beneficiaries  thereof  are  forced  to  accept  '  the 
leavings '  of  those  who  pay  the  regulation  price.    Witness  the  sarcastic  remark  of  the  Wkt^s 
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  vk*ere  carefofiy 
stowed  under  the  roof,  at  a  saving  of  50  c.  a  day.'    Likewise  take  the  testimony  of  a  recesi 
traveler  in  England  :  *  I  went  to  several  C.  T.  C.  hotels,  but  found  them  to  be  amcomfonabie, 
and  in  many  cases  third-dass.     I  was  obliged  to  go  dsewhere.     I  found  that  a  C.  T.  C  taikr 
who  m^de  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  iL 
The  fallacy  of  supposing  that  by  some  trick  or  '  arrangement '  something  can  be  goc  '  lor 
nothin*,'  is  very  dear  to  the  human  heart,  especially  to  the  youthful  human  heart ;  but  it  k 
absolutely  a  fallacy.     Yet  an  editorial  supporter  of  the  League's  ostensible  policy  asks  :  '  Wlnt 
does  the  B.  W.  refer  to  when  it  speaks  of  "increased  attention  and  spedal  privileges'*?    Is 
it  not  dealing  in  glittering  generalities  ?    If  not,  we  would  be  glad  to  know  it.     Good,  first-dan 
food ;  good,  accessible,  and  well-f uniished  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  con- 
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,  acceasiUe 
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  "  redoc* 
tion  of  rates."    There  is  no  "glittering  generality"  in  the  demand  for  "increased  atteatba 
and  special  privileges  "  as  a  reward  for  the  League's  recommendation  of  a  given  hotd  to  the 
patronage  of  wheelmen.    On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  specific  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  dislies  in  an  adjacent  kitchen  or  diningJull ;  it 
means  that  the  landlord  should  provide  a  late  supper  or  early  breakfast  for  him  without  gniD- 
bling ;  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,  ia 
short,  just  those  "  increased  attentions  and  special  privileges  "  which  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  g^ad  to  get 
by  offering  them  the  worst  at  'reduced  rates.'  As  an  individual,  I  insist  on  getting  mysdf 
included  among  the  former ;  and,  in  so  far  as  the  policy  of  '  L.  A.  W.'  or  '  C.  T.  C*  tendi  to 
make  the  hotel-keepers  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  oompuhioa. 
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  indiocd  to 
look  upon  all  the  red-tape  formalities  of  '  offidal  appointment '  as  so  much  fol-de-rd  and 
child's  play,  which  they  submit  to  because  it  costo  them  nothing,  but  not  because  they  have  any 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION.  605 


great  faith  in  its  attracting  customers  to  their  houses.    I  say  '  costs  them  nothing,'  because 
theii-  fkroroise  of  '  reduced  rates '  implies  the  intention  to  reduce  the  accommodations  propor- 
tionately, in  case  any  victims  are  drawn  in  by  such  promise.    When  asked  to  make  a  definite 
outlay  for  attracting  patronage  (even  so  small  an  outlay  as  $i,  to  ensure  the  presence  in  their 
offices  of  '  the  great  American  road-book,  club-directory  and  hotel-guide,'  for  the  convenience  of 
touring  wheelmen,  and  for  the  world-wide  advertisement  of  their  own  hostelries),  they  are  so  slow 
and  reluctant  about  it  as  to  prove  their  general  scepticism  on  the  subject  of  wheeling."  The  diffi' 
culties  of  overcoming  this  scepticism  were  detailed  in  a  four-column  article  of  mine  {Wheely 
Dec  26,  '84),  showing  that  most  of  the  88  hotels  then  enrolled  as  supporters  of  my  scheme  had 
been  won  to  it  by  the  verbal  persuasion  of  local   subscribers.    Only  lo  responses  came  to  me 
from  90  hotels  to  which  I  addre.ssed  sealed  hectograph  letters,  reminding  each  proprietor  of  the 
exact  date  when  I  registered  at  his  house,  while  touring  on  a  bicycle,  and  asking  him  to  fairly  con- 
sider the  argument  of  my  printed  "  hotel  circular."  As  originally  published,  in  the  S/^ingJUld 
f^^Jkeeimen^s  Gazette^  and  freely  mailed  by  the  editor  thereof  to  the  618  leading  hotels  with 
'whose  names  I  supplied  him,  the  circular  brought  "  just  one  "  response !    A  trio  of  exception- 
ally intelligent  and  good-natured  landlords,  whom  I  severally  met  while  touring  in  Pennsyl- 
vania, New  York  and  Connecticut,  and  persuaded  to  take  the  book,  told  me  they  did  so 
because  they  believed  its  road-reports  might  be  worth  a  dollar  to  them,  and  not  because  of  my 
ar^gument  that  the  advertisement  implied  in  the  book's  triple  mention  of  hotel's  name  would  be 
of  value.    They  professed  an  entire  disbelief  as  to  the  eidstence  of  any  bicycling  traffic  worth 
making  a  bid  for.     Now,  if  such  men  cherish  this  mistaken   idea  of  the  case,  and  attach  no 
business  importance  to  so  tangible  a  thing  as  an  advertisement  in  a  book  with  a  guaranteed  cir- 
culation of  5000  copies,  what  value  would  they  be  likely  to  put  on  so  shadowy  and  remote  a 
thing  as  "  official  recommendation  of  the  L.  A.  W."  or  C.  T.  C.  ? 

I  answer  this  by  again  reiterating  the  truth  that  their  willingness  to  "  offer  reduced  rates  to 
the  League "  will  always  be  in  exact  proportion  to  their  contempt  for  the  League.  If  that 
organization  wishes  to  convince  the  landlords  of  its  respectability  and  practical  importance,  the 
very  first  step  must  be  in  the  line  of  proving  that  the  people  whom  it  represents  demand  the 
best  attainable  treatment,  and  are  willing  to  pay  the  highest  price  for  it. '  The  age  of  the  vast 
majority  of  American  cyclers  ranges  between  20  and  35  years;  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  matter  of  pleasure), 
and  whose  family  friends  and  connections  also  travel ;  they  are  men  who,  if  not  wealthy,  are  as 
a  class  distinctively  well-to-do ;  and,  as  such,  they  not  only  spend  money  themselves,  but  they 
are  influential  in  shaping  the  direction  in  which  their  numerous  acquaintances  spend  money. 
In  a  word,  they  are  a  set  of  people  whose  patronage  and  good-will  are  specially  worth  securing 
by  the  hotel-keeper.  If  the  League  can  convince  the  latter  of  this  truth,  and  also  of  its  own 
power  to  divert  that  patronage  and  good-will  towards  the  hotels  which  make  a  bid  for  it  by 
offering  the  highest  standard  of  comfort,  it  will  finally  force  them  to  recognize  its  recommenda- 
tion as  worthy  of  real  respect.  For  a  certificate,  to  be  hung  in  the  hotel-offices,  I  should  sug- 
gest'some  such  formula  as  the  following  :  "  The  League  of  American  Wheelmen  recommends 
this  hotel  to  the  patronage  cf  all  tourists  by  wheel.  The  consideration  offered  by  the  owner  is 
a  willingness  to  help  ensure  the  comfort  of  such  tourists  by  certain  special  attentions  not  needed 
for  travelers  by  rail.  Any  wheelman  who  may  be  denied  these  advantages  (such  as  the  serving 
of  meals  earlier  or  later  than  regular  hours,  the  prompt  drying  of  clothes,  the  convenient  storage 
of  machine,  the  assignment  to  a  quiet  and  well-ventilated  sleeping-room),  or  who  may  suffer 
incivility  or  neglect,  at  this  hotel,  is  requested  lo  write  a  definite  statement  of  his  grievances  to 
the  Secretar>'-Editor,  Box  916,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  On  the  other  hand,  every  one  who  may  be 
impressed  with  the  comfortable  and  courteous  treatment  accorded  him  here  should  take  pains 
to  pnxrlaim  the  fact  among  his  acquaintances,  and  thus  help  give  the  hotel  a  reputation  as  a 
place  which  offers  a  warm  welcome  to  touring  wheelmen.  This  certificate  b  issued  to  Brown 
&  Jones,  proprietors  of  the  American  House,  May  20,  *86,  and  may  be  withdrawn  at  the 
pleasure  of  the  League."    (Signatures  of  president  and  chief  consul.)    Those  who  are  curious  to 


6o6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

compare  this  with  the  Lea^e**  actual  formula  "  reported  by  the  '  committee  on  hotel  < 
and  approved  by  the  board  of  officers  "  may  find  the  same  in  the  Wheel  oi  Apr.  ii,  '84.  I  pre- 
sume this  is  still  nominally  in  vogue,  though  I  have  never  been  able  to  discover  a  copy  in  jsiat 
elsewhere ;  but  I  should  think  that  a  consul  who  could  seriously  seek  a  hotel-keeper's  signature 
for  so  trivial  a  document  roust  be  a  person  of  great  innocence,  or  else  hardihood. 

It  may  be  worth  remembering  that,  as  keepers  of  country  taverns  often  rely  chiefly  for  profit 
upon  sales  at  the  bar  (food  and  lodging  being  supplied  incidentally),  and  as  bicyclers  rarely  pv- 
chase  any  fire-water,  a  suggestion  of  "  reduced  rates  "  for  such  abstemious  guests  naust  seem 
specially  exasperating  to  them.  The  absurdity  of  the  caae  is  intensified  by  the  fact  that  out- 
door exercise  tends  to  give  the  tourist  a  ravenous  appetite.  The  extra  quantity  of  food,  the  extra 
labor  of  serving  it  outside  of  regular  hours,  the  extra  trouble,  however  slight,  of  drying  ^oiho 
and  storing  the  wheel, — these  are  things  which  a  good-natured  landlord  will  concede  with  <J«eer- 
fulness,  though  they  would  justify  him  in  charging  more  than  the  regular  rates ;  but  what  can  he 
think  of  a  policy  which,  besides  these  concessions,  tries  to  knock  off  a  beggarly  five  or  tea  cents 
from  his  r^;ular  half-dollar  charge  ?  The  aaive  tourist  rarely  stops  *'  a  day  "  at  any  one  place ; 
but  he  often  in  that  time  uses  four  hotels  for  his  breakfast,  dinner,  supper  and  lodgii^.  Any 
one  hotel's  "  reduction  "  therefore  afiEectsnot  a  full  day's  rate,  but  only  a  fractional  part  ol  it, — 
and  is  thereby  made  to  appear  all  the  more  contemptible.  As  regards  myself,  the  one  time  <rf 
all  others  when  a  consciousness  of  a  hotel-roan's  looking  upon  me  with  contempt  has  pow^-  to 
depress  my  spirits  is  at  the  end  of  a  long  day's  ride.  Tired  thus,  it  annoys  me  to  think  that 
some  "  League  consul  "  may  have  worried  him  into  the  belief  that  every  bicyde  owner  is  a  fair 
victim  for  "  reduced  rates."  Then  is  the  one  time  when  it  cheers  me  to  be  treated  whh  soose 
show  of  welcome  and  friendliness.  I  like  to  have  the  clerk  act  as  if  he  recognized  the  faimea 
of  rewarding  my  day's  struggle  on  the  road  by  a  prompt  endeavor  to  make  me  comfortable, — by 
showing  me  to  a  bath-room,  if  there  is  one,  giving  me  a  quiet  chamber,  and  aocepiing  cheerfully 
my  rule  of  "  a  half  hour's  rest  before  supper."  As  an  ordinary  traveler  by  train,  I  do  not  care 
for  any  special  attentions  of  this  sort.  Anythii^  that  is  offered  is  "good  enough,"  and  the 
less  said  about  it  the  better.  But  at  the  end  of  a  day's  wheeling,  a  few  pleasant  words  and  a 
manifested  effort  to  be  obliging,  help  take  away  the  sense  of  weariness.  Examples  of  the  oppo- 
site kind  have  been  described  on  pp.  338,  241 ;  and  it  is  for  the  prevention  of  that  sort  of  rhiog 
that  the  League  should  use  its  influence.  As  regards  food,  likewise,  I  speak  as  an  ecooocnist, 
in  denouncing  the  folly  of  "  reduced  rates  " — not  as  an  epicure.  Blessed  with  a  good  digesiioa. 
I  can  live  on  very  simple  fare,  or  even  abstain  entirely  from  eating  for  many  hours  at  a  strenrh, 
without  any  special  discomfort.  It  is  only  when  I  am  "on  the  road  "  that  the  desire  to  pro- 
cure the  best  of  food  seems  exalted  to  a  worthy  ambition.  The  chance  of  getting  a  "  75  c  din- 
ner," instead  of  the  usual  "50  c.  dinner,"  seems  then  worth  riding  many  miles  to  improve. 
The  prospect  of  finding  a  "  high-priced  hotel "  seenu  as  tempting  then  as  the  mirage  of  an 
oasis  to  a  traveler  in  the  desert     The  severest  economy  seems  then  to  demand  "  the  best." 

The  quasi-adoption  by  the  League  of  a  "  reduced-rates  "  policy,  contrary  to  the  recommeii- 
dation  of  that  earliest  one  of  its  officers  who  had  given  any  study  to  the  matter,  was  doubtless 
due  in  part  to  the  feeling  that  there  was  need  of  having  some  "  tangible  argument "  to  offer 
candidates  who  hesitated  about  paying  membership  fees  merely  as  a  matter  of  sentimenL  lo 
these  later  days,  however,  when  each  member  receives  a  weekly  newspaper  which  would  alooe 
cost  more  than  those  fees,  and  when  members  of  the  older  Divisions  also  freely  receive  maps 
and  road-books  similarly  expensive,  the  hotel  question  may  well  be  omitted  from  the  "  money 
argument."  The  wrong  policy  was  also  due  in  part  to  a  confusion  of  ideas, — a  failure  to  dis- 
tinguish sharply  between  city  and  country, — a  careless  assumption  that  the  conditions  which  gif« 
satisfaction  when  a  lot  of  officers  hold  a  committee  meeting,  or  a  lot  of  club-men  assemble  (or  a 
parade,  and  employ  a  grand  hotel  as  their  rendezvous  and  headquarters,  are  identical  with  the 
conditions  which  the  individual  tourist  encounters  when  pushing  his  bicycle  stiai^t  aki^ 
through  the  little  towns  and  villages.  It  is  to  the  defense  of  the  interests  of  this  country  toor- 
ist  that  I  have  been  careful  to  restrict  my  remarks,  in  condemnation  of  the  "  cheap  and  nasty  " 
system ;  whereas  such  slight  defense  as  I  have  ever  seen  given  the  system  has  been  in  the  inter- 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION.  607 

est  of  the  committee-men  and  dub-men,  who  go  by  train  Irom  one  big  hostelry  to  another,  and 
who  feel  pleased  by  a  policy  which  materially  lessens  their  expenses  at  those  places.  The  error 
is  in  assuming  that  such  experience  impairs  my  argument  at  all,  or  is  in  any  way  analogous  to 
that  of  genuine  explorers  of  remote  country  highways.  When  some  touring  neophyte,  having 
ended  a  day's  wheeling  from  Providence  or  Worcester  to  Boston,  rests  two  days  at  the  Hotel 
Vendome,  he  may  perhaps  devote  one  of  them  to  writing  a  letter  to  show  that,  "  as  the  deduc» 
tion  from  his  bill,  on  account  of  his  League  ticket,  amounted  to  more  than  the  cost  of  it,  and 
implied  no  perceptible  diminution  in  comfort,  the  '  reduced-rates  policy  '  is  a  wise  one  " ;  but 
if  I  could  put  a  hook  in  that  neophyte's  ear,  and  drag  him  off  for  a  little  experience  wiih  the 
straw  beds  and  broken  victuals  of  Podunk  and  Waybackvillc,  he  would  sing  a  different  strain. 

As  restricted  to  the  cities'  high-priced  hotel;}  (ihosc  whose  daily  chaige  is  ^5,  or  ^4  or  even 
$3),  the  League's  policy  of  asking  reduced  rates  might  be  plausibly  defended ;  and,  though  I 
should  not  approve  of  it,  there  are  several  reasons  which  would  deter  me  from  offering  any  vio- 
lent protest  against  it.  On  the  one  hand,  a  variety  of  choice  as  regards  lodging-places  and  res- 
taurants is  offered  the  wayfarer  in  every  great  city ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  highest  prices 
represent  so  broad  a  margin  of  profit  and  so  great  a  degree  of  luxury  that  a  reduction  in  ihem 
does  not  signify  loss  to  the  landlord  or  discomfort  to  the  beneficiary.  E,  g,^  the  very  poorest 
accommodations  which  would  be  offered  a  ^  reduced-rates  "  patron  of  an  establishment  like  the 
Vendome  would  probably  be  superior  to  the  best  which  can  be  got  at  any  of  the  ordibary  coun- 
try hotels.  Still  further,  there  may  be  manifest  justice  in  arranging  for  reduced  rates  when  a 
large  party  of  wheelmen  quarter  themselves  upon  a  small  hotel, — ^inasmuch  as  they  will  inevi- 
tably have  to  submit  to  a  loss  of  comfort,  from  the  exhaustion  of  its  resources,  even  though  full 
price  be  paid.  Thus,  when  a  little  city  like  Springfield  is  invaded  by  several  thousands  of 
strangers,  on  an  occasion  like  the  tournament,  no  one  of  them  can  reasonably  expect  to  get  as 
quiet  a  room,  or  as  good  a  variety  of  food,  or  as  prompt  service,  as  when  he  has  the  town  more 
to  himself.  He  may  rightly  then  demand  reduced  rates  for  diminished  comforts,  because  his 
comforts  will  be  diminished  anyhow.  The  best  that  the  hotel-keepers  can  do  in  taking  care  of 
such  a  crowd  is  of  necessity  much  inferior  to  their  ordinary  "  best,"  and  they  can  make  a  fair 
profit  by  chaiging  less  than  their  ordinary  prices.  Let  no  one  presume  to  mbrepresent  me, 
therefore,  as  objecting  to  special  hotel-rates  for  special  occasions.  If  a  party  of  wheelmen 
wish  to  bargain  with  an  inn-keeper  for  a  specified  sort  of  supper  or  lodgings  at  a  specified 
price  (whether  greater  or  less  than  his  usual  one),  I  say  well  and  good.  It  is  simply  their 
own  private  business;  and  the  arrangement  of  it  cannot  affect  the  reputation  or  comfort  of 
myself  or  any  other  tourist.  What  I  cry  out  against  is  the  poor  economy  of  trying  to  knock 
down,  "  for  the  benefit  of  the  touring  bicycler,"  any  ordinary  hotel-rate  which  stands  at  less 
than  $3.  "  Penny  wise  and  pound  foolish  "  is  the  only  title  for  such  a  policy.  What  I  insist 
that  the  touring  bicycler  really  wants  is  the  reputation  of  cheerfully  paying  for  "  the  best " 
which  the  highest-priced  hotels  can  offer,  and  of  freely  advertising  the  names  of  those  which 
cheerfully  offer  him  "  their  best." 

I  think  it  unfortunate  that  the  cheapest  and  meanest  of  our  country  hotels  should  persist  in 
imitating  the  higher-priced  ones,  by  clinging  to  the  "  American  system  "  of  offering  a  great  pro- 
fusion and  variety  of  food  at  a  fixed  rate  per  meal.  I  should  be  much  better  pleased  if  the 
average  bill-of-fare  were  simplified,  by  omitting  half  its  items  and  improving  the  quality  of  the  re- 
mainder. But  the  contrast  which  is  presented  by  the  cut-and-dried  "  English  system,"  going 
to  the  other  extreme  of  frugality  and  sameness,  Is  not  entirely  admirable ;  and  the  following 
illustration  of  it  seems  worth  reprinting  as  a  curiosity  ("  C.  T.  C.  Hand-book,"  Apr.,  '86,  pp. 
35.38)  :  *'  J.  Smith,  proprietor  of  the  Bull  Hotel,  hereby  agrees  ( i)  that  he  will  at  all  times  receive 
and  entertain  any  of  the  members  of  the  C.  T.  C,  whether  ladies  or  gentlemen,  and  will  chaige 
them  a  tariff  which  shall  in  no  case  exceed  the  following  :  Breakfast  or  tea,  of  eggs,  with  tea, 
coffee,  chocolate  or  cocoa,  37  c.  (or  43  c.  if  ham,  chops,  steak,  cold  joint  or  fish  be  added);  lun- 
cheon,  of  cold  meat,  salad  and  cheese,  50  c. ;  dinner,  of  soup  or  fish,  joint,  vegetables,  sweets  and 
cheese,  50  c. ;  supper,  of  cold  meat  and  salad,  43  c  ;  single-bedded  room  for  one,  $0  c. ;  double- 
bedded  room  for  two,  87  c. ;  chambermaid's  fee  for  each  member  each  night,  12  c. ;  boots's  fee  for 


6o8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

each  member  each  night,  6  c  ;  waiter's  fee  for  each  member  each  meal,  6  c    Stabling  or  warehoos- 
ing  of  cycles  provided  free  during  the  member's  stay  at  his  house.    (2)  That  he  will  charge  the  said 
tariflf  only  to  the  bona/ide  members  of  the  club,  but  they  shall  first  be  required  by  him  to  prodiKe 
their  respective  and  individual  tickets  of  membership  for  the  then  current  year,  and  further  that  be 
will  tut  accord  or  admit  to  any  privileges,  benefits  or  reduction  derivable  under  this  agreement, 
any  cyclist  or  tourist  who  is  net  a  member  of  the  C.  T.  C.    (3)  That  he  will  at  any  time  set  a&ide  a 
room  for  the  holding  of  any  committee  or  council  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 
premises,  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  thai 
the  tariff  is  as  follows  :  "  Tea  or  coffee,  with  eggs,  in  the  morning,  or  plain  tea,  with  eggs,  at 
evening,  37  t  (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  cheese,  62  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. ;  tabU  d'*h&Uj  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  charges  in 
the  various  towns  and  villages  vary  to  such  a  degree  that  no  advantage  would  attend  the  adop- 
tion of  a  fixed  tariff.    The  figures  exacted  at  the  hotels  recommended  in  the  t^and-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 
20  per  cent,  from  their  ordinary  prices  upon  production  of  membership  ticket."  (Sec  pp.  639-41.) 
The  foregoing  sutement  shows  that  all  the  C.  T.  C.  hoteb  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland 
charge  75  c.  for  lodging  (with  attendance  fees),  as  against  50  c.  of  the  usual  $2  hotels  in  this 
country;  and  it  is  a  fair  inference  that  the  three  meals  which  could  be  got  for  the  remaining 
$1.25  in  the  former  case  would  be  far  less  satisfactory  than  the  "  breakfast,  dinner  and  sup- 
per" which  could  be  got  for  the  remaining  1^1.50  in  the  latter  case.     In  other  words,  after  aJ] 
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  %i  country  taverns.     This  again  demonstrates  the  folly  of  trying  to  beat  down  that 
standard  rate.     Good  accommodations  cannot  profitably  be  provided  for  less.     What  bicyde  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  wnll  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.  10  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  attadi  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  all  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  sith  a 
bicycle  deserves  specially  good  treatment,  and  that  he  will  advertise  the  fact  of  such  treatment 
among  all  hb  cycling  friends.     An  extreme  example  of  what  the  league  ought  iw/  to  do  has  been 
offered,  oddly  enough,  by  its  chief  consul  in  the  great  gold-bearing  State  which  is  specially  cred- 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION. 


609 


iKed  'vritii  fanroriag  laiye  axMl  Ubenl  ideaa about  11101M7  matters;  for  he  announeed  id  the  Ingitsitk 

CJune  a6,'86rP.  1 1)/'  official  organ  of  the  California  Dinsion,"  that  he  had  eent  to  each  appointed 

Kotel  9,  copy  of  the  foUoinng  letter :  "  On  the  reoonunendakion  of  -^— ,  your  hotel  has  been  ap* 

pointed  the  League  Hotel  for--^,  at  rates  as  agreed  tq>on,  viz. :  Yonare  not  expected  to  give  the 

bei^efit  id  fanrorable  rates  and  accommodations  to  wheelmen  who  are  not  members  of  the 

Leaic^ue,  and  milesa  they  are  personally  known  to  yon  as  such,  you  must  require  them  to  prove 

their  r%ht  to  daim  League  benefits,  by  producing  the  printed  membenhip  ticket,  which  every 

L.eas3>«  member  has.    GrasUmj^  equal  righit  and  privUtget  to  wfueimtn  wke  an  tui  Lsagut 

m%M»mAtrs  w3i  it  cpnsidentd  tufficitmt  amtt  /or  rttfokmg  this  appcimttmni.    This  acti<m  is 

TeaMJcred  ncccasaiy,  by  the  fact  that  there  are  wheelmen  perfectly  willing  to  avail  themselves  ol 

tbe    advantages  secured  by  our  organisation,  without,  however,  being  poascssed  of  sufficteot 

■nAiilmeas  to  join  in  its  support  and  advancement    Please  post  this  in  a  conspicuous  place  for 

yoor  own  convenience  and  our  protection."    If  any  CaUfomia  tavern-keeper  really  has  so  little 

Teapect  for  himself,  and  such  unmitigated  contempt  for  wheelmen,  as  to  consent  to  a  manifesto 

of  this  sort,  an  unusual  frigidity  and  stalenesa  may  be  assumed  to  characterise  the  cdd  victuals 

and  other  leavii^  which  he  doles  out  to  "  League  members,"  and  the  bed-rooms  to  which  he  as- 

B&Sns  them  must  be  unusually  dirty  and  ill-ventilated.    Such  a  certificate  is  useful  to  the  inlelU* 

f^ent  tourist  only  as  a  danger  signal,  like  the  yellow  flag  of  smalUpox  or  cholera,  telling  him 

dae  plaoea  to  avmd.    Its  promulgadon  in  California  seems  to  show  that  the  silly  formula  already 

noted  as  recommended  to  the  League  in  April,  '841  by  its  "  committee  on  hotel  certificate,"  has 

never  come  into  general  use. 

Whether  or  not  the  executive  officers  of  the  League  shall  repudiate  this  and  the  CaUfomia 
plan  for  my  own  straightforward  one,  the  duty  is  incumbent  upon  every  consul  and  every  tour* 
iat,  who  believes  as  I  do,  to  recommend  all  hotels  which  are  known  to  him  as  honoring  bicyders 
by  the  offer  of  their  best  accommodations,  instead  of  humiliating  them  by  Ae  infliction  of  "  re- 
duced rates."  Though  a  few  of  the  latter  sort  are  induded  in  the  following  list  of  towns  whose 
hotds  have  subscribed  for  my  book,  I  trust  that  a  pemsal  of  these  remarks  may  persuade  their 
proprietors  into  a  prompt  change  of  poKcy ;  since  it  is  my  earnest  wish  that  the  list  ahall  have 
distinctive  value  as  a  directory  to  those  hoteb  where  the  touring  wheelman  can  always  be  sure 
of  a  wckooM  to  indulgence  in  "  the  best "  : 

Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  Tift, 
Calais,  Me.,  Amtrkan, 
Caklwell,  N.  J.,  CaldwtlL 
Caldwell,  N.  Y.,  Lmke, 
Canton,  Q.^  BarmU. 
Cave   City,    Ky., 


Academy,  Pa.,  Gm,  Wayng. 
Aknm,  O.,  Summr, 
AHentown,  Pa.,  Amgriam. 
Altoona,  Pa.,^/w«. 
Annapolis,  N.  S.,  Damimiom. 
Ann  Arbor,  Midi.,  CaoJk. 
Aidmore,  Pa.,  Af^Aitotv, 
Ardmore,  Pa.,  RedLiim. 
AuguaU,  Ky.,  Tayhr. 
Aiqpusta,  Me.,  Augtata, 
Aurora,  ID.,  Emmt. 
Baltimore,  Md.,  Remtieri. 
Bardatown.,  Ky.,  Cettiwul. 
Bedford,  Pa.,  A4^9»^ 
Bois^  Oty,  Id.,  Owrlamd, . 
Boidentown,  N.  J.,  Washing- 

torn* 
Boston,  Ms.,  JtUtmaiimuU, 

Brattleboro,  Vt.,  Brptks, 
Breoklibe,  VL%,f  HtmrOtamt, 
Brownsville^  Pa.,  Bar, 
0,  N.  Y.,  Gttmm, 


Casenovia,  K.  Y.,  StatUan. 
Chambersborg,  Pa.,  NatWHoL 
Chatham,  N.  Y.,  Sianwix. 
Cheshire,  Ct,  WaUact, 
Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  Intw-Octan, 
Clearfield,  Pa.,  Ltonard, 
aearfield,  Pa.,  WbuU«r. 
Columbia,  Pa.,  Fratakim. 
Constantinople,  Turkey, 

CkamAer  0/  Comumree, 
Cbmwall-on-Hudson,  N.  Y., 

Elmtr, 
QMtvf^  Pa.,  SLjamtt, 
CurwinsviUe,  Pa.,  Dremcktr. 
Gurwinsville,  Pa.,  Park. 
Defiaace,  O.,  CrtOgf. 


Devon,  Pa.,  Devon, 
Easton,  Pa.,  UniUdStaUi, 
Elyria,  O.,  Booke. 
Garrison's,  N.  Y.,  Higkkmd, 
Gettysburg,  Pa.,  BagU, 
Glens  Falls,  N.  Y.,  Rockmett, 
Gloucester,  Mass.,  Bolmtomt.  ' 
Grand  Forks,  Dak.,  Griggt. 
Greeafiekl,  Mass.,  Atansion, 
Greenwich,  Ct.,  Lenox, 
Hagerrtown,  Md.,  BaUmm, 
Hailey,  Id.,  HaiUy, 
Hailey,  Id.,.M(r«rAM<ff'. 
Halifax,  N.  S.,  Halifax, 
Hamilton,  Ber.,  HamHtom, 
Hartford,  Ct.,  MerrilPs. 
Hawley,  Pa.,  Keystone, 
Henderson,  Ky.,  BarreU. 
HighUnd  Mills,  N.  Y.,  Higk^, 

Usnd  Mills, 
Holyoke,  Ms.,  IVaulsar, 
Howaid  Lake,Min.,  f#^»M£wr. 
Hudson,  N.  Y.,  Hearth, 


6io 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Indiana,  Pa.,  Amtrktm, 
Indaaoapolis,  Ind.,  Brntet. 
Indianapolis,  Ind.,  English, 
Jamestown,  N.  Y.,  Skemum. 
Kinderhook,N.  Y.  .KindtrlCk. 
Kingston,  Ont.,  WimU^r, 
Lake  George,  N.  Y.,  iMk*. 
Latrobe,  Pa.,  Parker. 
Lebanon,  Ky.,  Norrit. 
Lee,  Mass.,  Mfrfin. 
Lehighton,  Pa.,  Exekangt, 
Lubec,  Me.,  Cdnccok. 
Iffenden,  Ct.,  n^ntlhr^m 
Montgomery,  Ala.,  IVimUor. 
Morristown,  N.  J.,  Mamwm, 
Morristown,  N.  J.,  Park, 
Myerstown,  Pa.,  Baaey, 
Natural  Bridge,  Va.,  Fomi, 
Newark,  N.  J.,  CmtimntaL 
Kevibmg,Vl,Y.,l/mrdStaiu. 
New  London,  Ct.,  Cracker, 
New  Yoik.Carmatuvii.  Park, 
New  York,  Grami  Union, 
Niagara  Falls,  Caiaract, 
Niagara  Falb,  InUmatianai. 
Northampton,  Ms.,  Mamimi. 
Orange,  N.  J.,  hbnsion, 
Penfield,  Pa.,  Pet^/Uld, 
Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Colonnade, 


Philadelphia,  Pa.,  La/ayetle. 
Pine  Bluff,  Ark.,  Amis. 
Port  Jervis,   N.  Y.,    Claren- 

donian  and  Delaware. 
Portland,  Me.,  PrebU, 
Portland,  Or.,  HeUan, 
Portsmouth,    N.   H.,   Keear- 


Princeton,  Ms.,  WackaueU, 
Punxsutawney,  Pz.tSt.  Elmo. 
Rochester,  N.  H.,J}od;ge*s. 
Rutland,  Vt.,  BardweU. 
Sl  Oood,  Minn.,  Grand Cem- 

tral. 
St.  George's,  Ber.,  GUbe  and 

St.  Georges, 
Sandhurst,  Yvai.t  Niagara, 
Schenectady,  N.  Y.,  Carlty. 
Schuylerville,  N.  Y.,  Scks^ 

lervUle. 
Scranton,  Pa.,  Forest. 
Shepherdst*wn,  W.  Va.  ^mUer. 
SUver  Creek,  N.  Y.,  Alain  St. 
Solon,  Bae.,  Amynard, 
Somerville,  N.  J.,  Couniy. 
Springfield,  111.,  Revere. 
Stamford,  Ct.,  Stamford, 
Stamford,  Ct.,  Depot  Rest. 


Stillwater,  N.  Y.,  . 
Strasbuig,  Va.,  Ckmfybami^ 
Suffem,  N.  Y.,  Rserwka, 
Tarrytown,  N.  Y.,  ViseegM^ 
Titosvflle,  P^.,  Brmemeeick. 
Towanda,  Pa.,  WesrtL 
Trenton,  N.  J.,  Tw^nUss. 
Uniontown,   V^^McCtaBaad. 
Utica,  N.  Y.,  Bagg^s. 
VidcsbuiK,  Mis..  M^^dU^ta. 
Wanenton,  Va.,  H^^er.  Grtem, 
Washington,  J>.Q.,i^iBar^s. 
Washington,  N.  J.,  St,  Ciamd 
Waterville,  Me.,  El^ 
Waynesboro,  Pa.,  A^a 
Waynesboxg,  P^,  i 
Wdlsboro,  Pa.,  Coias. 
Weatboro,  Ms.,  Wetfha$^. 
West  Onnge,  t&  J.,  IMmd- 

fyn  Pas^, 
West  Point,  Ga.,  CimrA. 
W.  Randolph,  Vi.,RaeiUem. 
Wheeling,  W.  Va.,  I/omMc- 

Clare. 
WflKamstown,  Ms.,  iffsTiw 
Windsor,  N.  S.,  yictaria. 
Yonken,  N.  Y.,  Getty, 
Yonkeis,  N.  Y.,  Muumm. 
York,  Pa.,  l^askmgtasu 


Staunton,  Va.,  Virgitua. 
Ten  times  as  many  towns  as  are  named  above  might  well  keep  this  book  on  file  in  their  ^tiei 
hotels ;  and  the  sise  of  the  supplementary  list  of  such,  which  I  hope  to  print  in  the 
editions,  will  depend  laigely  upon  the  disposition  of  my  subscribers  to  exhibit  the 
Che  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  pieoe  ol  "  bote! 
ture,"  entirely  independent  of  its  power  to  attract  the  special  patronage  of  wheelmeii  (J/r.  Wk 
GoM.,  Aug.,  '84,  p.  52)  :  "  Its  descriptions  of  roads  will  be  of  service  to  ridei*  and  driven  of 
horses  and  wagons  as  well  as  to  bicyclers ;  the  appearance  of  the  book  will  be  qnite  as  ovb^ 
mental  as  that  of  the  '  city  directory,'  and  the  '  nulroad  and  steamboat  guides,'  wbidi  it  wiDKs 
among ;  and  the  novelty  of  its  title  will  compel  the  perusal  of  it  in  preference  to  them,  by  trav- 
elers who  are  engaged  in  killing  time.  Some  of  these,  noticing  the  book's  \kk  of  holds,  wil 
naturally  be  attracted  to  make  trial  of  one  or  another  of  those  mentioned  tbera.  Hence,  it '» 
for  the  interest  of  each  hotel  which  has  the  book  that  the  hotels  of  as  many  other  towns  as  pos- 
sible should  have  it ;  for  the  copies  thus  placed  will  be  consulted  by  a  much  larger  nomberof 
people  than  those  whidi  are  privately  held.  It  is  for  the  interest  of  each  private  owner,  wto 
may  be  tempted  to  do  any  touring,  that  the  book  should  be  thus  kept  poUidy  acoeaabia  to  Wm 
in  as  many  towns  as  possible,  in  order  that  its  information  as  to  roads,  hotels  and  duba  sfaeaU 
always  be  at  his  command,  without  the  need  of  draggmg  about  the  heavy  voliime  itself.  It  ii 
for  my  own  private  interest,  as  calculated  to  assist  the  sale  of  the  book,  that  a  very  laifs  hotel 
list  should  add  to  its  value  in  the  eyes  of  purchasen,  by  giving  them  a  knowledge  of  as  nany 
places  as  possible  to  which  baggage,  letters  and  tdegrams  may  safely  be  aent,  in  advance  ef 
their  own  arrival.  Still  further,  though  it  is  ooticeivable  that  some  tomista  nigfat  be  dsKnel 
from  purchasing  the  book  by  a  knowledge  that  they  could  consult  it '  lor  nothins '  at  evoy 
hotd  on  their  roete,  the  mere  presence  of  the  book  in  all  these  public  leaorta  oooM  Ml  fifl  » 


THE  HOTEL  QUESTION.  6ii 

secure  for  ha  gnat  naiiy  prmite  piirchasen."  Ind«cd,  as  I  do  not  inteod  making  safes  thraagli 
the  bookstores,  this  exhibition  of  it  in  the  hotel  ofioes  may  probably  be  my  chief  means  ol  catch- 
m%  tlie  eye  of  the  non-cycling  public  Those  friends  of  my  scheme,  therefore,  who  may  think 
the  book  a  creditable  representative  of  the  sport,— and  likely  to  impress  itt  respectability  upoo 
ontaiders,  if  not  also  to  make  converts  of  them,~may  manifest  their  friendlineM  most  aooepubly 
\ff  doing  missionary  work  among  the  local  inn-keepers.  That  chus  of  men  are  not  apt  to  pay 
■BQCfa  beed  to  areolars,  or  specimen  diapters,  or  written  appeals  which  come  to  them  throogh 
tile  nianls ;  but  if  a  penonal  acquaintance  actually  exhibits  the  volume,  and  explains  the  amount 
of  advertisiQg  which  its  pordiase  inddentally  ensures,  they  will  listen  to  him  civilly  and  yield  to 
Ae  force  of  his  aigument.  In  buying  this  book,  each  one  of  them  gives  a  practical  token,  how- 
ever small,  of  his  belief  that  touring  wheelmen  are  worthy  of  the  best  possible  treatment,  and 
tiwt  they  stand  quite  superior  to  the  stigma  which  would  misrepresent  them  as  candidates  for 
"  reduced  rates,  cold  victuals  and  contempt." 

**  Appieiioita*  Dictionary  of  New  York  **  (described  on  p.  loo)  devotes  severs!  pagaa  to 
daaaifying  the  innumerable  hotels  and  rcstanrsnts  of  the  city,  and  I  know  of  no  other  guide 
whicfa  can  give  the  stranger  so  much  trustworthy  information  on  the  subject.    The  30  c  which 
it  eosts  will  be  saved  to  him  in  a  single  day,  or  even  in  the  price  of  a  single  meal.     From  its  list 
oi  130  hotels,  I  select  for  mention  the  Brevoort,  as  the  one  nearest  my  own  residence,^ts  loca- 
lion  being  in  Fifth  av. ,  on  the  first  corner  above  Washiogton  Square.    Old-fashioned  elegance  and 
repose  are  its  characteristics,  and  they  render  it  a  favorite  resort  among  wealthy  viritors    espe- 
dally  the  Eng^ish-^who  like  the  solid  comforts  of  a  quiet  life.    Lodging  there  costs  a  soliury  guest 
$1.50  or  $3,  and  his  day's  expenses  in  its  restaurant  cannot  easily  be  kept  below  $4,    There  are 
not  many  better  restaurants  in  the  worid,  and  I  do  not  suppose  that  the  best  in  either  Paris  or 
London  can  present  so  extensive  a  ISiUot'-Hrt ;  but,  if  thbbe  ordered  from  with  discr^on,  two 
friends  may  dine  together  quite  sumptuously  for  $1.50  each,  or  satisfactorily  even  for  $1.    The 
secret  of  it  is  that  a  single  "  portion  "  (of  soiq>,  fish,  meat,  vegetables  or  what  not)  is  liberal 
enough  to  solBoe  for  two.    The  same  rule  hoUs  good  at  the  Delmoqico,  Bnmswidc,  Hoffman, 
*  St.  James  and  other  h%h-priced  restaurants,  where  the  solitary  diner  must  pay  for  about  twice 
as  mudi  as  he  can  consume.    Only  four  Uodcs  n.  of  Washington  Square,  is  the  Hotel  St. 
Stephen,  on  nth  St.,  and  a  few  rods  e.  of  this,  at  the  corner  of  Broadway,  is  the  St  Denis. 
Comfortable  rooms  can  be  had  at  eadi  place  for  ft  or  $1.50  a  day,  and  I  recommend  them  as 
lodgings  for  those  who  feel  oppressed  by  the  heavy  respectability  of  the  Brevoort.    Their  res- 
taurants are  rsther  gilt-edged,  as  to  style  and  prices,  but  several  other  satisfactory  ones,  of  leis 
d^anoe  and  lower  rates,  may  be  found  near  by,-~«uch  as  the  Sinclair,  on  the  comer  of  Broad- 
way and  8th  St.,  and  McManus's  oyster  and  chop  house  (open  from  noon  until  a  a.  m.),  at 
5a  University  Phne.    For  visitors  who  insist  on  patronising  "  American  plan  "  hotels,  I  can 
recommend  these  two  which  are  nearest  to  me  on  Broadway :  the  New  York,  at  No.  731  and 
the  Grand  Central,  at  Na  671.    I  believe  their  daily  rate  is  #3.50^  which  is  liable  to  be  in- 
creased when  specially  fine  rooms  are  ordered ;  and  the  same  aaay  be  said  of  the  Metropoli- 
tan, at  $84  Broadway.    I  mention  the  latter  for  the  sake  of  recommending  its  taUt  tP/Me  dinner 
0  or  9  courses,  with  a  bottle  of  wine),  which  is  served  for  $1,  from  5  to  8  l>.  m.    Similar  dinners 
may  be  had  at  those  hours,  for  75  c,  at  the  St.  George  (Na  895,  just  above  lath  st.),  and  the 
Hungaria  (s.  e.  corner  of  Union  Square,  just  above  14th  St.).    The  Hungaria  serves  an  excellent 
hmcfa  (soup,  meat,  vegeUUcs  and  dessert)  for  35  c,  from  la  to  a  p.  m.,  except  on  Sundays, 
wim  its  dinner  hour  begins  at  1  instead  of  5.    Dinner  from  1  to  9  p.  m.  may  be  had  on  every 
dsy  ill  the  week,  for  65  c,  at  Colombo's,  51  Third  av. ;  also  from  11  a.  m.  to  8  p.  m.  (except 
Soadays),  at  Delisle's,  in  the  basement  of  9a  Fuhon  st.,->-the  price  bdng  50  c  for  8  courses,  or 
^as  c  for  4  oourms  which  constitute  "  lunch.''    Wine  or  beer  costs  extra  at  each  of  the  three 
pboes  last  naaaed,  bot  is  tndnded  in  the  50  c.  rate  charged  for  iaAle  tPfMe  at  the  Plevano,  136 
Third  av. ;  at  Theodore'a,  47  E.  soth  st. ;  at  Jaequin's,  107  W.  asth  st. ;  at  400  Sixth  av.,  just 
above  a4th  st. ;  at  5  W.  t4th  st ;  at  133  Third  av. ;  at  loth  st.  corner  of  Third  av.,  and  at  severs! 
French  restawaats  in  Bleecker  st.  region  w.  of  Broadway.    This  dinner  may  be  had  from  i  to 
8  p.  M.  en  Sundays,  bot  bagiBsat  s  on  other  days,  when  a  kroch  iA  served  from  is  to  a,  at  35  c 


6i4  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Perth,  Ont,  Hick's,  337 ;  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Bingham,  173,  373 ;  Pittsboig,  Pa.,  1 
496;  Pompton,  N.  J.,  Norton's,  165,  170;  Pond  Eddy,  N.  Y.,  Deleware,  304;  Portage.  N.  Y^ 
Cascade,  ^^^ ;  Port  Clinton,  Pa.,  Center,  34a;  Port  Elgin,  Ont.,  Half  Way,  315 ;  Port  Jervi^ 
N.  Y.,  Delaware,  298,  340;  Port  Richmond,  S.  I.,  Bull's  Head,  156,  ContioenUl,  156;  FbA 
Stanley,  Ont.,  Fraser,  331;  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  Rockingham,  101;  Preacott,  Ont.,  Revcnw 
396,  317;  Princeton,  N.  J.,  Nassau,  377;  Providence,  R.  I.,  Doiranoe,  108,  109;  Putney,  Tl« 
Kendrick's,  183;  Quincy,  Ms.,  Robertson,  109;  Rah  way,  N.  J.,  Farmers'  and  Me^aaic^, 
167,  Sheridan,  167;  Reading,  Pa.,  Keystone,  343,  Temple  House,  387;  Richmond,  Ont^ 
Reilly's,  337;  Riverhead,  L.  I.,  Griffin,  154;  Riyiire  du  Loup,  Que.,  La  Rocbelle,  329;  Rob- 
binston,  Me.,  Brewer,  361, 265,  366;  Rome,  N.  Y.,  Stanwix,  301 ;  St.  Anne's,  Que.,  ClareadaB« 
328;  Salem,  Ms.,  Essex,  101}  Salem,  Va.,  Roanoke,  348;  Salisbury,  Ct,  Maple  Shade,  147; 
Sandy  Creek,  N.  Y.,  Sandy  Cieek,  335 ;  San  Jose,  Cal.,  St.  James,  493 ;  Saratoga,  N.  Y..  Co^ 
gress  Hall,  313,  Knickerbocker,  313,  331 ;  Savin  Rock,  Ct.,  Beach,  403 ;  Sdiooley**  Mtn.,  N. 
J.,  Belmont,  173;  Seymour,  Ct.,  Wilbur,  141;  Sharon,  Ms.,  Cobb's,  106,  109;  ShippensbaiE. 
Pa.,  SKerman,  344;  Simcoe,  Ont.,  Battersby,  333;  Smith's  Creek,  CaL,  Junction,  490;  Smiths 
Falls,  Ont.,  Butler's,  337;  Somerset,  Ber.,  Somerset,  361 ;  Somenrille,  N.  J.,  Moore's  Coan^, 
173;  Spencer,  Ms.,  Massasoit,  no,  114;  Staunton,  Va.,  Virginia,  300,  346;  Stillwater,  N.  Y.« 
Center,  193,  Ensign,  193 ;  Strasburg,  Va.,  Chalybeate  Springs,  345,  348,  383 ;  Stratford,  OaL, 
Windsor,  317;  Stroudsburg,  Pa.,  Burnett,  341 ;  Susquehanna,  Pa.,  Stanicca,  338,  339;  Suffer^ 
N.  Y.,  Eureka,  171 ;  Tamaqua,  Pa.,  United  States,  399 ;  Tarrytown,  N.  Y.,  Vincent,  75,  76,  77, 
194,  281 ;  Thompson,  Pa.,  Jefferson,  339 ;  Toronto,  Ont.,  Rossin,  317 ;  Tracadie,  N.  S.,  Loca% 
391 ;  Trenton  Falls,  N.  Y.,  Moore's,  aoo;  Tuscarora,  N.  Y.,  Tuscarora,  214;  Utica,  N.  Y^ 
American,  30I,  Bagg's,  301,  309,  210,  220;  Warrenton,  Va.,  Warren  Green,  374;  Washiiw- 
ton,  D.  C,  National,  497,  St.  Marc,  374,  Wormley's,  341 ;  Washington,  N.  J.,  St.  Oood,  173; 
Watertown,  N.  Y.,  Woodruff,  334;  Waynesboro,  Pa.,  National,  38$;  Whitehall,  N.  Y.,  Open 
House,  184;  White  Sulphur  Springs,  Va.,  382  ;  Wilkesbarre,  Pa.,  Wyoming  Valley,  aao;  WiO- 
iamq;>ort,  Md.,  Taylor,  339;  Williamstown,  Ky.,  Campbell,  32s,  Sherman,  325;  WilmotCoik 
ners,  N.  Y.,  Wibnot,  210;  Winchester,  Va.,  Taylor's,  344;  Windsor,  N.  S.,  Victoria,  386% 
Windsor,  Ont.,  Crawford,  396;  Woodstock,  Va.,  Shenandoah,  383,  Strickler,  346;  YoDken,N. 
Y.,  Getty,  53,  77,  79,  Peabody,  19S;  York,  Pa.,  National,  386;  Yosemite  (Val.),  Cal.,  491. 

I  wish  it  were  possible  for  me  to  compel  every  landlord  in  America  to  read  and  reflect  npoB 
the  "  reasons  for  the  stagnation  of  country  hotel-keeping,"  as  given  in  the  Nation  (Sept  », 
'84,  p.  317),  to  explain  the  general  losses  in  the  summer-resort  business  of  that  year  :  "  IntdS- 
gent  people  look  to  the  quality  rather  than  the  quantity  of  what  is  annoimced  upon  a  biU  of  fare. 
They  want  well-prepared  food  of  the  simpler  kinds,  instead  of  an  endless  variety  of  inlerior 
cooking,  and  dabs  of  vegetables  everlastingly  terved  in  small  bird  dishes.  They  want  oompkle 
quiet  and  darkness  at  night,  instead  of  rattling  hallways  heated  up  to  the  furnace  pitch  by  (lav- 
ing gas-jets.  They  want  bed-rooms  without  glass  transoms  which  let  in  the  light  and  noisa 
from  the  halls,  and  without  thin  and  ill-fitted  doors  which  connect  with  adjoining  rooms  aad 
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  oonvenience  for 
bathing  in  it.  Many  a  man  is  reconciled  to  a  summer  in  town  by  the  possession  of  a  bath  in  bis 
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  c 
able  distance  from  his  room,  and  which  can  only  be  had  at  certain  times  and  by  previous  e 
ment.  Such  a  sim^U  thing  eu  the  provition  of  a  tub  and  a  ^il  0/  water  in  his  room  at  m 
smaU  extra  charge,  is^obabiy  unhnown  throughout  the  cou$Ury  ;  we  certainly  never  h^udol 
it  or  met  with  it,  and  yet  what  a  luxury  it  wouki  be.  How  many  hotel-keepers  are  there  t» 
whom  one  could  mention  it  without  having  him  shake  his  head  over  it  as  visionary  or  impradih 
cable  ?  "  I  quote  this  for  the  sake  of  saying  that  every  landlord  who  owns  a  bath-room  daodd 
make  a  tender  of  it  to  the  touring  bicycler  as  soon  as  he  arrives ;  and  that  aU  hotels  which  fnD 
agree  to  supply  every  such  tourist  with  a  portable  bathtub  in  his  own  bed-room  deserve  to  havs 
their  names  freely  advertised  in  the  League's  various  road-books  and  in  its  weekly  Bwdktin. 


XXXVI. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.' 

"  We  may  not  care  to  fight ;  but,  by  Jingo !  ^we  do, 
We  *ve  got  the  Totes  I  We  *vt  got  the  men  t  We  've  got  the  money,  too !  " 

The  Great  American  Hog  (Forcus  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- 
verse 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 
horses  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  drags 
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  jz, 
i8So,  Its  natal  day.  The  initiative  must  be  accredited  to  Kirk  Munroe  (at  that  time  editor  of  Har- 
per^s  Young  People  and  President  of  the  New  York  Bicycle  Qnb),  who  arranged  that  the  other 
clubs  should  join  with  his  own  in  making  a  public  display  of  their  wheelmanship,  and  who  in- 
vited the  unattached  also  to  take  part  in  the  pageant.  Two  dozen  of  them  did  in  fact  help  sus- 
tain this  "  first  annual  parade  of  the  League,'*  when  the  whole  number  of  bicycles  in  line  was 
133.  The  editor  of  the  Bi.  World,  who  was  also  the  President  of  the  Boston  Bicycle  Club  (Chas.  'V 
E.  Pratt,  whose  biog.  may  be  found  on  p.  503),  in  alluding  to  the  assured  success  of  the  New 
Yorkers'  scheme  for  a  May  meet  at  Newport,  suggested  {B.  H^.,  March  so,  '80,  p.  150)  that 
the  gathering  "  would  offer  a  suitable  occasion  for  organising  a  wheelmen's  protective  league, 
which  should  combine  the  best  points  of  the  '  B.  U.'  and  *  B.  T.  C  in  England  " ;  and,  by  the 


1  Revised  Oct.  30,'86,  from  sketch  written  in  April  for  "  Wheelmen's  Reference  Book,"  pp. 
^Bii  (Hartford,  Ct. :  Ducker  &  Goodman ;  aoopp. ;  49  lith.  portraits;  price  $0  c  and  $1). 


6i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

time  the  delegates  actually  aaaembled,  the  idea  had  fained  nidi  aooepCanoe  amoag  them  &tt 
they  readily  adopted  the  brief  constitution  which  he  had  formulated,  and  elected  him  aa  the 
first  President  under  it.  About  four  months  later,  Sept.  i8,  at  New  York,  the  board  of  ofioen 
held  a  seven  hours'  session  to  perfect  their  oiiganitation,  by  the  adoption  of  rules  and  by-laaa 
(printed  in  BL  Worlds  Oct.  a),  and  by  the  appointment  of  directors  to  fill  vacancies  in  the  fisi 
originally  chosen  at  Newport.  The  membership,  meanwhile,  had  increased  to  527;  and  a  sil> 
ver  badge  was  adopted  "  representing  the  continent  of  North  America  encircled  by  a  whcd 
surmounted  by  a  handle-bar."  The  words,  "  League  of  American  Wfieelmes,"  in  capitd 
letters,  formed  a  circular  label  directly  around  "  the  Continent " ;  but  this  lociked  so  modi 
like  a  ham  that  the  badge  soon  came  to  be  spoken  of  as  the  "  ham  and  cart-wheel,"  or  "  sogir- 
cured  medal."  The  first  hand-book  exhilnted  upon  its  cover  and  title-page  a  picture  of  this 
ill-fated  disc,  which  was  nearly  as  large  and  clumsy  as  a  nlver  dollar,  "  though  the  orig;inal  idea 
was  to  have  it  much  larger,  and  vrith  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  BL  World  (J»n-  aS,  '81,  p. 
188),  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  %i  for  silver-plated  and  %i  for  nidcel-plated  speci- 
mens. Only  a  few  months  later  (at  the  officers'  meeting  of  Oct.  6,  '81,  when  the  League's 
meroberdiip  was  reported  as  1103,  an  increase  of  449  from  May  30),  this  "  continental  ham  ** 
was  formally  superseded  by  the  more  artistic  and  less  obtrusive  emblem  which  1^  since  cod- 
tinued  in  vogue,  without  serious  criticism  or  suggestion  of  improvement.  The  design  b  a  tiny 
suspension  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  predoos  stone  that 
may  be  preferred.  The  inventor  and  manufacturer  of  the  badge  is  C  H.  Lamson,  a  ptactical 
jeweler  of  Portland,  one  of  the  pioneer  whedmea  of  Maine  and  for  some  time  C3iief  Consul  fer 
that  Sute.    Hie  "  C.  T.  C,"  of  England,  adopted  a  dose  copy  of  it,  in  Sept,  '86. 

Jl\  the  second  annual  meeting  of  the  League  (Boston,  May  30,  '81),  all  of  the  original  officers 
~^  who  consented  to  serve  again  were  re-elected ;  and  such  little  opposition  as  appeared  was  quile 
— i-  good-natured.  A  salary  was  attached  to  the  office  of  Corresponding  SecreUry.  The  reported 
membenhip  was  1654,  and  the  Bi.  WorUP*  list  of  61  dubs  which  appeared  in  the  parade 
accredited  them  with  597  men,  besides  137  from  the  unattached.  This  corresponds  with  the 
count  which  I  myself  made,  two  or  three  times,  of  "  about  750  "  m  the  procession,  though  the 
daily  papers  pretended  to  find  a  much  larger  number  there.  The  Star  bicyde  introduced  itadf 
to  the  public  on  this  occasion,  and  the  few  tricydes  which  appeared  were  looked  upon  as  novel, 
ties.  The  police  arrangements  were  entirely  inadequate  for  keeping  the  streeu  dear,  but  no 
deaths  or  serious  disasters  resulted  from  the  numerous  falls  caused  by  the  dosing  in  of  the 
crowd.  "  The  grand  organ  pealed  forth  a  stirring  march,  as  the  Ucyders  entered  Mosac  HaB^ 
to  take  seats  at  the  tables ;  "  and,  later,  towards  the  dose  of  the  repast,  when  the  after^linner 
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-driU  and 
fancy-riding,  that  speaking  was  rendered  unpleasant  and  hearing  impossible."  Some  racing 
had  been  indulged  in  at  Beacon  Paris,  Maya8,  chiefly  by  League  members;  but  "the  first 
regdar  annual  races  of  the  League  "  were  run  at  the  Polo  Grounds,  New  York,  Oct.  6  (a  few 
hours  before  the  officers'  quarteriy  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  30  wheehnen  took  part  in  the  "  giand 
parade  "  and  only  about  aoo  other  spectators  attended  the  races.  Chicago  was  the  scene  of  the 
7^*^  third  annual  meet  (May  30,  '8a),  when  the  editor  of  the  BL  World  recorded  that  "  there  wers 
'  -^  only  394  men  in  the  procession,  by  actual  count,"  while  he  praised  the  pdice  arrangemenu  far 
protecting  these,  as  offering  a  shining  contrast  to  their  ineffidency  at  Boston.  A  few  lacet 
served  as  a  side-show  on  the  previous  afternoon,  and  the  election  of  officers  ^-as  not  oompkced 
until  late  at  night,  after  the  banquet  Considerable  ill-feeling  was  developed  by  a  dispute  about 
proxy  votes,  as  affecting  two  new  candidates  for  President,— >he  original  incumbent  haviig  for- 
mally declined,  some  weeks  before,  to  sund  for  re-election.    The  candidate  of  the  Boston  &  C 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      6 1 7 

^mg^m  daieated  by  a  vote  ol  307  to  156;  vbA  h«  had  been  defeated  a  year  earlier,  %%^  to  196,  when 
anmaiBg  far  tlie  offiee  ol  "OmiiMndrr,"  though  iavored  on  that  occaaioD  by  the  majority  rtport 
«Mf  the  noaanatfaig  cnmmitHfr.  Thia  last>named  office  waa  aboliahed  by  the  convention  of  '8a, 
and  the  original  plan  of  "  two  dsrectora  for  each  State,  elected  at  the  annual  meeting*"  waa 
aopcneded  by  the  preaent  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 
einji.  printed  in  the.  BL  Wmrld  of  June  x6.  The  aoceesions  of  new  members  during  this  second 
year  amounted  to  979  (of  whom  aa8  were  unattached,  and  751  represented  45  clubs) ;  and  th^ 
total  membenhip  waa  vaguely  alluded  to  as  "  about  asbow"  This  was  probably  an  overestimate, 
for  the  1135  acoeaeionsof  the  next  year  (737  admitted  as  dub  members  at  50  c  each,  and  the 
vest  at  %\  eadi,  though  only  aas  of  the  latter  were  unattached)  brought  the  total  then  to  3x31, 
representing  17a  dubs.  Such  was  the  official  report  at  the  fourth  annual  meet  (New  York, 
May  aS,  '83),  vrtten  the  BL  WorUP$  editor  again  "  made  an  accurate  count  of  the  riders  actually 
in  the  parade  and  found  it  to  be  733,  of  whom  91  were  unattached."  The  orderly  movement  of 
these  whedmen  through  Central  Park,  by  special  permission,  gave  the  rulers  of  it  an  excuse  for 
taldiig  the  first  steps,  a  week  later,  to  relax  their  previous  prohibitory  policy ;  in  the  same  way 
that  the  parade  of  '8a  resulted  in  the  removal  of  all  discriminationa  against  the  use  of  the  park 
roada  by  the  cyclers  of  Chicaga    The  evening's  banquet  was  the  best  in  the  scries  of  seven. 

At  the  end  of  its  third  year,  two4hirdk  of  the  League'a  members  (1413  out  of  313 1)  belonged 
to  these  five  ac^Joinii^t  States,  Mass.,  N.  Y.,  Pa.,  O.,  and  Ct,  and  the  geographical  distribution 
of  the  whole  list  was  aa  follows:  Me.,  30;  N.  H.,  59;  Vt,  13;  Mass.,  518;  R.  I.,  31 ;  Ct., 
101;  N.  Y.,360;  N.  J.,  74;  P«.,  a'8;  I)eL,3;  Md.,  58;  D.  C,  7;  W.  Va.,  i ;  (Va.);  N. 
C,  5;  S.  C,  8;  (Ga.,  Fla.,  Ala.,  Mias.);  La.,  i;  (Tex.,  Ark.);  Tenn.,  i;  Ky.,  39;  O.,  316; 
Mich.,  43  ;  Ind.,  3  ;  111.,  95 ;  Mo.,  55 ;  la.,  4 ;  Wis.,  55 ;  Minn.,  6  ;  (Dak.) ;  Neb.,  13  ;  (Kan., 
Ind.  Ter.,  N.  Mex.);  Col.,  a;  Wy.,  10;  Mon.,  5;  (Id.,  Wash.,  Or.,  Uuh,  Nev.);  Ariz.,  i ; 
Cal.,  16;  Ontario,  33;  Quebec,  43*  Nova  Scotia,  4t  England,  11 ;  Belgium,  i ;  Germany,  i. 
(The  parenthesis  designates  16  States  and  Territories  not  then  represented  in  the  League.)  The 
President  and  Vice-President  both  declined  re-elections,  but  the  fonner  finally  conaented  to  take 
the  vice-presidency.  The  votes  were  cast  by  the  offidal  board,  instead  of  by  the  members  at 
laige,  aa  on  the  three  previous  elections,  and  there  were  no  rival  candidates  or  disputed  opinions 
of  any  sort;  but  the  Corresponding  Secretary  was  afterwarda  suspended  (Feb.  8,  '84),  and  hia 
duties  were  tranaferred  to  the  Treaaurer  for  the  rest  of  the  official  year,  because  of  a  protest 
laised  against  him  by  the  Springfidd  B.  C,  on  account  of  a  letter  which  he  had  printed  {BL 
H^arld^  Dec  ai,  '83,  p.  76),  reflecting  on  the  honesty  of  that  club.  At  the  officers'  meeting  of 
Feb.  %tt  the  membership  committee  auatained  the  protest  and  expelled  him  from  the  League ; 
hut  the  verdict  did  not  meet  with  general  approval,  and  he  was  ultimately  re-admitted  as  a  mem- 
ber. The  report  of  his  offidal  term  showed  that  3351  new  members  had  joined  during  the  eight 
Diontha,and  that  1347  of  the  3131  who  were  on  the  roll  in  May  had  continued  their  membership 
(844  dropping  out),  making  a  total  of  3598.  A  few  months  later,  on  the  occasion  of  the  fifth 
annual  meet  (Waahington,  May  19,  '84),  the  total  membership  waa  announced  as  4350 ;  and  the 
BL  f^aridniiOtUr  "counted  just  600  in  the  parade,  including  7a  of  the  unattached  and  a  dozen 
tricyden."  Hia  count  at  the  aixth  parade  (Buffalo,  July  3,  '85)  waa  605,  though  this  was  Uken 
after  30  had  dropped  out  of  line.  The  official  reports  showed  the  accessions  of  new  members  as 
a74a,  aad  the  treasury  balance  aa  $998.  All  the  old  board  of  officers  who  conaented  to  serve 
were  harmonioudy  re-elected,  as  had  been  the  case  a  year  earlier,  when  trouble  and  dissension 
were  piedicted,  and  as  was  the  case  a  year  later  (Boston,  May  38,  '86X  Just  before  this  seventh 
election,  I  wrote  for  the  fVAgtimenU  Gaaettt  a  four-4»lumn  protest  (May  5,  pp.  33-34)  against 
"rotating"  the  League  presidency,— repeating  there  the  argument  of  my  short  articles  of  '83 
aad  '83,  that  executive  officers  ought  to  be  kept  in  service  as  long  as  possible.  Assuming  that 
the  President  wouU  not  ccmaent  to  sUnd  for  another  re-dection,  I  expressed  regret  that  the 
influentia]  duba  had  not  taken  formal  action  to  ensure  such  consent ;  and  I  expressed  the  hope 
tiutt  hia  unknown  successor  would  be  retained  for  many  terras  and  be  freed  from  all  fear  of 
'**  roution."   As  the  President  did  in  fact  accept  a  fourth  term,  and  as  he  is  not  an  aoquainUnoe 


6i8  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

of  mine,  I  cannot  be  accused  of  any  personal  motbo  in  now  applytns  to  him  the  ■ame  hopau 
My  Gaaetit  ankle  shows  why  the  number  of  really  desirable  men  who  can  aifibid  to  takse  fks 
presidency  must  always  be  small ;  and  I  wbh  its  facts  and  logic  might  be  coosaderad  by  sock 
writers  as  are  accustomed  to  print  gossip  about  possible  "  candidates  "  for  the  place,  in  advaMS 
of  the  appearance  of  any  signs  of  dissatisfaction  with  the  holder  of  it.  Space  forbids  way  i|ial^ 
bg  mon  than  the  following  :  "  I  believe  that  no  charge  of  incompetency  or  neglect  of  duty  fans 
yet  been  raised  agamst  any  executive  oflteer ;  and  I  think  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  ibe  Iqgh 
average  of  personal  and  official  character  in  the  men  chosen,  and  the  absence  of  n  spirit  of 
political  scheming  for  '  rotating  *  them  out  of  office,  have  both  helped  greatly  to  bnUd  op  the 
reputation  of  the  League.  It  will  be  a  bad  thing  for  it  if  prevalence  is  ever  given  to  '  Hal*h ' 
idea,  that  the  offices  are  a  sort  of  baubles,  which  ought  to  be  portioned  oat  geographically  for  the 
soothing  of  sectional  pride,  as  playthings  are  divided  equally  among  children." 

The  seventh  annual  parade,  according  to  detailed  statement  in  BuUttm  (June  4,  '86,  p.  51 1)^ 
attracted  824  riders,  of  whom  hardly  half  belonged  outside  Mass. ,  and  only  soo  outside  New  Eng.; 
but  by  other  accounts  the  number  really  riding  was  considerably  smaller  (C/#6f'«  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  5176  Of  the  latter,  a  very  large  paopo^ 
tion  (4379)  paid  their  renewal  fees ;  hence,  the  new  members  irf  the  five  montha  nnabered 
4084,— the  largest  weel:1y  accession  being  3x8,  for  the  week  ending  May  15.  Daring  the  sam> 
mer,  1313  new  men  joined,  so  that  on  Sept.  1  the  Secretary  was  able  to  report  a  total  of  9676,~ 
ttiore  tlum  three-fourths  of  whom  (7315)  were  accredited  to  these  7  states :  N.  Y.,  Mass.,  Pa., 
N.  J.,  O.,  Ct.  and  III.,  named  in  the  order  of  their  membership.  The  geographical  distribotioa 
of  the  entire  9676,  and  of  the  5176  who  formed  the  League's  membership  just  8  months  earlier, 
are  shown  by  the  following  pairs  of  numerals :  Me.,  199,  63;  N.  H.,  143,  83 ;  Vt.,  loo,  58; 
Mass.,  1418,  591 ;  R.  L,  133,  30;  Ct.,  571,  355 ;  N.  Y.,  1655,  ios8;  N.  J.,  918,  493 ;  I^.  i4««. 
839;  Del.,  24,  4;  Md.,  199,  88;  D.  C,  59,  49;  W.  Va.,  46,  ai;  Va.,  54,  5;  N.  C,  11,9;  & 
C,  I,  3 ;  Ga.,  27,  z ;  Fla.,  9,  o;  Ala.,  13,  i ;  Miss.,  3,  o{  La.,  59,  26;  Tex.,  14,  3 ;  Aik.,  4, 
o;  Tenn.,  67,  6;  Ky.,  79,  42  ;  O.,  809,  582  ;  Mich.,  218,  77;  Ind.,  185,  75 ;  111.,  433,  aSj  ;  Mo., 
S36,  94;  la.,  no,  67;  Wis.,  30,  17;  Minn.,  105,67;  Dak.,  8,4;  Neb.,  67,  15;  Kan.,  70,  7; 
Ind.  Ter.,  o ;  N.  Mex.,  o,  i ;  Col.,  46,  28  ;  Wy.,  49,  33 ;  Mon.,  3,  s  ;  Id.,  ao,  o;  Wash.,  o;  Or., 
3,0;  Utah,  xo,  6;  Nev.,  o;  Ariz.,  o;  Cal.,  148,  13;  Ontario,  7,  5;  Nova  Scotia,  4,  a;  Ber- 
muda, I,  o;  England,  2,  o;  Germany,  i,  i.  This  shows  only  5  States  and  Territories  having 
no  League  members,  as  compared  urith  16  unrepresented  three  years  eariier,  when  the  total  was 
ai3i.  My  statistics  are  from  tables  in  the  BuUetin  of  June  tr  and  Sept.  17,  '86,  pp.  S33>  S97* 
and  the  editor  thereof  took  a  natural  pride  in  proclaiming,  Oct  29,  that  the  membetdnp  had 
"  grown  to  five  figures  *'  (10,175),  ^^  tbe  B^etht*s  regular  edition  to  xo,85a 

The  record  of  the  first  convention  shows  that,  "  on  motion  of  Mr.  Longstreth,  of  Philadel- 
phia, it  was  unanimously  voted  that  the  Bi.  World  be  made  the  official  organ  of  thn  Lea^gne." 
This  was  then  the  only  American  cycling  journal,  having  but  lately  begun  as  a  fortnightly,  Nov. 
rs.  '79>  i^t  $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,  '8z,  and  to  $1,  on  June  4,  *86.  The  conven- 
tions of  '81  and  *82  perfunctorily  repeated  the  unanimous  vote  of  '80,  retaining  the  paper  » 
"  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  inoome  very 
considerably,"  in  proof  of  his  enthusiasm  for  advancing  the  interests  of  bicycling.  The  thise 
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  vahie  than  thai 
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  naake  any  defiaals 
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  serions 
objection  was  ever  urged  against  the  B,  W,  for  feulure  to  fulfill  all  the  functions  of  an  "  omaa.** 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN,      619 

BiMDwfail«,  the  U^k^gi^  a  tmncr  andchMper  paptr,  had  beconeestabUahcd  at  New  York, 
bcBuuuQg  a  weekly  ieme  at  tt-Vh  "  «•  the  oficial  ofgan  ol  the  (English)  B.  T.  C.  ia  America,'* 
OcC  4»  *8s,— alter  two  yeais*  existence  as  a  ti  fortnightly  (Sept.  as,  '80,  to  Sept.  13,  '8s ;  ex- 
cept that  itt price  was  $x,%s  until  July  6,  '81,  and  its  "  oiganship  "  began  June  7,  '8a).  The  pab> 
liaheis  of  this  cane  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  recognised  as  the  c»flkial  oigan, 
and  provided  the  payments  were  made  monthly  by  the  League's  Treasurer.  This  scheme  was 
adopted  by  a  vote  of  368  to  ate,  its  most  active  advocate  being  the  first  President  of  the  League 
and  first  editor  of  the  Bi,  IVorld^  whose  name  had  been  printed  as  "  editorial  contributor  "  to 
the  first  31  weekly  issues  of  the  lf'Aw/,--ending  May  4,  '83.  The  Corresponding  Secretary, 
who  was  chosen  by  the  same  convention  which  adopted  the  IVkMl  as  oigan,  had  been  editor  of 
it  from  the  start,  and  was  one  of  the  firm  which  published  it.  No  censure  was  ever  pronounced 
ttpoo  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 
lalaed  against  him  by  thoae  who  professed  to  think  that  his  contract  with  the  Ijcague,  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.  Cs 
protest  against  the  haish  language  he  bad  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.  as,  '84),  a  committee  was  appointed  to  *'  obtain  proposals  and  estimates 
frmn  such  parties  as  might  offer  to  provide  a  League  oigan  at  a  cost  not  exceeding  as  c.  a  year 
for  each  member,"  and  also  to  "  consider  the  advisability  of  the  League  conducting  its  own 
organ,"  after  the  expiration  of  the  contract  with  the  lVke*L 

The  committee  reported  (Washington,  May  19)  against  the  League's  attempting  to  publish 
its  own  paper,  because,  as  it  would  not  be  transmissible  at  second-dass  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"  forbade 
the  indulgence  in  any  such  scheme.  They  also  reported  (1)  that  the  iVktti  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  aoc.  a  year  (or  10  c.  to  those  whose  membership  began  after  Dec.  i>;  (3)  that  the 
BL  IVorid  offered  to  give  the  League  4  PP>  in  the  first  weekly  issue  of  each  month,  and  mail 
those  IS  issues  to  each  League  member,  also  to  print  the  names  of  applicants  every  week  and 
ouul  to  each  one  the  paper  conuining  his  name,— the  League  pajring  a  c.  for  each  paper  thus 
supplied ;  (3)  that  the  S^ingfUid  WhulmtnU  Gaa^U^  just  then  re-established  as  a  monthly, 
offered  to  "  give  the  League  all  the  space  needed  for  its  ofiicial  business,"  and  to  mail  a  copy  to 
every  member  during  the  term  of  contract,— the  League  to  make  monthly  payments  of  a  c  f or 
each  paper  thus  mailed ;  and  (4)  that  the  Amateur  AUikU  offered  to  mail  a  weekly  supplement 
to  each  League  member  at  five-thirteenths  of  a  cent  a  copy  (ao  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  (ite  regular  rate  to  non-members  being  #a),  and  give  all  needed 
space  ix  League  announcements.  Behind  each  one  of  these  four  journals'  proposals  was  the 
understanding  that  the  League's  Corresponding  Secretery  or  other  ofiicial  repreaeautive  should 
prepare  and  edit  for  the  printer  all  the  League  material,~-the  editors  of  the  several  papers  havrag 
DO  req)onsibiIity  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  E.  M.  Aaron,  both  of 
Philadelphia)  to  the  effect  that  the  League  should  thenceforth  issue  its  own  organ, — the  Reoord- 
vo%  Secretary  serving  as  editor,  without  pay,  and  the  other  four  executive  officers  forming  with 
him  a  board  of  publication. 

This  plan,  which  seems  to  have  nmtemplated  a  monthly  issue,  was  quickly  wrecked  on  the 
rock  of  which  the  committee  had  given  warning  :  the  postal  law  which  refuses  to  register  such 
a  sheet  for  cheap  transmission  as  *'  second-chus  mail-matter."  The  Executive  Board  being  thus 
forced  to  continue  the  "  mgan  "  as  a  fixture  to  some  existing  journal  having  this  privilege  of 


620  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

registry,  accepted  the  fint-moned  offer  of  the  AmtOntt  Atkhit,  and  iec«i»cJ  nnKfahottie 
criticism  in  consequence.  My  opinion  is  that  most  rodpieata  of  the  badly'priDted  8  pL  Aeei 
which  came  to  them  each  week,  in  oonsequence  of  this  contract,  felt  abaost  afiootcd  wbeacm 
reminded  by  its  staring  sub-title  that  it  was  really  ''  the  offidal  gasette  of  the  League."  The 
acceptance  of  either  one  of  the  other  three  offers  would  haiFe  insured  an  "  «ig;an  "  of  far  aape- 
rior  typographic  appearance ;  and  I  think  they  deaerred  acceptance  in  the  order  named,  la 
either  case,  the  monthly  reception  by  each  League  member  of  an  interesting  newspaper,  endos- 
ing  his  official  gasette,  must  have  been  far  more  satisfactory  than  the  wedkly  arrival  of  this 
blotchy  collection  of  black-letter  advertisements,  whidi  was  habitually  buried  unopened  iMo 
the  waste-basket  by  many  disgusted  recipients.  The  utmost  efforts  of  the  hardwofldng  "  pro- 
fessional "  editor  in  Philadelphia  were  unable  to  make  the  sheet  rise  superior  to  the  tnauadk 
imposed  by  iu  "  amateur  "  printing  contractors  in  New  York.  I  do  not  say  that  any  particalar 
blame  attached  to  them,  for  they  offered  a  cheap  job  and  probably  lost  money  on  it.  The  mis. 
take  was  rather  in  the  Executive  Board's  assuming  that  their  "  quarter-dollar  allowance  "  smed 
a  chance  of  giving  a  better  return  from  investment  in  a  wildcat  weekly  experiment  than  firom  the 
monthly  patronage  of  a  well-printed  journal,  whose  established  character  gave  asamancc  of  a  re- 
spectable result.  Whatever  error  of  judgment  was  committed,  however,  was  pud  for  most 
heavily  by  those  who  were  chiefly  responsible  for  it ;  and  I  presume  that  no  one  else  in  the  Lo^iie 
"  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  credkafak 
paper.  With  the  long-hoped-for  "  expiration  of  the  amateur  printing  contract,'*  a  diaaoe  was 
given  him  to  gratify  his  ideal  by  an  order  from  the  Resident  that  he  issue  a  ^iccimea  copy  of 
what  such  a  gazette  ought  to  be. 

Hence  originated  the  first  number  of  "  the  L.  A,  W,  BttUeUM^  a  journal  devoted  lo  the 
interests  of  cycling  in  America ;  published  weekly  at  $\  a  year,  or  3  c  a  copy,  by  Eugene  M. 
Aaron,  for  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen,  at  the  L.  A.  W. 
office,  506  Walnut  St.,  Philadelphia;  printed  by  E.  Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,  321  Chestnut  St., sod 
entered  at  the  post  office  as  second-class  matter."  The  convention  at  Buffalo  adopted  this  oe 
the  day  of  its  date  Quly  a,  '85),  and  it  has  appeared  every  week  since  then,— the  first  9  ismes 
dated  Thursday,  the  later  ones  Friday,~in  spite  of  the  fears  expressed  by  many  well-wishcn  of 
the  scheme  that  the  League  could  not  afford  to  supply  its  members  with  so  handsome  and  es> 
pennve  a  print.  A  title-page  and  index  to  the  416  pp.  of  the  ist  vol.  accompanied  the  26th 
number  <Dec  25,  '8$) ;  and  the  report  of  the  Secretary-Editor  to  the  officers'  meeting  of  tim 
months  later  seemed  to  show  that  the  jonmal  was  in  a  fair  way  of  reaching  a  permanent  finn- 
dal  basis  of  self-support  Its  ad  vol.  (Jan.  i,  to  June  a5,'86)  had  6s4  pp.  and  was  indexed  even 
more  thoroughly  than  the  first  Tabular  statements  of  the  recdpts  and  expenses  for  14  nos. 
were  printed  June  it  and  Sept.  17  (pp.  534,  sig),  in  the  reports  of  the  officers'  meetings,  and 
showed  an  actual  profit  for  2  mos. :  ^37  in  Aug.,  '85,  and  S>3o  hi  May,  '86.  The  first  44  issoet 
of  the  BuUttm  (285,075  copies)  cost  the  League  $i245i  or  1«»  than  half  as  much  as  its  ''ana- 
teur  organ  "  of  the  previous  year,  though  the  8ia  pp.  of  those  issues  contained  a  modi  greater 
amount  of  letterpress,— the  offidal  matter  alone  covering  143  pp.  The  next  17  BmBgHm^  May 
to  Aug.,  '86  (160,650  copies;  460  pp.),  cost  SSQ^i  ''or  at  the  rate  of  leas  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  $z2,38a  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  officere'  meetings ;  and  the  Secretary-Editor  suggests  that  money  be  saved  hereafter  b* 
restricting  the  reports  of  such  meetings  to  things  actually  done.  During  the  first  year,  he  relied 
upon  volunteers  for  supplying  the  BuUetin  with  "  news  " ;  but  regular  correspondents  have 
since  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  "  official  matter  "  limits  the  editor's  chance  for  attractii^  a  variety  of 
contributions,  because  the  probability  of  delay  dampens  the  ardor  of  volunteer  writers ;  hot  It 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      62 r 

Im»  racoeeded,  nevenhelcM,  in  making  a  very  readable  joonal,  aad  in  proving  that  flie  odntf 
papers  me  wrong  when  they  pradicted  that  liis  eatioatea  of  the  adv.  patronage  reqniatte  for 
siqiporting  it  would  never  be  realized.  His  report  of  Sept.  i  aays  tliat  the  adv.  pp.  average  iSj 
or  thrice  as  many  as  first  hoped  for»  and  that  the  rates  have  not  been  raised,  though  the  circu- 
tatkm  has  increased  from  smo  to  (0,500.  I  shoold  think  that  an  advance  of  50  or  100  peroem. 
nuKht  viell  be  made  in  adv.  mtes ;  and  1  lurge  the  policy  of  inviting  qoarter-year  sobscriptkms 
to  the  BmIUOm^  for  I  believe  that  nearly  every  reader  thus  secured  will  be  persuaded  to  join  the 
l«agQe.  Critiomns  of  the  paper  and  its  edkor  may  be  fairly  asstrnifid  as  based  on  businem  or 
personal  rivalry,  unless  their  writers'  sincerity  be  shown  by  the  dearest  proof.  These  is  an 
overwhelming  presumption  that  the  man  who  originated  the  BtdUtm,  and  brought  it  to  its  pies* 
ent  plane  of  success,  in  the  face  of  general  scepticism  and  opposition,  will  take  more  pride  in 
pushing  it  higher  than  any  one  eke  could  take ;  and  the  first  principles  of  justice  forbid  that  he 
nhoold  be  superseded  in  oflBce  for  anything  less  than  demonstrated  incompetency.  Mistakes 
mast  be  made,  and  enemies  must  be  made,  by  every  holder  of  such  a  place ;  but  good  business- 
policy  nevertheless  demands  that  the  Secretary-Editor  should  be  a  fixture,  even  more  than  the 
President.  The  oflfeers*  debate,  in  advance  of  their  vote  wbidi  practically  made  him  so,  may 
be  found  in  the  Bmiietin  of  Mar.  19,  p.  a4^;  while  as  regards  their  policy  of  excluding  from 
the  pax>erall  discussions  of  rival  machines,  the  aiguments  for  and  against,  as  presented  at  the 
Buffalo  meeting,  cover  p.  304  of  the  issue  of  Sept  17. 

I  consider  the  act  of  foining  the  League  ol  American  Wheelmen  one  of  the  very  first  duties 
which  every  cycler  in  this  country  owes  to  his  fellows ;  but  I  think  that  the  considerations  whidi 
can  be  effectively  need  for  the  attraction  of  desirable  members  may  be  reduced  to  two.  Firstt 
umI  incomparably  the  strongest,  is  the  argument  of  sentiment  and  sytaopathy,— ^e  gratification 
i>l  the  sense  of  partnership  and  power  by  the  mere  act  of  standing  up  and  being  counted,— the 
nbiKty,  in  short,  to  feel  that  one  plays  a  personal  part  in  swelling  the  duMrus  which  I  have  quoted 
at  the  head  of  this  sketch  for  the  possible  enlightenment  of  the  Great  American  Hog.  As  Presi* 
dent  Bates  says,  **  the  organisation  is  more  valuable  because  of  the  political  power  it  poesesses, 
and  may  wield  when  necessary,  than  for  any  other  of  its  qualities  " ;  and  no  one  will  pretend 
that  such  a  veteran  joumaKst  can  have  worked  a  quarter-century  in  a  newspaper  office  without 
attaining  some  d^ree  of  shrewdness  as  a  politician.  I  quote  the  phrase  from  his  artide  in  the 
Wh^mtm  (May,  ^3,  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  lor  the  suppression  of 
bicyding  in  that  State ;  and  of  the  manner  in  which  his  verdant  little  boom  was  obliterated  when 
(he  \jtaig(Xb  formally  showed  its  hand  before  the  legislative  committee.  That  hand  held  alto- 
gether too  many  voters  to  be  laughed  out  of  court.  The  committee  saw  dearly  that  the  infiio> 
tion  of  injustice  upon  them,  for  the  sake  of  currying  favor  with  the  Hog,  wonkl  be  bad  pc^iticsj 
The  final  words  of  the  artide  are  these  ;  "  The  fact  that  we  possess  poHtical  power  is  our  shidd< 
the  fact  that  we  are  ready  to  use  it  when  attacked  win  double  the  strength  of  our  diield.  We 
trespass  upon  the  rights  of  no  man ;  let  us  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  of 
the  L.  A.  W.  is  its  most  valuable  quality,  and  is  alone  worth  much  more  than  its  cost."  Th^ 
second  and  final  aigument  which  can  be  effectively  employed  for  attracting  recruitt  to  the 
League--snch  recruits  as  insist  on  having  a  direct  and  tangible  return  for  their  money— 4s  the 
fact  that  no  other  weekly  cyding  journal,  of  as  much  merit  and  attractiveness  as  the  BuUttmy  is 
-  to  be  purchased  except  at  a  price  about  equal  to  the  enthre  cost  of  membership ;  and  that  most  of 
the  oAdal  road-books  are  supplied  only  to  League  members,  and  are  generally  supplied  with- 
out charge  to  members  of  thoee  Divisions  which  publish  them.  I  am  sure  that  it  is  a  waste  of 
time  to  rehearse  the  lesser  arguments  and  advantages.  Men  who  cannot  be  converted  by  the 
two  principal  <mes,  are  not  worth  having  at  all.  The  cycler  who  takes  no  pleasure  in  contribut- 
ing \m  personal  mite  to  hicrease  the  "  solidarity  "  of  cyding— in  hdping  perfect  a  system  which 
shall  convince  the  horse-owning  Hog  that  whenever  his  cloven  hoof  is  shown  for  the  tiampling 
down  of  wheelmen's  rights  in  the  backwoods  of  Maine,  its  appearance  there  will  make  enemies 
for  him  dear  aerois  to  tjie  coast  of  California,— is  a  cyder  not  specially  wanted  by  the  brother* 


622  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

hood ;  bot  the  ono  vho  does  o't  even  care  enough  about  the  bonnen  to  read  a  i 

•ewspapcr,  or  to  mpply  hiuuelf  with  vaiuaUe  infonBatkm  about  the  raade,  had  beet  be  left  ooi- 

tide  the  League  entirely. 

Aa  defined  in  iu  official  hand>book,  "  The  League  of  Ameckan  Wheehnen  is  aa  oiymba- 
tion  to  promote  the  general  interesa  of  cycling ;  to  aacertain,  defend,  and  protect  the  f^hts  «f 
wheelmen  (which  are  those  of  any  driver  of  horse  and  wagon),  to  encourage  and  facilitate  lov- 
ing, and  to  regulate  the  government  of  all  amateur  sports  cooneded  with  the  use  of  the  wlieci. 
As  a  national  organisation,  it  is  chiefly  composed  of  State  Divisions,  iHiidi  bear  lelatiooa  to  it 
very  similar  to  those  between  State  and  Nation  in  the  political  worid.  The  States  not  yet 
possessed  of  sufficient  membership  (ss)  to  organize  a  separate  Divisioa  axe  geveioed  diractly 
from  headquarters,  as  are  the  ttrritorits  by  the  nation,  politically  considered.  It  is  natter  of 
experience  that  ideal  efficiency  is  onlyreached  when  a  rider  belongs  to  a  dub,  the  dub  to  a  wdll> 
ofganiaed  State  Division,  and  the  State  Division  to  the  national  body,  with  well  paid  and  central- 
ized machinery  of  bumiess  and  information. "  The  mode  of  government  adopted  ma j  be  aiionm 
by  the  following  extracts  from  the  League's  organic  law :  "Its  officers  shaU  be  a  PrcsBdeat,  a 
Vice-President,  a  SecrBtary.Editor,  a  Treasurer,  Chief  Consuls  (one  fraoi  each  Stated  and 
Representatives  (each  State  being  entitled  to  one  Representative  for  every  so  memben);  aal 
these  officers  shall  fonn  a  Board  of  Officers,  of  whom  is  shall  coiMtitute  a  qoorum,  wiw  sftudl 
direa  and  decide  in  all  matters  not  provided  for  in  this  Constitution,  and  shall  have  ptwier  to  fil 
vacancies.  The  President,  the  Vice-President,  and  one  other  member  of  the  Board  of  Ofioen 
annually  chosen  by  the  board,  shall  form  an  Executive  Committee,  to  whom  ahaU  be  i 
matters  relating  to  revenue  and  disbursements  and  League  funds,  and  all  routine  1 
otherwise  disposed  of ;  and  such  committee  shall  report  to  the  board  at  each  regular  ■■■—•"■£ 
Each  Sute  in  which  there  are  25  or  more  members  may  oiganise  a  State  Division,  with  a  cede 
of  by-laws,  in  keeping  with  this  Constitution,  and  governed  by  an  Executive  Board  oomprisaqg 
the  Chief  Consul  and  Repa.,  together  with  the  Seoretary-Tieasnrer.  The  latter  may  be  cbooes  at 
huge  by  a  vote  of  the  Division,  and  it  shall  hold  at  least  one  meetiug  each  year  for  iliat  huhmsp, 

"All  officers  shall  hold  office  until  their  successors  are  elected  or  appointed ;  bat  the  Seat»> 
tary-Editor  shall  hold  oflloe  during  good-behavior  or  until  deatfi  or  his  resignation  shall  caoas 
his  removal.  (The  Board  of  Officers  may,  however,  by  a  vote  of  two-thirds  of  the  aManbets  and 
proxies  present,  after  one  month's  notice  has  been  given,  declare  his  office  vacant,  and  cider  a 
new  eleaion.)  He  shall  receive  a  salary  of  $1500  per  annum,  and  shall  be  allowed  to  draw  tnm 
the  treasury  such  part  of  Ssoooas  may  be  necessary  for  the  support  of  his  office ;  and  from  dns 
sum  he  shall  pay  all  assistants  whom  it  may  be  necessary  for  him  to  employ,  but  be  shall  be 
reimbursed  for  his  stationery  and  postage  expenses.  He  shall  give  bonds  for  the  faithful  db> 
charge  of  his  duties  in  the  sum  of  #3000,  and  the  bond  must  be  acceptable  to  the  Executive 
Committee ;  he  shall  at  all  times  be  under  the  control  of  the  Executive  Coaamittee ;  he  may  be 
suspended  by  them  to  await  the  action  of  the  board ;  he  shall  report  to  the  Board  of  Officers  at 
their  meetings,  and  once  every  three  months  he  shall  publish  in  the  offidal  oigan  a  repon  of  the 
general  statiis  of  the  League."  The  rules  as  to  his  salary  and  official  pennanency  were  adopted 
Feb.  13,  '86.  The  previous  rules  required  his  annual  electicm,  the  same  as  the  other  officers; 
snd  the  rule  sdopted  Feb.  33,  '8s»  said :  "  He  shall  receive  a  salary  of  ^3.33  per  month,  and 
shall  be  reimbursed  for  his  stationery,  postage  and  kindred  expenses."  The  first  salary  voted 
to  any  League  officer  was  ^50  a  year  for  the  Corresponding  Secrotary,  May  30^  *8i ;  and  the 
same  was  afterwards  given  to  the  Reoording  Secreuiy,  Feb.  23,  '8$.  When  both  secretaxysfaips 
were  consolidated,  and  combined  with  the  editorship,  June  i,  *8s,  the  salary  which  had  been 
raised  to  $1000  by  rule  of  Feb.  13, '85,  on  condition  of  such  consolidation,  really  began  to  be  paid. 

Of  the  half-dozen  standing  committees,  appointed  by  the  President,  for  a  year's  service,  end> 
ing  with  the  annual  meeting,  thoee  on  "  membership,"  "rules  and  ragubuions  "  and  "  ligMe 
and  privileges  "  must  consist  of  3  men  each,  who  must  be  taken  from  the  Board  of  Offioen; 
while  the  committees  on  "  transportation,"  "  racing,"  and  "  touring  "  may  be  taken  from  the 
asembership  in  general,  and  the  two  former  may  each  have  6  men.  The  last-named  comminee 
bthe  youngest  of  all,  having  been  established  by  vote  of  Feb.  sa,  '86,  which  aays  it  "ahaU  be 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      623 

called  the  Toaring  Board,  and  shall  emwUt  ol  a  Tcmnnaster  and  a  Bookmaster,  as  associate 
«lMunDen  of  aub-comniittees.  The  lonner,  as  chief  director  of  League  tours,  is  empowered  to 
appoint  members  as  his  assistants  in  any  quarter,  for  oiianiztng  and  conducting  such  tours ;  and, 
-^■Ah  the  coocurrence  of  the  President,  he  nuy  assume  other  duties  appropriate  for  a  manager. 
Tlie  Bookmaster  shall  have  as  associate  tx-^fficw  members  of  his  sub-committee  (to  be  knovni 
«•  the  Bureau  of  Information)  all  compilers  or  assbtant-^ompilers  of  road>books,  or  hand-books, 
pent,  present  or  prospective,  as  long  as  they  remain  t.eague  members ;  and  he  is  empowered  to 
i^T^**»>  and  keep  on  file  books,  maps,  road-reports  and  all  other  written  or  printed  facts  of  inter- 
est to  cyding  tourists,  and  to  supply  information  to  applicants."  The  committee  on  racing 
**  alxall  be  called  the  Racing  Board,  and  shall  have  chaige  of  all  matters  pertaining  to  racing  and 
tlie  diampioQshipa.  They  shall  make  all  arrangements  for  the  annual  championships  which  are 
beld  mder  League  auqiioes,  and  shall  assign  such  other  championships  as  are  now  or  may  be 
established,  to  be  run  under  the  auspices  of  such  dubs  or  assodations  as  they  may  consider  most 
desirable.  They  shall  have  power  to  make  such  rules  for  their  government  and  the  govern- 
ment  of  race  meetings  as  may  be  deemed  expedient,  and  may  appoint  one  or  more  official  handi- 
cappers  at  their  discretion."  No  member  shall  belong  to  more  than  two  committees ;  and  every 
oaaimitteo«hairman,  who  may  not  be  a  member  of  the  Board  of  Oflkers  by  dection,  shall  be- 
come one  ex-^ffki*,  "  and  shall  be  remunerated  for  all  esqienditures  which  in  the  opinion  of  the 
£xecaAe  Committee  were  made  for  the  good  of  the  department  under  his  charge." 

"  There  shall  be  an  annual  business  meeting  of  the  League  at  such  time  and  such  place  as 
the  Boaxd  of  Officers  may  determine  at  a  meeting  to  be  hdd  at  least  a  mos.  previous  to  the  15th 
day  of  May,  and  of  which  general  meeting  at  least  one  month's  public  notice  shall  be  given.  At 
this  meeting,  nch  member  present  shall  have  one  vote  on  any  question,  and  50  members  shall 
constitute  a  quorum.  Two  meetings  of  the  Board  of  Officers  shall  be  held  each  year,  one  at  least 
a  mos.,  and  not  more  than  4  mos.,  previous  to  May  15th,  and  one  in  the  fall,  subject  to  the  call 
•f  the  President.  The  President  and  Secretary  may,  at  any  time,  submit  any  matter  of  busi- 
acfls  properiy  before  the  board  in  writing,  in  the  form  of  a  vote  or  resolution,  to  each  member 
ef  the  board  by  mail,  upon  which  the  members  may  indicate  their  approval  or  disapproval ;  and 
wliett  replies  in  approval  shall  be  recdved  from  a  majority  of  the  members,  the  President  shall 
dedare  audi  rota  or  resolution  carried,  and  it  shall  be  taken  as  the  action  of  the  board,  as  if 
done  at  a  regular  meeting.  Between  the  1st  and  xoth  day  of  March  each  year  the  Secretary 
sball  send  to  each  member  of  the  League  a  voting  blank  for  Chief  Consuls  and  Representatives. 
Eadi  member  who  was  admitted  or  whose  dues  were  paid  up  to  the  ist  day  of  March,  shall  be 
entitled  to  one  vote  for  Chief  Consul  for  the  State  wherein  he  resides,  and  one  vote  for  eadi 
Representative  that  his  Sute  is  entitled  to  under  these  rules ;  each  vote  shall  be  signed  by  the 
flscmber  voting  it,  and  returned  to  the  Secretary  before  the  loth  day  of  April,  and  by  him  de- 
livered to  the  Committee  on  Rights  and  Privileges.  This  committee  shall  sort  and  count  the 
votes,  and  make  a  return  ttf  the  same  to  the  President  on  or  before  the  aoth  day  of  April ;  the 
peraoo  obtaining  the  largest  number  of  votes  in  each  State  for  Chief  Consul  shall  be  elected,  and 
the  penons  receiving  the  largest  number  of  votes  as  Representatives  shall  be  elected.  (A 
DiviHoo  having  a  membership  of  500  or  more  may,  however,  adopt  the  rule  of  sending  votes  to 
the  Division  SMretary,  before  April  10,  and  he  shall  certify  the  result  directly  to  the  League's 
President,  before  April  30.)  The  President  shaH,  on  or  before  the  tst  day  of  May,  declare  the 
result  of  the  election,  cause  the  same  to  be  published  without  delay  in  the  official  organ  and  also 
notify  every  member  of  the  Board  of  Officers  and  persons  so  dected  of  the  result.  At  the  same 
time  and  place  as  the  annual  meeting  the  Chief  Consuls  and  Represenutives  so  chosen  shaQ 
■KCt  and  form  themsdves  into  a  Board  of  Officers  for  the  ensuing  year.  At  this  meeting  they 
shall  elect  from  the  membership  a  President*  a  Vice-President,  a  Treasurer,  and  a  third  member 
ler  the  Execntive  Committee.  If  any  of  these  officers  be  chosen  from  the  general  membership 
tat  not  from  the  members  of  the  Board  of  Officers,  such  officer  shall  become  a  member  of  the 
board,  and  shdl  continue  as  such  so  long  as  he  shall  hold  such  office. 

"  Eadi  Chief  Consul  shdl  have  general  management  and  oversight  of  the  affdrs  of  the 
Leagne  in  his  respective  State ;  he  shall  call  and  preside  at  dl  State  meetings,  shall  approve  ami 


624  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

appoint  one  Consul  for  each  locality  that  in  his  judgment  Is  entitled  thereto,  and  shall  appmot 
League  hotels.  RepreaenUtives  shall  recommend  to  their  Chief  Consuls  names  of  members  «f 
the  League  to  serve  as  Consuls,  and  shall  recommend  hotels  for  appointment  as  League  head- 
quarters.  They  shall,  in  connection  with  their  Chief  Consul,  have  power  to  decide  all  local  nat- 
ters in  their  Sutes  as  provided  for  in  these  rules,  and  shaH  have  a  general  oversight  over  ike 
affairs  of  the  League  in  their  immediate  district.  The  Division  Secretary-Treasurer  dial)  keep  a 
full  register  of  all  members  of  his  Division,  shall  keep  suitable  books  of  account  of  idl  f 
and  expenditures,  and  shall  transact  such  other  business  for  his  Division  as  may  be  \ 
by  the  members  thereof  at  any  of  their  meetings.  Consuls  shall  acquire  and  give  any  inforroatiea 
as  to  roads,  hotels,  laws,  and  other  matters  of  interest  in  their  localities  to  members  of  the  Leagae, 
calling  upon  them  in  person  or  by  letter ;  keep  the  State  officers  informed  from  time  to  time  by 
reports,  perform  such  duties  as  the  latter  may  require  of  them,  and  generally  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  eKgiUc  to 
membership  in  thb  League  upon  payment  of  an  initiation  fee  and  dues,  and  with  the  indone. 
ment  of  two  League  members  in  good  standing,  or  of  three  reputable  dtixens  of  the  United 
States  or  Canada.  Upon  the  approval  of  the  Board  of  Officers  or  a  committee 
weeks  after  the  publication  of  his  name  in  a  list  of  candidates  in  the  ofBdal  oigan  of  the  \ 
the  applicant  shall  become  a  member.  An  amateur  is  one  who  has  never  engaged  in,  nor  a 
in,  nor  taught  any  recognized  athletic  exercise  for  money  or  other  remuneration,  nor  1 
competed  with  or  against  a  professional  for  a  prize  of  any  description.  To  prevent  i 
standing  in  interpreting  the  above,  the  League  draws  attention  to  the  following  < 
wheelman  forfeits  his  rights  to  compete  as  an  amateur,  and  thereby  becomes  a  professiooal,  \rf 
engaging  in  cycli.ig  or  any  other  recognized  athletic  exercise,  or  personally  teaching,  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  hainng  the  pace  made 
by,  a  professional,  in  public  or  for  a  prize ;  selling,  realizing  upon,  or  otherwise  tiu'uJng  into  cad 
any  prize  won  by  him.  This  rule  does  not  apply  to  teaching  the  elements  of  bicycling  solely  for 
the  purpose  of  effecting  the  sale  of  a  bicycle.  The  League  recognizes  as  athletic  exercises  aB 
those  sports  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  National  Ass*n  of  Amateur  Athletes  of  America,  iadnd- 
ing  running,  walking,  jumping,  pole-leaping,  putting  the  shot,  throwing  the  hammer,  throwing 
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  iasae  of  Iks 
BMlletin,  or  procured  from  any  League  officer.  App>ended  to  it  are  the  following  wonds,  ad- 
dressed to  the  Secretary-Editor :  *'  Inclosed  you  will  find  initiation-fee  and  annual  dues  for  die 
L.  A.  W.  I  hereby  certify  that  I  am  over  z8  years  of  age  and  an  amateur  within  die  meaning 
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)  must  endose  $z ;  aecoud  qaarter 
(April  to  June),  $1.75 ;  third  quarter  (July  to  Sept.),  $1.50;  fourth  quarter  (Oct.  to  DeeX  $>•>$. 
Continuance  of  membership  costs  $1  a  year,  payable  in  advance  on  January  i ;  and  all  names 
not  paid  for  by  March  i  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  signed  by  both  the 
Secretary  and  Treasurer,  is  issued  to  each  member  each  year,  and  contains  his  name  and  ea^ 
rollment-numbcr,  together  with  a  "  series  letter."  Thus,  as  the  cards  of  '86  bekwig  to 
"G,**  those  of  '87  will  belong  to  series  "  H,"  and  so  on.  The  new  member  usually  x 
his  card  about  a  month  after  sending  in  his  money,  though  the  Btdletm  meanwhile 
hjra  each  week,  bcgihning  with  the  issue  which  prints  his  name  as  an  applicant.  The  act  otf 
Jbining  the  League  makes  him  a  member  of  a  Slate  Division  also,  if  one  exists  in  the  Siala 
where  he  resides ;  and  no  direct  tax  is  levied  for  the  support  of  this,  inasmuch  as  eeie-half  the 
apnual  dues  which  he  pays  the  League  are  returned  to  the  treasury  of  his  State  Divistim. 
^11  applications  and  money  for  membership  must  be  sent  to  the  League's  Secretary* Editor,  S. 
M.  Aaron,  Box  916,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      625 

Under  the  system  of  govemtnent  and  admioiatntion  thus  deecribed,  the  Sute  Divitians  of 
^l»e  League  are  the  chief  tources  of  power,  aud  supply  the  mep&s  by  which  the  wheelmen  of  any 
C^veo  seaion  may  most  readily  put  ioto  praaical  shape  their  own  ideas  for  the  enoouragement 
e>f  cycliog.    For  example,  the  Sute  Divisiou  of  Pennsylvania,  influenced  laigely  by  the  seal  of 
at  Philadelphia  Represenutive,  H.  S.  Wood,  chief  of  the  League's  '*  Bureau  of  Information," 
laas  paid  out  no  less  than  llaooo  fur  printii^  and  mailing  4  eds.  of  a  road-book  containing  tabu- 
Ssr  reports  of  ia,ooo  m.  of  roads,  chiefly  in  Pa.,  N.  J.,  and  Md.    The  ounnent  ed.  may  be  con- 
sidcfed  the  joint  publication  of  the  Divisions  of  those  three  Sutes,  all  of  whose  members  receive 
free  copies  of  it,  though  its  price  to  League  men  of  other  Sutes  is  %x.    The  Massachusetts 
I>iviaion  daims  credit  for  publishing  a  Sute  road-book  a  year  earlier,  though  in  much  less  elab- 
orate style  (pp.  48;  see  p.  111)  ;  hand-books  of  the  Ohio.  Division  (pp.  6a)  and  the  Missouri 
Division  (pp.  8a)  were  issued  in  '85 ;  and  the  '86  ed.  of  the  former  is  greatly  improved  and  con- 
tains a  large  road-map  of  the  Suu  (sent  for  %\  by  the  Chief  Consul,  J.  R.  Dunn,  Massillon).  The 
Caiifomia  Division  was  hardly  a  half-year  old  when  it  issued  an  excellent  road-book  (64  pp., 
Aug.,  '86),  00  the  mod^l  of  Wood's, ^containing  noc  only  blanks  for  written  additions,  but  also 
•tubs  on  which  10  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  %i  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  95  c    The  outlay  upon  this 
was  ^400;  and  cash  orders  as  well  as  road-reports  should  be  sent  to  the  compiler  and  "  Divbion 
bookroaster,"  J.  W.  Gibson,  61a  Hyde  St.,  San  Francisco.    Roadbooks  are  now  in  progress 
by  the  Divisbns  of  Connecticut  (C  G.  Huntington,  Hartford),  Indiana  (L.  M.  Wainwright, 
Mobleaville),  Massachoaetu  ( H.  W.  Hayes,  91  State  st.,  Boston),  Michigan  (J.  H.  Johnson, 
S07  Spmce  St.,  Detroit),  and  New  York.    The  latter  Division  may  be  credited  with  giving 
offidat  support  to  an  excellent  private  work,  issued  in  Apr.,  '36,  by  one  of  its  consuls  :    "  Road 
Book  of  Long  Island ;  containing,  also,  the  b»t  riding  of  Now  York  and  New  Jersey,  within 
50  m.  of  New  York  City,  with  maps  and  plans ;  pub.  under  the  auspices  of  ths  Brooklyn  Bi. 
C."    This  is  sent  for  %\  by  the  compiler,  A.  B.  Barkman  (60S  Fourth  av.,  Brooklyn);  and  all 
ooromunicatioQS  ooncemii^  the  forthcoming  New  York  Road-Book  should  be  addressed  to  him. 
In  the  second  year  of  the  League,  before  any  Sute  Divisions  had  been  fonned,  it  issued 
a  book  (Sept.  15,  *8i,  from  the  press  of  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons,  New  York ;  pp.  104,  price  50  c.) 
oontainiog  the  "  constitution,  racing  ndes  and  general  information,"  together  with  lists  of  the 
executive  board,  the  .directors,  the  consuls,  and  the  members.    The  three  latter  lists  were  ar- 
fanged  by  States,  and  each  Sute's  merobsrs  (May  30,  *8i)  were  presented  alphabetically,  with 
exact  residences  and  enrollment-numbers.    The  ill-fated  "  ham  and  handle^Mr  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  ;  "  The  League  of  Ameri- 
can Wheelmen  was  born  at  Newport,  R.  I.,  May  30,  1880."    That  day  was  Sunday,  and  the  real 
date  of  nativity  was  Monday,  the  31st ;  but  the  error  of  this  earliest  "  official  book  "  has  been 
very  generally  perpetuated,  so  that  the  Leagi^'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  full  text  of  the  ooostitution  has  been  thrice  printed  in  the  BniUHn :  Aug.  so,  '85,  pp.  138- 
40;  Jan.  89,  '86,  pp.  70-71 ;  May  21,  '36,  pp.  4>3->5  (omission  given  later,  p.  554).    Proposed 
amendments  were  printed  Feb.  19,  '86,  pp.  iso-sa,  and  ncing  rules,  Sept.  4,  '8$,  p.  174,  and 
Jan.  39,  '86,  p.  ya.    The  Bi  HWU*t "  special  number  "  (Jan.  i,  '83)  contained  the  constitution 
and  racing  rules,  and  the  latter  have  been  issued  in  pamphlet  form  by  the  Racing  Board.    In- 
structions about  joining  the  Leasra?.  and  its  constitution  and  most  important  regulations,  were 
printed  in  the  ^Ar#/,  and  as  a  "  H^^i  s  pplement,"  whDe  that  journal  was  oigan ;  and  a  sim- 
ilar aheet  was  pub.  by  the  Secretary  about  a  year  later  (Feb.  is,  '85;  ed.  3500),  from  type 
used  on  the  "  amateur  ^xette."    As  early  as  Dec.,  '85,  the  BuUtiin  began  to  print  articles  for 
a  "  L.  A.  W.  Handbook,  to  appear  in  Feb.,"  and  electrotypes  were  made  from  these;  and 
afterwards  destroyed  unused,  because  of  chancres  in  the  rules.    Various  other  caum^s  have  delayed 
the  actual  publication-day  so  that  now,  in  Nov.,  it  aeema  unlikely  to  arrive  before  '87.    The 


626  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

pamphlet  is  designed  u  an  electioneering  document,  and  u  to  be  supi^ied  to  all 
who  will  pay  the  postage.  It  will  have  about  70  pp.,  and  sooo  copies  will  be  printed  as  a  ist  ed. 
In  Aug.,  '86,  a  little  pamphlet  was  prepared  by  the  Sec-Ed  for  officers* oae (34  pp.,  25ooopiB» 
from  type  which  had  been  used  in  BuUeii$i)^  containing  constitution  and  by-laws  oa  ha  ]efi*1i^ 
pages,  and  on  the  opposite  pages  certain  proposed  amendmenu  which  were  adopted  Sept.  y. 

A  vote  was  passed  at  the  annual  meeting  of  July  a,  '85,  authorizing  the  Executive  Ceia- 
nuttee  to  take  measures  for  getting  the  League  incorporated  under  the  laws  of  some  State  ;  bat 
the  committee,  having  examined  the  difficulties  of  the  case,  decided  not  to  act  until  after  report* 
ing  the  same  to  the  board.  These  difficulties  were  described  by  the  Vice-President,  S.  Teny,  a 
lawyer,  in  a  report  which  was  printed  in  BuHtiiHf  Dec.  as,  p.  410;  and  again  Mar.  5,  ^86,  p 
189,  with  the  account  of  the  board  meeting  of  Feb.  aa,  which  voted  to  rescind  the  act  of  Jirff; 
but  the  matter  was  revived  Sept.  3,  when  the  board  voted  that  "  the  Ex.  Com.  ahoold  proceed 
with  the  incorporation,  if,  as  a  result  of  consulting  with  the  Committee  on  Rigfats  and  Mfi- 
leges,  they  consider  it  practicable."  The  same  meeting  amended  the  election-law  so  as  to  allov 
any  Division  having  a  membership  of  500  or  more  to  adopt  the  rule  of  sending  ballots  to  iSk 
Divi«on*s  Secretary,  instead  of  the  League's  Secretary,  and  ordering  the  former  to  certify  the 
result  directly  to  the  League's  President.  The  New  York  Division  at  once  took,  advantt^  ol 
the  diange  by  apportioning  the  State  into  six  voting-districts,  according  to  county  lines,  and 
ordering  that  each  district  be  entitled  to  one  representative  for  every  50  members  residing  tbereia. 
If  these  district  representatives  prove  fewer  than  the  State  is  entitled  to,  the  Chief  Coend  a 
authorized  to  nominate  the  needed  number  of  representatives^it-Iaige,  for  appointment  by  the 
President.  The  Secretary-Treasurer  was  directed  to  keep  a  geographical  list  of  members'  resi- 
dences, as  well  as  an  alphabetical  list,  and  was  voted  an  allowance  of  ^200  for  the  ensmag  year. 
Hereafter,  he  b  to  be  elected  on  the  same  mail-vote  with  the  representatires,  and  so  is  the  Vioe- 
Consul ;  and  the  latter,  in  case  the  office  of  Chief  Consul  becomes  vacant,  is  to  hold  tfaatt  office 
until  the  next  election, — though  these  provisions  seem  to  conflict  with  the  constitution  of  the 
League.  On  Sept.  i,  the  Division  had  a  cash  balance  of  $1312,  after  expending  $469  daring  the 
year.  (The  balance  in  the  League  treasury  at  the  same  time  was  $1757;  and  the  Executive 
Committee  reported  the  adoption  of  an  improved  system  of  book-keeping,  whidi  cnres  the  evils 
of  the  plan  inherited  from  the  early  days  of  the  League,  and  allows  its  exact  finandal  status  to 
be  very  promptly  discovered.)  Rules  similar  to  those  of  New  York  will  doubdess  soon  be 
adopted  by  the  other  large  Divisions  of  the  League,  and  help  ensure  the  election  of  its  repte- 
sentatives  from  a  much  greater  number  of  localitiea.  The  Secretary-Editor  is  earnestly  in  favor 
of  a  long-studied  plan  for  allowing  every  Division  to  canvass  its  own  votes,  by  a  local  leinre- 
ing-board  of  three ;  and  a  part  of  the  plan  is  that,  if  this  local  board  fails  to  act  by  Mar.  15,  the 
Division  Secretary  must  send  the  ballots  to  the  Executive  Comnrittee,  in  order  that  they  vof 
canvass  the  same  not  later  than  Mar.  30,  and  report  to  the  PresMlent  by  Apr.  ao.  The  pha  also 
contemplates  that  voting-blanks  shall  be  supplied  to  the  members  of  each  Division  by  its  Chief 
Consul,  so  that  the  League  Secretary's  task  of  sending  blanks  and  receiving  voces  may  be  re- 
stricted to  the  case  of  non-Division  members  only.  His  attempt  to  secure  the  adoption  of  tha 
reform  did  not  succeed  at  the  meeting  of  Sept.  3,  and  he  then  announced  the  intention  off  vppai- 
ing  to  a  mail-vote ;  but,  on  further  reflection,  he  decided  not  to  do  this  until  after  seeing  lit 
operation  of  the  local  election-law  already  adopted.  Allusion  may  be  made  here  to  the  sdiene 
of  "  President  Bates "  (in  the  CycU,  VLvf  or  June,  '86)  for  superseding  the  **  hnreanoatic 
system  "  now  in  vogue,  by  a  congress  of  real  representatives,  who  should  convene  atricriyfor 
business  and  should  actually  govern  the  League.  I  think  the  plan  implies  too  rou^  patviotisB 
to  be  practicable,  but  the  ideas  advanced  in  favor  of  it  are  interesting  and  suggestive.  My  osn 
tendency  is  towards  letting  well-enough  alone  t  and,  as  the  present  League  government  is  hose* 
and  fairiy  efficient,  I  am  not  alarmed  at  all  when  I  hear  it  called  a  '*  bureaucracy  ** ;  but  if  kieal- 
tsts  yearn  to  radically  reform  it,  I  urge  them  to  work  on  the  lines  laid  down  by  Prendent  BMts. 
The  League's  seVen  annual  boards  of  executive  officers  have  been  constituted  as  follovs: 
First,  1880- i.  Presidetd,  C.  E.  Pratt  (b.  Mar.  13,  '45)1  Boston ;  Vin-PmiOent,  T.  K. 
Longstreth,  Philadelphia;  Commander,  C.  K.  Munroe,  New  Yoric;  Carr^tpomdmg  Seerdmjy 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      627 

Jk.S.  Paraons(b.  Nov.  6,  *4i),  Cambridge;  Rtccrding  Secretary,].  F.  BurriU,  New  York; 
^rwmsmner,  H.  L.  Willoughby,  Saratoga. 

SocoND,  18S1-2.  /».,  C.  E.  Pratt,  Boston  \  K-P.,  J.  M.  Fairfield,  Chicago ;  C,  C.  K. 
Afnnne,  New  York  (after  March,  S.  A.  Maraden,  New  Haven);  C.  S.,  K.  N.  Putnam,  New 
York  i  If.  S.,  S.  T.  Dark,  Baltimore;  T.,  Dillwyn  Wiatar,  Philadelphia. 

Third,  1882-3.  /*•!  W.  H.  Miller  (b.  184a),  Columbus ;  K-P.,  A.  S.  Parsons,  Cambridge) 
^.  5*.,  K.  N.  Putnam,  New  York  (after  Nov.,  F.  T.  Slwles,  Oeveland) ;  J?.  S.,  A.  S.  Hibbard, 
MUwaukee ;  7.,  W.  V.  GUman  (b.  Nov.  35,  '56),  Nashua. 

FouKTH,  1883-4.  P.»  N.  M.  Beckwith(b.  Apr.  24,  '46),  New  York;  K-P.,W.  H.  Miller, 
0>lumbu8 ;  C.  S. ,  F.  Jenkins  (b.  Jan.  30,  '59),  New  York  (after  Feb.  8,  W.  V.  Oilman,  Nashua  ) ; 
J?.  S.,  A.  S.  Hibbanl,  Milwaukee ;  T.,  W.  V.  Oilman,  Nashua. 

Fifth,  1884-5.  P.,  N.  M.  Beckwith,  New  York;  K.-A,  W.  H.  Miller,  Columbus;  C. 
^.,  C  K.  Ailey,  Buffalo;  E.  S.,  E.  M.  Aaron,  Philadelphia;  7.,  S.  Terry,  Hartford. 

Sixth,  1885-6.  P.,  N.  M.  Beckwith,  New  York;  K.-/».,  S.  Terry,  Hartford ;  r.,  P.  P. 
Kendall (b.  May  12,  '52),  Worcester;  Secrttary-EdUar^  E.  M.  Aaron,  Philadelphia;  Third 
MnmUr  0/ ExectUivti  T.  J.  Kirkpatrick  (b.  Sept.  33,  ^55),  Springfield,  O. 

Sevbnth,  1886-7.  P'%  ^- 1^'  Beckwith,  New  York;  V.-P.,  T.  J.  Kirkpatrick,  Springfield, 
O.  ;  7*.,  S.  Lawton  (b.  June  20,  '58),  Springfield,  Ms. ;  S.-E.,  E.  M.  Aaron,  Philadelphia;  T. 
M.  e/Ex.,  J.  C.  Gulick  (b.  Apr.  «,  '52),  New  York. 

In  the  following  list  of  League  committees,  serving  Oct.  30,  '86,  the  diairman  of  each  is 
first-named :  Mbmbbkship.— E.  F.  Hill,  Peekskill,  N.  Y. ;  O.  C.  Brown,  16  BVoad  St.,  Eliza- 
beth, N.  J. ;  J.  R.  Dunn,  Massillon,  O.  RAaNG.— A.  Bassett  (b.  Mar.  10,  '45),  22  School  st, 
Boston  ;  E.  L.  MiUer,  134  S.  Front  St.,  Philadelphia;.  N.  H.  Van  Skklen  (b.  Feb.  9,  '60),  > 
Adams  St.,  Chicago;  C.  H.  Potter  (b.  May  30,  '55),  Cleveland;  Oerry  Jones,  Binghamfon,  N. 
Y.  COffidal  Handicapper,  N.  P.  Tyler  (b.  Oct.  11,  '48),  New  Rochelle,  N.  Y.]  Rulbs  and 
RBGUt.ATioNS.— W.  I.  Harris,  Boston;  C.  S.  Butler,  363  Main  St.,  Buffak),  N.  Y. ;  K.  L« 
Oapp,  338  W.  60th  St.,  N.  Y.  Rights  and  Privilegbs.— C.  E.  Pratt,  597  Washington  St., 
Boston;  J.  C.  Guliek,  133  Nassau  st,  N.  Y. ;  A.  S.  Parsons,  Cambridge,  Mass.  Tkanspor- 
TATioH.— Burley  B.  Ayers,  152  S.  Hoyne  av.,  Chicago,  111. ;  O.  R.  Bidwell,  315  W.  58th  st, 
N.  Y. ;  W.  S.  Bun,  587  Main  st.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. ;  J.  H.  Livingston,  ed.  Rfformtry  Bennington, 
Vl  ;  F.  T.  Sholes,  Marsh-HarwoodCo.,  Cleveland,  O. ;  Frank  Read,  Record  Building,  Phila- 
delphia ;  F.  A.  Elwell,  Trojucri^  o&ct,  Portland,  Me. ;  Columbus  Waterhouse,  San  Francisco, 
Cal. ;  F.  X.  Mudd,  A.  &  W.  P.  Railroad,  Montgomery,  Ala. ;  W.  M.  Brewster,  Vandalia  Line, 
St.  Louis,  Mo. ;  M.  E.  Craves  (at  large),  Mannheim  Building,  St.  Paul,  Minn.  Touring.^ 
B.  B.  Ayera  <b.  Oct  8,  '58),  Tourmaster,  Chicago,  111. ;  H.  S.  Wood  (b.  Dec.  18,  *6o),  Book* 
master,  Youngstown,  O. ;  O.  R.  Bidwell,  Chief  Marshal,  New  York ;  H.  D.  Corey  (b.  Jan. 
aSf  '64),  General  Agent,  Boston ;  F.  Jenkins,  Chief  Quartermaster,  New  York ;  E.  Oliver,  Sec- 
fetary,  Chicago;  W.  G.  Kendall (b.  July  i,'54),  Boston ;  W.  S.  Bull,  Buffalo;  W.G.  E.  Peirce, 
Chicago ;  N.  L.  Collamer,  Washington ;  J.  Pennell,  London.  The  5  last-named  are  the  re- 
spective marshals  of  the  Eastern,  Middle,  Southern,  Western,  and  European  touring  divisir.is. 

In  the  following  list  of  State  officers  who  are  serving  the  League,  Oct.  30,  '86,  the  first- 
named  in  each  case  is  Chief  Consul,  whose  term  expires  at  the  next  annual  meeting,  and  the 
second-named  is  Secretary-Treasurer,  whose  term  expires  about  a  year  from  the  designated  date 
<d  his  election.  The  date  after  each  State's  name  shows  when  its  Division  was  organised ;  and 
die  undated  States  are  those  having  no  organization  or  Secretary-Treasurer.  Birthdays,  when 
known,  are  enclosed  in  parenthesis;  and  re-elections  are  designated  by  the  *.  The  States  ar« 
aamed  geogra|rfiically, — ^brackets  being  used  for  those  where  no  officers  have  been  chosen  off 
appointed,  thof^h  L^gue  members  reside  in  most  of  them. 

MB.~May  30,  '86;  F.  A.  EhnrelP(b.  Nov.  7,  *s8),  44  Exchange  it,  t*ortIand;  A.  L.  T. 
Cnmminfi,  Biddeford,  May  90,  ^.  N.  H.— ^pt.  18,  '83 ;  H.  M.  Bennett,*  Manchester;  G. 
r.  HiU,  Great  Palls,  July  5,  '86.  Vr.-Oct.  33,  '84 ;  C.  G.  Ross*  (b.  July  it,  '69),  Rutland  t 
r.  E.  DoBoi«*(b.  June  14.  '59),  West  Randolph,  July  5,  '86.  MASs.-Oct.  at,  '8s ;  H.  Ml 
Btyea  (b.  Mar.  t6,  '61),  91  Stftte  tt,  Boston ;  S.  Lawton*  (b.  June  ao,  '58),  Springfield,  Aofi 


628  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

'86.  R.  I.— Dec  9»  '85 ;  J.  A.  Chase,  Pawtucket;  H.  U  PerioM,  Providence,  Dec  lo^  '85. 
Ct.— Jan.  3a,  '84;  C.  O.  Huntington,*  Hartford;  D.  J.  Pofit(b.  Jan.  aS,  '61),  Uanford,  Jnae 
39,  '86.  N.  Y.-May  39,  '83  ;  G.  R.  BidweU,  313  W.  sSth  si.,  N.  Y. ;  E.  K.  Attsiin*  tb.  Dec. 
4,  '60),  55  Hart  St.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  Sept  3,  '86.  N.  J.— May  30,  '83  ;  E.  W.  Johnaoo,  a» 
Broadway,  N.  Y. ;  F.  R.  Bonnell,  51  Crescent  av.,  Jersey  City,  Aug.  aS,  '86.  Pa. — ^Jnne  17, 
'63;  J.  A.  Wells,  331  Chestnut  st.,  Philadelphia;  T.  H.  Wright* (b.  Mar.  34.  '60),  Box  1619^ 
Philadelphia,  Aug.  19,  '86.  Dbu^J.  £.  Palmer,  1335  Market  st,  Wikningioa.  Mix— Jnw 
37.  '84 ;  J.  K.  Banlett,  South  and  Second  sts.,  Baltimore ;  W.  S.  Bayley,*  3^6  North  av..  Baiti- 
more,  June  3,  '86.  D.  C^Nov.  34,  '84;  £.  T.  Pcttengill,*  1713  N.  Y.  av.,  Washiastoo;  Gl 
M.  Myers,  Citizens  Nat  Bank,  Washington,  Mar.  31,  'S6.  W.  Va.— Aug.  31,  '86;  W.  I» 
Wright  (b.  Apr.  8,  '59),  Wheeling;  H.  P.  Wilkinson,  Wheeling.  Aug.  31,  '86.  Va.— Oct  at,. 
'86 ;  F.  L.  Harris,  Hamsonbuiis ;  A.  K.  Schaap,  Richmond,  Oct.  31,  '86.  N.  C— J.  L.  Yopp, 
Wilmington.  (S.  C,  Ga.]  Fla.— W.  J.  Farrell,  Femandina.  [Aui.]  Miss.— J.  F.  Brace 
(b.  June  7,  '65),  Vicksbuig.  La.— Mar.  3,  '85 ;  E.  A.  Shields  (b.  Nov.  a8,  '59),  93  Race 
St.,  New  Orleans;  Geo.  Baquid,  Box  783,  New  Orieans,  June  33,  '86.  Tax.— W.  A.  L.  Kaox 
(b.  June   16,  '57),  Dallas.    [Ark.]    Tbn.n.— Jan.  iS,  '86;  W.  L.  Surprise  (b.  Dec  9,  '59),  354 

Front  St.,  Memphis;  C.  J.  Scherer,  an  Main  st.,  Memphis,  Jan.  iS,  '86.    Kv. 'S4;  N.  G. 

Crawford,  Louisville;  T.J.  Willison,  Dayton,  July  3,  '86.  O.— July,  '83;  J.  R,  Ihnn, 
Massillon ;  G.  S.  Atwater,  Massillon,  Sept.  6,  '86.  Micii.— May  30,  '83 ;  J.  IL  Johnaoo*  (h. 
Mar.  18,  '60),  107  Spruce  st.,  Detroit ;  J.  E.  Beal  (b.  Feb.  33,  '60),  Ann  Arimr,  Jime  39, 
'86.  Ind. — Se^.  37,  '83;  A.  B.  Irwin  (b.  July  14,  '50),  Rushville;  J.  Smmerman,  37  S. 
Alabama  St.,  Indianapolis,  May  15,  '86.  III.— May  31,  '84;  J.  O.  Blake*  (b.  May  33,  '4S)». 
68  Wabash  av. ;  B.  B.  Ayers*(b.  Oct..«,  '58),  153  S.  Hoyne  av.,  July  5,  '86.     Mo.— Jom 

18,  '85 ;  J.  S.  Rogers  (b.  Aug.  19,  '64),  St.  Louis ;  J.  A.  Lewis,  U.  S.  Treasury,  St  Loois,  Jooe 

19,  '86.  I  A. —May  31,  '84;  W.  M.  Fei^guson,  Jefferson;  J.  F.  RaU*(b.  Mar.  iS,  '63X  Icnra 
Falls,  Dec  3,  '85.  Wis.— A.  A.  Hathaway,  Box  454>  Milwaukee.  Minn.— Sept  10,  *S3;  S. 
F.  Heath,**  Armory  Hall,  Minneapolis ;  II.  A.  Aim  (b.  Nov.  37,  '49),  Farmws  and  Mecliaaics 
Bank,  Minneapolis,  Sept  33,  '8$.  [Dak.]  Neb.— Apr.  39,  *S6;  W.  F.  Rogers,  ijaa 
Famam  st,  Omaha ;  Bcnn  Fell,  3503  Harney  st,  Omaha,  May  10,  '86.  Kan.— Sept  32,  "SS; 
J.  H.  Everest  (b.  Dec  11,  '63),  Lyons;  C.  C.  Candy  (b.  June  aa,  '65),  Ft  Leavenworth,  Sepc 
as,  *«6.  [Ind.  Tea.,  N.  Mbx.]  Col.— Feb.  17,  '86;  L.  B.  Johnson  (h.  Nov.  13,  "63), 
Denver;  F.  J.  Chamard,  443  Glenavon  st,  Denver,  Feb.  17,  '36.  Wv.— F.  H.  Clarke,  Chey>^ 
enne.  [Mon.]  Id.— E.  C.  Coffin.  [Wash.,  Or.,  Utah,  Nbv.,Aiuz.]  Cal.— Feb.  18,  ^; 
R.  M.  Welch (b.  Nov.  13,  '56),  Stock  Exchange,  San  Francisco;  P.  E.  Haslett  (b.  Nov.  si,  '^sH 
Green  and  Front  sts.,  Feb.  ao,  '86.  (A.  W.  Laird  was  elected  Sec-Treas.  of  Biina.  Div.«  Sept. 
n.  '86.)  

"The  American  Cyclists'  Union  "  (oi^g.  May  39,  '36)  is  an  o£bhoot  of  the  League,  1 
been  called  into  existence  by  the  fact  that  the  latter's  racing  rules  formed  a  baxrier  to  the  s 
of  the  Springfield  tournament,  as  an  "  international "  annual  competition.  The  ultimate  1 
for  their  thus  forming  a  barrier  lies  in  a  peculiarity  of  cycle  radng  which  distinguishes  it  fn 
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  extrendy  diflkak 
the  maintenance  of  any  rule  which  tries  to  class  in  separate  social  grades  the  racers  for  ^biy 
and  the  racers  for  gain  ;  and  the  attempts  to  maintain  it  cause  a  great  deal  of  bitteiaess  and 
acrimony  to  be  displayed  in  public,  and  an  endless  amount  of  hypocri^,  humb«^,  shiUf^lnZtf, 
sophistry,  treadiery,  deceit  al^d  downrigHl  lying,  to  prevail  in  private.  "  They  do  these  thinga 
much  better  in  France,"  it  seems  to  me ;  and  the  aigument  of  those  Englishmen,  v 
by  J.  R.  HofX  and  the  editors  of  WketUngt  who  protest  against  the  fdly  of  the  [ 
which  is  made  in  most  other  countries,  at  discriminating  between  "amateur'*  and"pio- 
fessiona)  "  racing  cyclers,  is  to  my  mind  conclusive  and  unanswerable.  Almost  anyyoox^fe^ 
low  who  likes  to  exhibit  himself  on  the  race  track,  and  who  has  power  to  do  any  s 
Vrheeling  there,  will  accept  pay,  in  one  shape  or  another,  from  the  maker  of  the  1 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN,      629 

-Jib  victories  help  adTertiae  into  popularity ;  and  no  set  of  rules  irtiich  ahn  to  make  sodi  aooept- 
snoe  put  him  at  a  social  disadvantage  alongside  a  less-lucky  racer,  whose  swiftness  is  n't  worth  a 
-anaker's  paying  for,  will  command  general  support  in  a  democratic  community.  If  "  btema. 
"tional  tournaments  '*  are  to  exist  at  all,  they  must  be  promoted  by  "  the  trade.*'  If  cycle  races 
-  are  to  be  held  on  a  scafle  large  enough,  and  with  business-mana^^ment  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  Wcrid^  July  9, 
'  *86,  p.  265) :  "  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 
spread  the  glory  of  the  wheel,  it  has  got  to  beat  the  British  records,  and  breed  the  fastest  fliers  ia 
the  world.  That  b  one  of  the  surest  ways  to  make  bicycling  universally  popular.  Well,  now, 
fliera  don't  grow  like  weeds.  They  have  to  be  carefully  cultivated  from  the  harcUest  stodc 
Somebody  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  fljring  stock  is  usually  derived  from  the  ranks  of  labor  and  active  busi- 
ness. Unless  somebody  foots  the  bills,  you  don't  have  fliers.  Whether  the  club,  or  a  manu* 
"factnrer,  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  similar  purport  b 
the  following  extract  from  fVJUeliuf^s  leading  ed.  of  SepL  15,  '86,  protesting  against  "  the  fear- 
ful waste  of  money  sunk  in  useless  prizes,"  and  against  the  lack  of  k)gic  and  of  wisdom  in  the 
-rule  which  tempts  racers  into  dishonesty  by  forbidding  them  to  compete  openly  for  cash  :  "  Cycle 
Tacing  is  a  sport  the  expenses  attending  which  are  so  heavy,  and  the  order  of  men  patronising  • 
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  derks  in  merchants',  stockbrokers',  lawyers',  and  all  kinds  of 
xiffices  ;  they  are  employed  in  warehouses,  they  are  behind  the  counter  in  shops.  Allowing  for 
-exceptions,  their  ages  range  between  17  and  24.  Their  wealth  b  not  great,  but  their  love  of 
athletic  sport,  which  is  a  national  characteristic,  prompts  them  to  go  in  for  cycle  radng;  and  our 
xootention  b  that,  thanks  to  'amateurism,'  they  do  so  under  the  woret  possible  auspices." 

At  the  sixth  annual  general  meeting  of  the  League  (July  s,  '85),  '*  a  thunderous  No  I  " 
•greeted  the  motion  of  the  Chairman  of  the  Racing  Board  that  the  word  "  amateur  "  be  stricken 
from  the  phrase  defining  the  conditions  of  memberahip.  His  own  "  aye  "  was  the  only  one 
given  in  its  support  *,  but  the  plan  which  he  favored  was  not  designed  to  abolish  class  dtstine- 
tioos  in  racing.  On  the  contrary,  he  at  the  same  time  brought  forward  what  he  called  *'  a  very 
atiff  law  "  to  protect  **  true  amateur  racers  "  against  further  competition  with  "  makera'  pro- 
fessional amateum,"  and  it  was  adopted  with  a  heartiness  which  showed  that  the  League  favored 
its  strict  enforcement.  Thb  "  stiff  law  "  was  the  definition  quoted  on  p.  624,  which  has  since 
been  in  vogue ;  and  it  b  practically  identical  with  the  one  which  professes  to  govern  the  English 
radng  men,  and  which  some  of  them  will  attempt  to  abolbh  at  the  Dec  meeting  of  the  N.  C. 
IT.  Executive.  During  the  latter  half  of  "Ss,  the  Radng  Board  collected  evidence  that  almost 
-every  prominent  prize-winner  known  to  American  wheding  had  accepted  pay  from  some 
bicyde-maker,  and  they  perfected  a  plan  by  which  they  could  fairly  expel  from  League 
membership,  as  "  professionals,"  all  such  suspeaed  ones  as  would  not  sign  a  certain  form  of 
•certificate  '*  which  mads  it  easily  possible  for  every  innocent  man  to  clear  himself."  This  plan 
vras  thoroughly  approved  by  the  Executive  Committee,  on  Feb.  si ;  and  the  board  then  issued 
their  manifesto,— printing  a  list  of  the  "  suspects"  {BulUim^  Mar.  is,  p.  314),  with  copies  of 
the  documents  which  they  had  forwarded  to  them  for  possible  signatures.  A  month  later  (Apr. 
b6,  p.  338)  those  who  failed  to  establish  their  innocence,  by  supplying  such  signatures,  wen  for- 
-malty  expelled ;  and  the  board's  report  to  the  seventh  annual  meeting  named  a8  men  whom  they 
4iad  thus  declared  "  profasakinals "  during  the  year.    Thb  report  (with  the  debate  which 


630  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

fnthwiitltTfPy  apprared  its  adoption,  and  an  attorney't  written  opinioa  that  the  acts  takes  had 
been  atrictly  I^^l  as  well  as  just)  covered  pp.  538-42  in  BulUtm  of  June  11,  *^  and  contsiawd 
many  instructive  revelations  of  the  difficulties  which  beset  "  amateurism."  It  showed  that  the 
clubs  which  are  jxximinent  as  race-managers  "  were  in  favor  of  the  amateur  rule,  bat  agia'  the 
enforoement  of  it,"  thus  :  "  One  large  club  in  Mass.,  of  good  standing  in  the  Lcagoe,  fiDed 
the  entry  list  of  a  race-meeting  without  personal  communication  with  a  single  ractag  man, — every 
one  of  these  '  amateurs '  being  entered  by  a  dealer,  and  every  entraaoe-fee  comiag  from  a  dealer^ 
tilL'*  I  suppose  that  enterprising  dubs  of  this  sort  took  all  possible  pains  to  increase  the  toweBt 
of  abuse  which  the  sporting  papers,  and  most  of  the  cycling  papers,  poured  out  upon  the  bead 
of  the  Chairman  of  the  Radng  Board,  as  a  sort  of  autocratic  monster  who  had  suddenly  faroke» 
loose  for  the  destruction  of  American  radng  intcresU.  There  was  something  very  funny  in  the 
illogical  fury  with  which  these  writers  "  pitched  into  "  a  man  who  was  simply  doing  the  doty 
demanded  by  his  official  position.  His  three  aasodates  unanimously  agreed  vrith  him  aa  to  this 
duty,  and  their  repwt  thus  formulated  the  evident  truth  about  it :  "  We  have  acted  under  the 
rules  of  the  League ;  and  any  criticism  of  our  course  reflects,  not  upon  us,  but  upon  the  ndes 
which  you  have  given  us  to  enforce."  A  reader  who  got  his  opinions  solely  from  the  cydiag 
press,  during  the  three  months  of  spring,  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  lehabiliute  all  the  swift  racers  as  "  amateurs  " ;  and  that  the  Chairman  of  the 
Racing  Board  would  be  dismissed  in  disgrace.  The  round  after  round  of  applause  which  sreeted 
him,  in  fact,  as  the  most  popular  man  of  the  occasion,  when  he  rdated  how  effectively  he  had 
done  the  exact  things  which  the  League  had  ordered  him  to  do,  showed  that  the  cydins  papas 
had  failed  to  reflect  or  to  influence  League  opinion  upon  this  matter.  They  had  merely,  aa 
trade  drcuUrs,  reflected  the  wishes  of  the  dealers,  who  disliked  to  have  their  snmmrr  advertis- 
ing interfered  with ;  but  all  their  talk  and  bluster  represented  such  a  pitiful  nunority  of  acmal 
votes  that  not  even  an  attempt  was  made  in  open  meeting  to  change  the  well-established  poiicy. 
The  League's  steadfast-sticking  to  this  honorable  line  of  conduct  gave  good  proof  oC  excep- 
tionally excellent  moral  fiber  as  a  controlling  element  in  iu  membership,  and  offered  a  notable 
contrast  to  the  vacillating  and  irresolute  action  of  the  English  N.  C.  U.,  which,  after  a  few  haif> 
hearted  attempts  to  exclude  the  "  makera'  amateurs,"  openly  pleaded  a  fear  of  the  libd-lav,  aa 
an  excuse  for  inability  to  enforce  its  own  definition  against  them.  The  League's  fiimneas  of 
course  won  it  great  req>ect,— both  from  those  who  furioudy  denounced  it  for  aot  adheixag  i» 
the  hypocritical  English  plan  (('.  #.,  classing  the  men  who  are  secretly  paid  for  radng  as  aodafly 
superior  to  the  men  who  professedly  race  for  a  livelihood),  and  from  those  who,  like  iiiyaelf» 
bdieve  it  unwise  for  the  League,  or  for  any  similar  body,  to  encourage  bitterness  and  had-hk»od 
by  setting  itself  up  as  a  sodal  censor  between  whedmen.  This  firmness  has  sluuned  even  the 
N.  C  U.  into  plucking  up  a  little  courage  for  a  new  attempt  to  assert  its  rule ;  and  if  its  raoeac 
edicts  of  ostracism  against  the  best  racers  of  England  shall  arouse  public  sentiment  for  the  abol- 
ishment of  that  role,  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  mtmM.  The  logical 
line  of  demarkation  which  should  be  insisted  on  by  those  who  favor  a  soda!  separation  between 
rich  and  poor  in  the  cycling  world  (for  that  is  all  which  thdr  contention  about  "  amateur'* 
and  "  professional "  really  amounts  to),  is  the  line  drawn  between  wheelmen  who  exhibit  them- 

.sdves  on  the  race-track,  and  wheelmen  who  do  not.  The  wealthy  ones  may  be  said  never  i» 
race,  because  so  many  other  pleasanter  paths  to  enjoyment  and  distinction  are  open  to  iheoi ; 
while  the  young  fellows  who  enjoy  making  a  display  of  their  speed  would  almost  always  prefer 
to  earn  a  little  money  as  an  ioddent  to  such  display.  Almost  every  such  one,  at  heart,  reseats 
the  injustice  of  a  rule  which  brands  him  as  a  "  professional "  if  he  competes  for  public  BM)ocy, 
or  accepts  a  private  gift  from  the  auker  of  a  machine  which  he  has  poshed  to  viclovy,--rathcr 

.  than  sonie  tmmpery  medal  or  costly  gew-gaw,  of  no  practical  nae  to  him,  and  which  he  is  fer^ 
bidden  to  sell.    To  my  own  mind,  it  is  perfectly  dear  that  the  only  legitimate  legislative  fanctioa 

-  Isr  those  bodies  which  assume  the  government  of  cycle  radng  is  to  so  dassify  coopetilon  that 
each  shall  be  encouraged  to  develop  his  highest  posdble  speed.    Raoen  of  similar  recoids  aad 


THE  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICAN  WHEELMEN.      631 

^saiperieDoe  should  be  matched  with  one  another,  and  thoee  of  evil  repute  ihoald  be  ruled  out ; 
t  BO  aodal  st^pna  ^ould  be  attached  to  any  one  for  earning  either  public  or  private  money  by 
( a  victory,  and  no  farther  nee  should  be  had  in  the  cycler's  vocabulary  for  either  of  tboea 
K«o  tireaome  epithets,  "  amateur  "  and  "  professional."  The  social  position  and  value  of  each 
iadiTidual  racer  may  well  be  left  to  the  personal  decisions  of  those  who  come  in  contact  with 
liim.  Estimates  of  character  are  formed  from  such  a  great  variety  of  circumstances  and  private 
prejudices,  that  no  one  has  a  right  to  complain  because  his  own  is  not  actively  **  recognised  " 
as  admirable  by  a  ^ven  person  or  society ;  but  I  think  complaint  may  rightly  be  made  against 
any  person  or  society  for  proclaiming  a  hardpand-fast  rule  which  tends  to  impair  a  racing-man's 
a4»cial  recognition  because  he  is  poor,— which  assumes  such  infallible  knowlec^  of  every  human 
beart  as  to  say  that  a  racer  vrfio  makes  money  from  hia  racing  must  necessarily  be  any  less 
genuine  and  enthusiastic  a  sportsman,— <iny  less  honest  and  earnest  a  competitor  for  the  glory 
of  victory, — than  the  racer  who  strives  for  the  laureUwreath  alone. 

Returning,  now,  from  the  cUgression  of  the  last  paragraph,  I  resume  my  narrative  at  the 
cad  of  the  previota  one,  which  left  the  friends  of  the  expelled  "  makers'  amateurs  "  listening  in 
dismay  to  the  roars  of  acclamation  by  which  the  League's  general  meeting  (Boston,  May  99,  '86) 
showed  that  any  attempt  to  reinstate  them  would  be  hopeless.    Yet  it  was  plain  that  if  all  ihese 
**  American  cracks  "  were  to  be  excluded  from  the  Springfield  tournament,  none  of  the  English 
makers  would  send  over  Huir  "  amateurs  "  to  give  it  an  "  international "  attractiveness.    Hence 
the  nutnager  at  once  broqght  fonh  "  the  American   Cyclists'  Union  "  as  a  device  for  getting 
around  the  difficulty,~i8  other  League  men  (from  the  Springfield,  Lynn  and  Newton  clubs) 
ooavening  with  him  in  a  parlor  of  the  Hotel  Vendome  to  give  it  recognition  and  appoint  the  fol- 
lomug  officers:   Prts.,  H.  £.  Ducker,  Springfield;    V.-Prtt.t  J.  H.  Lewis,  Boston;  Stc,t 
A.  O.  McGarrett,  Springfield;  Trttu,^  G.  F.  Barnard,  Lynn;  Ex.  Com.  (in  addition  to  the 
three  firsl^amed),  T.  A.  Carroll,  Lynn ;  W.  E.  Wentwcrth,  Newtonville.    These  officers  were 
confirmed  for  an  annual  term  by  a  later  and  more  formal  vote,  and  the  constitution  and  by-laws 
which  they  prepared  were  printed  as  a  supplement  to  the  tykeeimen^t  Gazette  for   June, 
together  with  a  set  of  racing  rules  which  were  identical  in  most  respects  with  those  of  the 
Leagtie.     "  This  association  shall  consist  of  bicycle  and  tricycle  dubs  (Sio),  unattached  amateur 
riders  (jo  c),  and  cycling  track  associations  ($ao)."    Their  respective  annual  fees  are  the  suaia 
named,  which  are  payable  on  Jan.  i  to  the  Secretary,  and  he  on  that  day  must  mail  a  voting- 
blank  to  the  two  representatives  whom  each  club  or  association  has  elected  to  the  governing 
board  (provided  all  their  dues  and  fines  have  been  paid) ;  which  representatives  shall  remail  to 
him  by  Feb.  x  signed  ballots  showing  their  choice  for  the  next  year's  officers,  and  the  result  shall 
be  announced  by  the  President  between  Feb.  is  And  Mar.  1.    The  annual  meeting  shall  be  held 
in  Mardi ;  qiedal  meetii^  on  written  application  of  8  representatives ;  and  10  representatives 
personally  present  at  any  meetii^  shall  constitute  a  quorum,  and  have  power  to  adopt  such  rules 
as  they  please  for  the  guidance  of  racing.    So  long  as  they  refrain  from  asserting  this  power, 
however,  all  such  rules  shall  be  at  the  discretion  of  the  Racing  Board,-— consisting  of  the  Sec* 
letary,  txeffide^  and  four  others,  appointed  by  the  President.    He  shall  also  appoint  a  mem- 
bership committee  of  three,  who  shall  count  and  certify  to  him  the  vote  on  Feb.  15 ;  but  they 
shall  "  leave  to  the  decision  of  the  Racing  Board  any  question  of  suspension  or  expulsion  which 
is  doe  to  the  non-amateur  standing  of  a  member."    The  Pres.  and  Sec.  may  at  any  time  take  a 
mail-vote  of  the  governing  board  upon  any  business  matter  (decision  to  rest  with  a  majority  of 
all  the  representatives) ;  and  constitutional  chai^^  may  be  made  at  the  annual  meeting,  anfl 
chaises  in  by-laws  at  any  meeting,  by  a  }  vote,— provided  a  weeks'  notice  of  every  change  has 
been  sent  to  each  member  of  the  governing  board.    The  continent  is  apportioned  into  racing 
districts  as  follows  :  (x,  '*  Eastern")  NewEnghmd  and  Canada;  (2,  "  Atlantic  ")  N.  Y.,  N.  J., 
P».,  Del.,  Md.,  D.  C,  W.  Va.,  Va.,  N.  C,  S.  C,  Ga,  and  Fla. ;  (3,  "Central ")  O.,  Mich.^ 
lDd.,ni.,  Ix,Wi8.,  Minn.,  Dak.,  Neb..  Kan.,  N.  Max.,  Col.,  Wy.;  (4, "  Southern  ")  Ala., 
MiM.,  La.,Tex.,  Ark.,Tenn.,  Mo.  and  Indian Ter.;  (s, "  Pacific  ")  Mon.,  Id.,  Wash.,  Or.,  Utah» 
Nev.,  Arix.,  Cal.    The  "diairmen  of  district  boards,"  to  whom  application  should  be  made 
by  pK>motere  of  "  race  meetings  under  A.  C.  U.  roles,"  in  those  respeaive   districts,  are  as 


633  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

folkms !  (i)  G.  H.  Burt.  Hartford,  Ct ;  (2)  W.  F.  Coddington,  Newark,  N.  J.  ;  (3)  J.  & 
Rogers,  St  Louis,  Mo. ;  (4)  W.  L.  Surprise,  Memphis,  Tenn.  j  (5)  S.  F.  Booth,  jr.,  Saa  Fm- 
daco,  Cal.  These  names  are  derived  from  a  vest-pocket  pamphlet,  prioted  by  the  SpriqgfaM 
Printing  Co.  (Aug.,  '86;  pp.  ao;  mailed  free  on  application  10  the  Sec  of  A.  C  U.>,  (ivim 
constitution  and  roles  but  no  other  information  and  no  statistics  of  membership.  My  iiiiyit 
that  the  President  supply  ms  with  the  latter,  brought  the  following  response  (Nov.  4)  :  '*  1  ap- 
pose that  if  you  count  individuals  as  members,  we  have  nearly  1000 ;  if  dubs,  about  1 1." 

The  A.  C.  U.'s  earliest  definition  of  "  amateur  "  was  designed  to  let  the  *'  makos*  hired 
men  "  compete  under  that  guise,  in  spite  of  the  League's  having  branded  them  as  *'  pralc»- 
sionals";  but  the  hopelessness  of  persuading  any  of  the  English  makers  to  defy  the  Leasee. 
by  sending  their  men  across  to  race  against  the  branded  ones  at  Springfield,  became  alaaost 
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  violaiioa 
thereof  implied  by  having  its  "  amateurs  "  compete  with  men  whom  the  ruling  govemmeiit  a 
a  foreign  country  had  declared"  professionals."  The  A.  C.  U.,  therefore,  submittinc  to  the 
inevitable,  changed  its  animus  towards  the  League  from  hostility  to  friendliness,  and,  emrly  m 
July,  adopted  a  "  strict  amateur  ryle,"  in  harmony  with  the  League's,  thus  (the  sq^ificant  addi- 
tions being  iuUcixed) :  "  The  standard  of  A.  C.  U.  membership  shall  be  determined  by  theis 
niles  :  (A)  An  amateur  is  any  person  who  has  never  tngagtdtMt  nar  tusisUd  m, 
any  rtceiHtudatkUiic  txtrcist  /or  manty^  or  wuko  has  ntvoTf  either  in  public  or  in  private,  1 
or  exhibited  his  skill  for  a  public  or  for  a  private  stake,  vr  other  rtmHturatioH,  or  for  a  parse, 
or  for  gate  money,  and  never  backed  or  allowed  himself  to  be  backed  either  in  a  public  or  private 
race.  (B)  A  ^omaUur  it  on*  who  at  amy  iim*  or  in  emy  digrte  has  violated  his  awimttmr  tf  mm4 
img^as  defined  above,  by  receivimg  expentet  or  9ther  remumraticH/or  cycle  riding  or  amy  alter 
recegn/Med  athletic  exercise,  (C)  A  professional  wheelman  is  one  who  at  any  lime  and  in  aay 
degree  has  violated  hb  amateur  orpromaUur  sUnding  as  defined  above.  To  prevent  any  oua- 
understanding  in  interpreting  the  above,  the  Union  draws  attention  to  the  following  explanaiioa^ 
A  wheelman  forfeits  his  right  to  compete  as  an  amateur  and  thereby  becomes  a  /iMwiiftai,  by 
JReceiving  expenus  or  other  remauuration  for  riding  the  cycle,  or  training  or  cat 
athers/or  cycle  racing.  A  wheelman  forfeits  his  right  to  compete  as  an  anateur 
and  thereby  becomes  a  professional,  by  (A)  Riding  the  cyde  or  engaging  in  any  ; 
exercise  for  a  money  prise  or  for  gate  money;  (B)  Competing  with,  or  paco-makiag  for, or 
having  the  pace  made  by  a  professional  in  public  or  private  for  a  prize  or  gate  money;  (Q 
Selling,  realizing  upon,  or  otherwise  turning  into  cash  any  prize  won  by  him.  (D)  The  Unioa 
recognizes  as  athletic  exerdses  all  the  sports  under  the  iurisdiction  of  the  N.  A.  A.  A.  A.  aad 
the  N.  C.  U. ,  viz. :  Running,  walking,  jumping,  pole-leaping,  putting  the  shot,  throwing  the  faans- 
mer,  throwing  of  weights,  tng-of-war,  and  also  rowing,  boxing,  sparring,  lacrosse,  polo,  roller 
and  ice  skating." 

The  new  word  thus  first  formally  proclaimed,  in  sanctioning  this  spedal  dass  of  riders,  is 
a  contraction  for  "  professional-amateur,"  which,  in  the  form  "  pro^mateur,"  is  cnrTcat  in  E»> 
gland,  though  the  commoner  term  there  is  '*  maker's  amateur,"  or  *'  M.  A."  Of  ooarse,  iht 
League  was  indifferent  as  to  how  the  *'  non-amateurs  "  should  be  classed  or  designated,  so  hag 
as  its  own  de&nhion  of  "  an  amateur  "  prevailed.  As  it  never  assumed  jnrisdictioa  of  triah 
otttside  the  regular  race-track,  many  of  iu  members  were  ghd  to  see  the  A.  C.  U.  supply  an 
aathority  for  hill-climbing  contests,  and  also  give  recognition  to  road-radng,  by  the  followi^ 
rules :  **  Road  records,  whether  made  in  open  competition  or  against  time,  roost  be  made  over  a 
course  so  laid  out  that  no  portion  of  the  road  shall  be  traverMd  more  than  twice,  provided,  how- 
ever, that  in  a  24  h.  contest  the  rider  may,  if  he  choose,  select  at  any  point  in  his  course  a  atrip 
•f  not  less  than  50  m.  and  retraverM  as  often  as  time  will  permit.  In  a  race  against  time  tkt 
competitors  must  be  accompanied  the  entire  disunce  by  a  pace-maker.  Tlie  board  of  leriew 
will  receive  aad  pass  upon  all  daims  for  records,  and,  if  required,  daimants  most  forsiiha 
statement  from  the  Judges  and  timo-keepers  of  the  meeting,  together  with  a  sworn  statemet 
from  a  eompetent  surveyor  certifying  to  the  measurement  of  the  track  or  road ;  and  rood  reesidi 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS.  633 

JBuatbe  aoconpanied by  fhe  sworn  statentntof  acompetent  MnrTeyor  astodisfanee,  orbya 
certificate  that  the  distance  has  been  neasured  by  three  certified  cyclometers,  the  lowest  meaa- 
urement  of  wbkh  has  been  taken."  (A  "professional's "  competition  or  paoe-makiof  at  hill-, 
-climbing  or  road-racing  spoils  the  statns  of  an  "  amateur  "  there,  the  same  as  on  a  race-track.) 

like  aotumn  report  of  League's  Racmg  Board  {fimlktmy  Sept.  cy,  *86,  pt.  399)  mid  7  **  Wo 
believe  there  is  room  for  the  A.  C.  U.  It  wiU  be  no  small  gain  for  our  sport  when  profenional 
racing  and  road-iacing  are  rq;n]ated ;  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  dause  be  added  to 
«ur  amateur  rule,  so  as  to  forbid  a  ipan  to  receive  his  expenses  from  a  cycle  manufacmrer  on 
pain  of  disqualification.  We  intend  soon  to  consider  a  proposition  to  alk>w  clubs  to  pay  the 
•expenses  of  a  member,  under  special  sanction  of  the  Racing  Board.  Our '  Rule  H'  forbids 
this,  without  such  sanction,  and  also  forbids  the  acceptance  of  expenses  from  a  manufacturer ; 
■amd  the  mail-vote,  just  taken,  decides  that  the  rule  shall  staad.  We  have  never  in  fact  had 
-occasion  to  expel  a  man  for  receiving  expenses  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 
*'  Role  H  "  was  made  by  the  organizers  of  the  A.  C.  U.,  asan  appeal  from  the  League's  general 
«teeting  of  May  29  to  the  sober  sense  of  its  officera  indiv%ually ;  and  the  attempt  failed  by  a 
^rote  of  78  to  a  1.  Their  attempt  to  have  the  League  officen  restore  the  expelled  "  professionals  " 
failed  by  a  vote  of  85  to  15.  It  was  nnderslood  that,  if  successful  in  these  two  attempts,  they 
"Would  abandon  the  A.  C.  U.,  and  consent  to  see  all  American  racing  managed  under  the 
•changed  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  by-laws  (85  to  is);  and  to  reverse  the  act 
of  the  League's  President  in  deposing  the  A.  C  U.'s  President  from  the  chief  consulship  of 
the  Massachusetts  Division  (87  to  9). 

The  correspondence  between  the  latter  and  the  Secretary  of  the  N.  C.  U.,  relative  to  tha 
fbrmation  of  '*  an  Internationa)  Alliance  to  control  racing  "  was  printed  in  BulUtim  (Aug.  37,  p. 
309),  tc^ther  with  letter  from  the  League's  Racing  Board  Chahrman,  assuring  the  English  rac- 
ing "  amateurs  "  that  the  League  "  wouM  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  dear  that  the  N.  C.  U*  cannot  consent  to  English  amateur  riders  competing  against 
the  'promateors'  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  makere,  did  not  please  the  American  public ;  and  press  opinions 
oeem  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  ncera  who  are  employed  to 
advertise  a  given  maker's  bicycle  upon  the  path  can  no  more  be  depended  upon  to  always  rida 
their  swiftest,  than  racere  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  **  promateur  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  "  rn>femiona]."  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- 
tude and  squareness  shall  once  again  compel  the  popular  respect 


The  Canadian  contingent  of  League  membership  when  the  first  year  ended  (1654,  May  31, 
^t)  was  greater  than  at  any  time  since,  for  Ontario  then  supplied  14  membere  and  the  Province 
of  Quebec  19.  A  pair  of  these,  one  from  each  province,  were  induded  among  the  following 
S  enthusiasts  who  met  at  Toronto,  Sept.  i>,  '8a,  and  founded  the  "  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Aaao- 


634         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

4Mtioii "  :  H.  S.  Tibbs,  Montreal ;  R.  H.  McBride,  Tomato ;  J.  &  Brierley,  St.  Thomn  ;  P. 
DoolitUe,  Aylmer ;  F.  Wettbrook,  Bnmtford;  J.  H.  Eager,  Uamiltmi;  W.  Payne,  Lcmdoa; 
and  J.  K.  Johnaton,  St.  Catberises.  All  except  ibe  fint-naoMd  ^rere  rendenta  ol  Ootsrio*  "ad 
that  province  snpplica  |  of  the  present  memberahip.  AjisooienU  were  o£Eered  in  favor  of  oesaa- 
axing  as  an  OnUrio  Asaociatioo,  and  as  a  Canadian  Division  of  the  L.  A.  W.  (moT  of  the  Eiig^idft 
C.  T.  C,  as  might  have  seemed  probable),  but  the  plan  a£  an  independent  natjonal  body,  t» 
represent  the  entire  Dominion,  finally  prevailed ;  and  a  committee  of  4  were  appointed  to  dnit  a 
constitution  and  by-laws,  and  submit  the  same  to  the  ratification  of  the  dubs.  About  a  doaen  of 
these  were  represented  in  a  meeting  of  some  50  wheelmen,  at  St.  Thomas,  SepL  11,  when  the 
committee's  work  %vas  adopted  and  a  provisional  government  was  formed  to  serve  umil  the  firat 
regular  annual  meet  and  election,  at  London,  July  a,  *83.  The  parade,  then,  attracted  3S» 
riders ;  a  year  later,  at  Toronto,  there  were  350;  the  third  meet,  in  '85,  at  Woodstock,  had  nearly 
400,—"  the  most  represenUtive  gathering  of  cyclers  and  the  largest  crowd  of  spectators  ever  seen 
at  a  wheeling  event  in  Canada  " ;  and  the  fourth,  in  '86,  at  Montreal,  was  the  greatest  aodal  aoo- 
cess  of  the  series,— though  there  were  only  165  paraders,  of  whom  the  local  dub  supplied  53,  be- 
cause the  raeeting-plaoe  was  more  distant  from  most  members'  homes  than  had  been  the  case  in 
previous  yean.  The  provisional  Resident  of  the  C.  W.  A.  was  J.  B.  Boostead,  Presw  of 
Toronto  B.  C,  and  the  Secretary-Treasurer  was  J.  S.  Brierley.  As  he  dedined  to  serve  k»ser» 
the  first  regular  election  made  by  the  directors  conferred  the  office  upon  H.  B.  Donly  (b.  Jan» 
4,  '61),  of  Sirocoe,  editor  and  proprietor  of  the  weekly  Ncrfolk  Reformer^  and  the  subsequent 
boards  have  unanimously  re-elected  him  each  year.  In  '86,  an  annual  salary  of  (aoo,  payable 
m<mthly,  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.  as,  '61),  of  Ayhner; 
'84— H.  S.  Tibbs,  of  Montreal,  and  J.  S.  Brierley  (b.  Mar.  4*  '58)>  ^  St.  Thomas;  '85— J.  S. 
Brierley,  of  St.  Thomas,  and  W.  G.  Eakins,  of  Toronto ;  '86*  W.  A.  Kam  (b.  Jane  27,  *S7)i  of 
Woodstock,  and  J.  D.  Miller,  of  Montreal 

Of  the  8  districts  into  which  Canada  is  divided  for  the  government  of  membership,  5  bdoqg 
to  Ontario.  Eich  is  entitled  to  dect  a  Chief  Consul  and  a  RepresenUtive  (also  one  additional 
Rep.  for  each  50  members  beyond  the  first  50),  on  ballou  which  moat  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  so.  He  declares  the  result  aa  soon 
as  practicable ;  and  the  new  offioera  oiganize  on  July  i,  immediately  after  the  annual  ""•^'^-g;, 
and  elect  the  Sec-Treas.,  who  becomes,  tx  officii,  a  member  of  their  board  and  of  eveiy  stand- 
ing  committee.  The  officers  must  meet  at  least  once  a  year,  not  less  than  two  mooika  bdhve  the 
annual  meeting ;  and  they  may  be  ordered  to  meet  at  any  time  by  the  Presklent,  or  by  s  mens- 
bera  of  the  board ;  and  a  quorum  of  the  board  shall  be  constituted  by  5.  Each  Chief  Consel 
shall  appoint  a  consul  for  every  town  or  village,  and  their  tenns  shall  exinre  Dec  31,  hot  tbey 
may  be  removed  for  cause  by  the  President.  He  may  also  remove  any  officer  of  theboaid  for 
misconduct,  and  he  shall  remove  any  officer  at  the  written  roqnest  of  15  members  of  hia  district 
who  chaige  misconduct  against  him.  Such  act  of  the  President  may  be  revoked  by  an  appeal  to 
the  board,  if  a  }  vote  can  be  gained  at  one  of  their  meetings,  or  if  a  majority  of  a  maiUvote  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  case  of  n 
proposed  change  in  constitution,  a  majority  of  votes  thus  cast  shall  decide.  Otherwise,  socb 
changes  must  be  made  by  }  vote,  at  the  annual  meeting ;  and,  in  either  caae,  a  fortnight's  nodoe 
must  be  given.  The  Radng  Board  shall  be  formed  of  the  Chief  Consuls,  each  having  chaige  of 
his  own  district  (its  chairman  is  now  F.  J.  Ghaedinger,  of  Montreal) ;  the  Membership  Committee 
shall  consist  of  the  Sec-Treas.  and  two  other  members  of  the  board  who  live  most  ooanaakstA 
to  him ;  the  Committee  on  Rules  and  Regulations  shall  consist  of  3  members  of  the  boaxd ;  bet 
the  Transportation  Committee  may  be  appointed  from  the  general  membership. 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS.  635 

'*  Aoy  antttenr  wfaeebnaa  in  so«l  •tandins  may  beoooM  a  mMober  of  the  C.  W.  A."  by 
pmatting  from  th«  Secretary  an  appUcatioa-blank,  and  retumiog  it,  tigaed,  with  $i  endoced, 
•ogelher  with  the  introdvctory  sigBatares  of  s  memberi,  or  of  3  reputable  dtixens  of  the  place  vk 
wvhich  he  lives.  A  provisional  certificate  is  at  once  sent  to  him,  and  if  no  protest  is  raised  within 
ai  fortnight  after  his  name  appears  in  the  monthly  "  official  organ,"  a  full-membership  card  is 
sent,  covering  the  period  until  July  i  following,— except  that  the  tickeu  of  those  who  join  after 
iiipr.  I  extend  to  July  1  of  the  next  year.  Qubs  of  5  or  more  whose  rules  require  every  dub* 
ancmber  to  join  the  C.  W.  A.  may  be  admitted  at  50  c  per  member ;  and  their  renewal  fees 
■hall  also  be  at  the  same  rate,  though  others'  renewals  cost  #■ .  Renewal  fees  are  payable 
«  year  in  advance,  on  July  i,  and  membership  ceases  in  the  case  of  those  whose  fees  are  not 
paid  by  Sept.  1.  The  parade  at  each  annual  meet  shall  be  arranged  and  commanded  by  the 
captain  of  the  oldest  local  dub ;  and  dubs  shall  have  precedence  in  the  order  of  their  joining  the 
CL  W.  A.  At  the  same  date  and  place  shall  be  held  a  race  meeting,  for  championship  prises  of 
tbe  C.  W.  A.  Its  motto  \a*'  Aptuda  Geami,^*  and  its  badge  is  a  wheel,  the  same  size  as  the 
X<eague's,  with  the  three  initials  in  relief,  but  it  has  a  maple-leaf  in  the  center,  and  above  this  a 
beaver.  Spcdmens  in  gold  (I3.50)  and  silver  {$i.y>)  may  be  had  of  the  Sec.-Treas., — who  de- 
s^;Ded  the  badge  in  Dec.,  '83,  and  has  sold  no  in  all.  ^  also  supplies,  at  40  c.  per  yd.,  the 
i^iecial  make  of  dark  gray  Halifax  tweed  which  was  adopted  for  a  uniform  in  '85,  and  which  is 
said  to  have  given  great  satisfaction  for  its  wearing  qualities  on  the  road.  My  next  chapter  (p. 
669)  explains  how  the  Canadian  tVAtwiman,  which  b^an  in  Sept.,  '83,  has  been  mailed  each 
ncmth  since  Nov.,  '85,  to  every  member  of  the  C.  W.  A., — ^the  net  cost  for  the  firu  year  being 
estimated  at  #120.  The  accounts  of  the  Sec.-Treas.,  July  i,  '86,  as  published  by  the  two  audip 
tors  whom  the  President  must  annually  appoint  to  examine  the  same,  show  $331  received  for 
membership  fees,  $ao6  for  profit  on  the  races  of  the  annual  meet,  and  a  balance  on  hand  of  $319, 
or  $48  more  than  on  July  i,  '85.  The  year's  expenditures  were  #500,  whereof  the  largest  single 
sum  went  to  the  U^^itman.  That  paper  of  Feb.,  '85,  gave  a  table  of  membership,  showing  66a 
men,  assigned  to  99  dubs  in  37  towns,  except  that  there  were  n  non-club  men.  In  iu  issue  of 
Sept.,  '86,  tbe  Sec-Treaa.  printed  a  statement  showing  27  unattached  members  in  a  total  of  5661 
aaalgned  to  the  several  districts.  The  numbers,  names,  limits,  membership,  and  officers  of  these 
stand  as  follows,— the  Chief  Consul  being  mentioned  first  in  each  case:  ist,  "Huron";  the 
counties  of  Elgin,  Middlesex,  Perth  and  Bruce  and  the  others  west  to  the  lake ;  1 13 ;  W.  M.  Begg, 
4»f  London ;  J.  S.  Brierley,  of  St.  Thomas;  R.  M.  Ballantyne,  of  Stratford,  ad,  "  Niagara  " ; 
the  counties  of  Norfolk,  Haldinund,  Welland,  Lincoln,  Wentworth,  Waterloo,  Oxford  and 
Brsnt;  138;  W.  £.  Tisdale,  of  Simcoe;  S.  Woodroofe,  of  Woodstock;  H.  C.  Goodman, 
of  St.  Catherines.  3rd,  *'  Toronto  " ;  the  counties  of  Halton,  Ped,  Wellington,  Dufferin,  Grey, 
Gimcoe,  York  and  Ontario;  9s;  C.  Langley  (b.  May  31,  '$6),  G.  H.  Orr,  H.  Ryrie,  all  of 
Toronto.  4th,  "  Midland,"  the  8  counties  of  Durham  and  Victoria  to  Frontenac,  inclusive; 
84 ;  W.  P.  Way,  R.  H.  Fenwick,  W.  E.  Foster,  all  of  Belleville,  sth,  "  Otttwa  " ;  the  remain- 
ing counties  of  Ontario ;  37 ;  F.  M.  S.  Jenkins,  W.  C.  Blythe,  both  of  Ottawa.  6th,  "  Quebec," 
the  entire  province ;  97 ;  F.  J.  Gnaedinger,  W.  G.  Ross,  both  of  Montreal.  7th,  "  Winnipeg  "  ; 
Manitoba,  the  North  West  territories  and  British  Columbia;  10;  S.  B.  Bhckhall,  J.  S. 
Hottseer,  both  of  Wmnipeg.  Sth,  "  Maritime  " ;  the  provinces  of  N.  B.,  N.  S.  and  P.  £.  I. ; 
5 ;  C.  Coster,  J.  M.  Barnes,  both  of  St.  John.  In  a  letter  to  me  of  Oct.  a6,  the  Sec.-Treas. 
says  the  membership  has  almost  reached  700  again,  and  will  increase  to  1000  in  the  qtring,  and 
lake  another  sudden  drop  in  Sept.,  '87,  because  of  failures  to  renew.  Hardly  more  than  ao 
fees  of  |i  come  to  him  in  a  year,  f  Ar  the  dub  men  pay  only  the  50  c.  rate.  Even  this  sum  will 
ensure  17  months'  membership,  if  a  man  joins  on  Mardi  31  and  declines  to  pay  a  renewal  fee. 

Tbe  C.  W.  A.  defines  an  amateur  as  "  a  person  who  never  competed  U)  in  an  open  com* 
petition,  (^  or  lor  a  slake,  (c)  or  for  public  money,  (d)  or  for  gate  money,  (0)  or  under  a  false 
■ame,  (/)  or  with  a  professional  for  a  prize,  {g)  or  with  a  professional  when  gate  money  is 
chaiged ;  "  and  its  *'  explanation  of  the  definition  "  is  verbally  identical  with  the  one  printed 
eadi  week  in  the  League's  BuUeim.  **  Rule  D  "  of  its  Radog  Board  says :  "  No  competitor  in 
r  evento  shall  accept  from  his  own  dub,  or  from  a  dub  or  any  person  promoting  sports  at 


^36  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

which  he  competes,  or  from  any  cycle  manufacturer  or  from  any  Bodi  source,  any  payment  far 
his  expenses."  The  complete  racing  rules  occupy  ii  pp.  in  the  new  **  C.  W.  A.  Guide/'  aad 
are  generally  simitar  to  those  of  the  L.  A.  W.  and  A.  C.  U.  The  constitution  and  by-laws,  as 
amended  at  the  officers'  meeting  of  Feb.  19,  '86»  and  adopted  by  mail-vote  in  May,  occupy  13 
pp.  in  the  same  book,  and  road-reports  extend  from  p.  27  to  p.  109,  folloirad  by  an  8  p.  index  ta 
all  the  towns  named,  a  5  p.  list  of  hotels  and  20  pp.  of  adv.  The  foregoing  matter  was  all  priaicd 
in  mid-autumn  of  '86  (ed.  1250),  and  the  editors  were  about  to  print  the  16  pp.  of  introductiou 
(containing  lists  of  consuls,  free  r.  r.  lines,  wheel  literature,  and  the  like)  and  put  the  comptete 
book  in  the  members'  hands  by  the  end  of  Oct.,  when  a  mail-vote  ordered  that  its  puUicatioa 
should  be  postponed  until  Mar.,  '87,  on  the  theory  that  it  could  then  be  used  more  efifectivdy 
for  attracting  recruits.  A  new  book  at  the  opening  of  the  riding  season,  when  most  of  the  new 
men  join,  is  believed  to  be  a  better  magnet  for  membership  than  an  old  one.  In  a  previoas 
chapter,  I  have  described  (p.  330)  and  made  many  extracts  from  the  excellent  sst  ed.  of  tUs 
guide  ('84) ;  and  no  one  should  think  of  attempting  to  ride  in  Canada,  without  first  aen^ng  50  c 
4o  the  Sec.-Treas.,  at  Simcoe,  Out.,  and  procuring  a  copy  of  its  enbirged  and  improved  auocesaoE. 
The  question  of  preparing  a  2d  ed.  of  the  road-map  is  still  under  discussion  (Nov.,  '86)1 

"  Minor,"  as  an  adjective  applied  to  a  club  "  the  size  of  which  the  annals  of  sport  havs 
never  previously  known,"  might  be  resented  as  misapplied,  were  I  not  to  restrict  its  applicatioa 
to  the  American  Division  thereof,  which  I  believe  numbers  little  more  than  800  men.  At 
Harrogate,  Eng.,  on  May  5,  VS>  was  organised  the  ''Bicycle  Touring  Qub'*;  and  I  think 
that  five  years  elapsed  before  the  first  word  in  its  title  suffered  the  regrettable  change  to  "Cj^ 
dists*.  "  It  is  now  known  and  alluded  to,  in  every  part  of  the  cycling  worM,  only  as  **  C  T. 
C."  ;  and  its  former  initials  also  had  popular  vogue  instead  of  its  name.  Hardly  too  men  be- 
longed to  it  in  Mar.,  '79,  when  I  first  mounted  the  bicycle,  though  the  ist  and  ad  eds.  of  its 
*'  hand-book  '*  appeared  in  July  and  Oct.  of  that  year,  and  its  note^se  MmtMfy  Cireuimr  bft> 
gan  to  be  sent  to  members  as  early  as  Oct.,  '7'*  '^'^  number  of  these,  on  Dec  31,  "84,  had 
increased  to  16,625,  whereof  America  supplied  534,  or  nearly  half  of  all  outside  the  United 
Kingdom  (1106),  Germany  ranking  ad,  with  177;  Austria  3d,  with  80,  and  France  4th,  widi 
<mly  52.  A  year  later  the  "  outside  '*  contingent,  which  is  supposed  to  give  an  "  international " 
«olor  to  the  C.  T.  C,  had  increased  to  1600,  whereof  the  U.  S.  supplied  669  and  all  other  coan> 
tries  931, — the  chief  quotas  standing  thus:  Germany,  300;  Austria- Hungary,  115;  Holland, 
71;  France,  60;  Canada,  56;  Denmark,  23 ;  Belgium,  21.  The  government  of  the  chib  is 
vested  in  a  Council  of  about  125  men,  known  as  Representative  Coundlors  and  Chief  Cbosals,^ 
the  latter  being  appointed  by  the  former,  who  are  elected  by  the  37  Divisions.  A  Division  wfakk 
has  less  than  200  members  can  elect  i  R.  C. ;  200  to  399  members,  a  R.  Cs ;  400  to  799  mem- 
hen,  3  R.  C.'s;  800  to  1499  members,  4  R.  C.'s;  1500  to  2499  members,  5  R.  Cs;  asooto 
3499  membsrs,  6  R.  C.'s ;  3500  to  4499,  7  R.  C.'s,  and  so  on.  At  the  end  of  '85,  the  largest 
Divisions  were  the  nth  (Middlesex,  Essex  and  Suffolk,  3687)  and  tath  (Kent,  Soirey  and 
.Sussex,  3275),  which  divide  the  city  of  London  between  them  and  include  the  s.  e.  comer  of 
£ng1and,  from  Yarmouth,  its  easternmost  town,  to  Portsmouth,  on  the  s.  coast.  The  oombmcd 
tnembership  of  the  two  (6962)  comprised  much  more  than  |  that  of  the  entire  C  T.  C.,  whidk  wai 
reported  as  19,053 >  at  the  annual  meeting  of  May  8,  '86,  when  the  Secretary  said  he  *'  earpected 
it  would  regain  the  so,ooo  by  June,  and  hoped  it  might  reach  25,000  by  Dec"  The  Nov.  G^ 
sttU  gave  the  accessions  of  '86  thus :  Jan. ,  333 ;  Feb. ,  688*,  Mar. ,  97a ;  Apr.,  970  ;  May,  995 ; 
June,  1044;  July,  927;  Aug.,  658;  Sept.,  347;  Oct,  192;  Nov.,64,-~a  total  (»f  7190  new  nea- 
bers  in  the  ii  months;  and,  as  there  were  15,095  renewals  from  '85,  an  endre  membership  of 
S2,a85.  The  Divisions  ranking  next  in  sise  to  the  two  which  surround  London,  are  the  4tk 
<Lancashire,  1510)  and  3d  (Yorkshire,  1383),  which  lie  well  to  the  n.,  and  oonuin  Liverpool  and 
I«eds.  The  14th  Div.  inclodes  the  s.  w.  comer  of  England ;  the  15th  and  f6th,  Wales;  the 
iTth  toaoih,  Ireland;  the  sisi  to  STth,  Scotland ;  the  28(h,  the  U.  S. ;  the  a9th,  all  the  itatof 
the  world  except  the  7  couatries  which  comprise  the  other  foreign  Divisions :    joth,  Franea; 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS.  637- 

sx«,  Germany;  jad,  Belgium;  ssci,  Holland;  ylSx^  Auatria^Hoagary ;  ssth,  Canada;  36ch^ 
DcBouurk;  37th,  SwiuerlaikL  *'  It  ia  desinble  thai  K.  Ca  ihall  reaide  within  the  iimitaof  tha 
Divkioos  they  represent;  and  that  their  residencea  shall  be  widely  separated,  in  the  case  of 
Dtvisiona  having  nH>re  than  one  R.  C;  but  noU'^esidenGe  in  a  particuUr  district  shall  not  dia> 
qualify  a  candidate  for  electioa  there,  nor  for  service  as  its  R.  C*  The  hand-book  of  Apr.^ 
^  showed  that,  in  fact,  residenU  of  Great  Britain  serve  as  R.  C's  for  5  of  the  foreign  Divs.^ 
and  that  for  the  other  5  (including  U.  S.  and  Canada)  none  had  then  been  elected  or  appointed. 
"  The  number  of  R.  C's  to  which  the  several  Divisions  are  entitled  shall  be  set  out  in  each 
Jan.  GautUi  and  any  member  may  be  proposed  and  seconded  for  R.  C,  by  two.  members  of 
any  Division,  who  shall  file  with  the  Secretary  (before  Feb.  7,  on  a  blank  obtained  from  him)  the 
BMne,  address  and  description  of  such  member,  with  his  written  statement  that  he  is  prepared 
to  wndertake  the  duties  of  R.  C,  if  elected.  The  March  GtuttU  shall  contain  a  separate  vot* 
ing-paper  for  each  Division,  naming  the  candidates  who  seek  its  soffiragea.  Each  member  may 
vote  for  aa  many  R.  C's  as  the  voting-paper  shows  his  Division  is  entitled  to ;  but  the  vote  shall 
be  invalid  unleaa  the  Secretary  receives  the  paper  within  8  daya  after  its  original  despatch  by 
him.  The  votes  shall  be  counted  by  5  scrutineers,  appointed  by  the  Council,  to  whom  they  shall 
fcport  the  result.  The  R.  C.*s  thus  chosen  shall  come  int(Affice  Apr.  1  and  form  a  provisional 
Coondl,  whose  first  meeting  shall,  if  possible,  appoint  a  Chief  Consul  for  each  Division.  It  ia 
distinctly  provided  that  they  shall  be  at  liberty  not  to  re-appoint  any  C.  C.  who  may  previously 
have  held  office ;  but  any  C  C  so  superseded  shall  have  power  to  appeal  to  the  next  general 
■lecting.  The  completed  Council  (R.  C's  and  C.  C's)  shall  appmnt  any  gentlemen  of  eminence 
lo  the  posta  of  President  and  Vice-President  of  the  C  T.  C,  for  an  annual  term ;  and  shall  theni 
elect  from  their  own  number  a  Chairman  and  Vice-Chatrman  of  the  Council,  and  also  (from  their 
•WB  number  or  from  the  members  at  large)  an  Honorary  Treasurer  of  the  C  T.  C ,  aa  follows  i 
Candidates  for  either  post  may  be  nominated  by  two  members  of  the  Council  (on  forms  to  be  had 
of  the  Secretary,  and  to  be  returned  to  him  by  May  1) ;  and  a  voting-paper,  naming  all  such  candi- 
dates, shall  be  sent  to  each  of  the  Coundl  by  May  7,  and  be  returned  by  May  14  to  the  Secro* 
taiy,  who  shall  keep  such  papers  sealed  until  the  Council-meeting  immediately  preceding  the 
annttal  general  meeting.  He  shall  then  hand  them  to  the  Chairman  of  the  Council,  who  shall 
cause  them  to  be  counted  and  the  result  forthwith  to  be  declared  to  the  meeting.  The  three 
oAoers  so  diosen  shatQ  serve  from  the  end  of  the  annual  general  meeting  to  the  end  of  the  an- 
onal  general  meeting  next  ensuing.  This  shall  be  heki  each  May,  at  a  place  and  date  fixed  by 
th^CoundL  They  shall  also  fix  a  place  and  date  for  a  half-yeariy  general  meeting,  and  may 
call  an  additional  one  at  any  time.  On  requiaition  of  aoo  members,  the  Secretary  ahall  call  a 
•pedal  general  meeting,  at  place  and  time  requested,  provided  this  be  not  less  than  10  daya  after 
■aoal  date  of  issue  of  Mmtkfy  (kuetU,  in  which  particulars  of  the  meeting  and  namea  of  tha 
wveners  shall  be  announced ;  and  the  Secretary  may  call  a  meeting  of  the  Council  at  any  time, 
on  14  days*  notice.  Regular  meetings  thereof  shall  be  held  on  the  second  Satunlay  of  each 
■MBth.  The  quorum  at  Coundl-meeliogs  shall  be  5,  and  at  general  meetings  it  shall  be  50 1 
and  precedence  in  taking  the  chair  shall  be  in  this  order :  President,  Vice-President,  Chairman, 
Viee^liaiTman,  according  aa  those  officers  are  in  attendance.  In  case  one  of  them  dies  or  re* 
aigns,  the  Coundl  may  either  order  a  new  election  or  appoint  a/rv  Um,  deputy.  If  a  Di virion 
iaQa  to  elect  a  R.  C  to  whom  it  is  entitled,  or  if  ito  growth  entitles  it  to  an  additional  R.  C 
after  the  election,  the  Council  may  fill  the  vacancy  by  appointment.  They  ahall  have  power  to 
remove  any  officer  by  a  |  vote  of  those  present  at  any  Coundl  meeting,  provided  the  Seoctary 
haa given  7  daya'  written  notice  of  their  intended  action  to  the  officer  concerned;  but  he  may 
appeal  to  the  next  general  meeting.  They  shall  appoint  the  Secreury  at  such  salary  and  upotf 
■ncfa  terms  and  conditions  aa  they  may  think  proper  [the  preaent  salary  is  I1500J ;  and  they  may 
atoo  appoint  an  Honorary  Secreury  for  the  conducting  of  any  spedal  Uhsinesa^  They  may  expel 
a  nwmber  who  oeasca  to  be  an  amateur,  and  they  shall  expd  any  member  who  fails  to  re«gn  after 
being  so  requested,  when  such  request  is  based  upon  the  examination  of  charges  which  Jifava 
beta  btooght  against  him  in  writing,  by  any  two  Councilors  or  any  other  ten  members  The  lend- 
iagof  ■ambanhip  ticket  shall  be  suffident  causa  for  expulsion ;  and  tha  Coundl  ara  aho  boani 


638  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

to  invtatigate  the  case  of  any  member  who  is  ezpelkd  from  a  cycling  or  athletic  dvlk 
men  may  appeal  to  the  general  meeting.  Members'  annual  dues  (63  c)  are  payable  in  1 
Jan.  1 ;  and  the  fact  of  non-payment  by  Feb.  i  puts  an  end  to  membership.  The  2 
must  then  forward  to  the  C.  C  of  each  Division  a  list  of  the  names  and  addresses  of  all  i 
in  that  Division  whose  membership  has  thus  lapsed ;  and  he  must  also  cause  to  be  printed,  ia 
book  form,  Division  lists  of  the  entire  renewed  membership  of  the  dob.  CThe  '85  book  hsd  7* 
pp.  and  about  14,000  names,  whereof  the  U.  S.  supplied  nearly  400.]  He  must  admit  £—— i**^^- 
ately  to  the  GaaetU  any  document  about  club  business  which  is  signed  by  50  members.  He 
must  receive  all  moneys  and  deposit  the  same  with  the  dub  bankers ;  must  attend  all  1 
of  the  Council,  and  conduct  all  club  business  under  their  direction ;  and,  in  case  of  1 
inability  to  act,  may  appoint  a  member  as  deputy,  subject  to  their  approval.  The  Hon.>l 
urer  shall  make  all  payments,  under  direction  of  the  Council's  Finance  Committee ;  and  Ins 
accounts  and  those  of  ihe  Secretary  shall  be  audited  at  least  once  a  year,  by  a  profeaaaooal 
accountant  engaged  by  the  Coundl ;  and,  after  confirmation  by  them,  shall  be  printed  in  the 
GoMtUf  prior  to  the  annual  meeting.  Chief  Consols  shall  have  power  to  appoint  in  tfadr 
respective  Divisions,  Consub,  pro  Um.  Consuls,  and  C.  T.  C  hotels,  and  to  revoke  sadk 
appointments;  but  any  one  who  flels  i^grieved  by  such  action  may  appeal^ to  the  Coondl 
through  the  Secretary ;  and  nn  pro  tern.  Consul  shall  receive  a  fuU  appointment  until  he  has  been 
seen  and  approved  of  by  a  member  of  the  Council  or  by  the  Secretary.  No  alteratioD  can  be 
made  in  the  club  rules,  except  at  a  general  meeting,  after  notice  of  such  alteration  has  been  given 
in  the  Gawette."  This  final  rule  (the  70th)  dedares  also  that  the  dab's  regulations,  **  shall, 
as  far  as  possible,  be  held  to  apply  to  lady  members,"  <A  whom  there  are  "  many  hoadreda.** 

Foreign  cyclers  are  by  the  C  T.  C.  "  accepted  as  amateurs  according  to  the  rules  in  foice 
in  their  own  country,  provided  they  have  not  at  any  time  been  guilty  of  breaches  of  the  amateeg 
laws  of  any  country  when  riding  in  such  country  " ;  ^t  "  the  definition  applicable  to  nalivea  of, 
or  residents  in,  the  United  Kingdom,  shall  be  that  ot  the  N.  C.  U.,  and  a  copy  thereof  shall  be 
printed  upon  the  back  of  each  form  of  application  for  membership."  This  definition  is  aa  iol* 
lows  :  "An  amateur  is  one  who  has  never  engaged  in,  nor  assisted  in,  nor  taught  any  athletic 
exercise  for  money,  or  other  remuneration ;  nor  knowingly  competed  with  or  against  a  prafe»> 
sional  for  a  prize  of  any  description,  or  in  public  (except  at  a  meeting  specially  sanctioned  bjr  ibe 
Union).  To  prevent  misunderstanding  in  interpreting  the  above,  the  Union  draws  attentioa  to 
the  following  explanation  :  A  cyclist  ceases  to  be  an  amateur,  and  thereby  becomes  a  preieo- 
sional  bj^a)  Engaging  in  cycling,  or  any  other  athletic  exercise,  or  personally  teaditng,  train- 
ing, or  coaching  any  other  person  therein,  either  as  a  means  of  obtaining  a  livelihood,  or  for  a 
staked  bet,  a  money  prise,  or  gate-money ;  (#)  Competing  with,  or  pace-making  for,  or  having 
rtie  pace  made  by  a  professifHial,  or  peraon  under  sentence  of  sospendon,  in  public,  or  for  a 
prise ;  (<r)  Selling,  realising  upon,  or  otherwise  turning  into  cash,  any  prise  won  by  him ;  i^ 
Accepting,  directly  or  indirectly,  any  remuneration,  compensation,  or  expenses  whatever,  frasa 
a  cyde  manufacturer,  agent,  or  other  person  interested  in  the  trade  or  sport,  for  cyde  ridfaig.'* 
The  Secretary  sends  application-forms  gratis  to  all  who  ask  for  them,  and  each  candidate  when 
he  returns  to  the  Secretary  a  signed  form  must  enclose  with  it  an  entranee  fee  of  as  c,  in  add>> 
tion  to  the  62  c.  which  will  pay  for  membership  until  Dec.  31  ensuing.  If  he  be  not  a  mcaibrr 
of  a  recognised  amateur  cyding  chib,  he  must  obtain  the  signature  of  two  introducers  who  are 
officers  in  such  a  club,  or  members  of  the  C.  T.  C,  or  from  one  introdooer  who  beloags  to  the 
Coundl.  In  the  case  of  the  American  and  other  outside  Divisions,  it  is  convenient  to  have  die 
Chief  Consul  supply  such  signature,  and  thns  the  applications  and  cash  are  commonly  sent  by 
him  directly  to  the  Secretary.  All  names  thus  reaching  the  latter  by  the  35th  of  eadi  nonih, 
are  printed  in  GaattU  one  wedc  later,  and  a  copy  thereof  is  mailed  to  each  candidate ;  and  each 
one  agahist  whom  no  member  makes  an  objection  within  a  week  to  the  Secretary,  is  thea  dedared 
dected,  and  receives  from  the  Sec  a  signed  membership  card,  and  a  copy  of  the  70  raJea,  wUdi 
he  has  promised  in  advance  to  obey. 

My  next  chapter  gives  an  account  of  the  Giuttte,  wfaidi  is  sent  to  eadi  member,  and  of  das 
dab^e-  other  pnblkations  (see  vp-  6Sr-9i>;  and  I  have  already  quoted  its  anai«aaMali  aboai 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS.  639 

trmnftportation  (p.  yfii  sad  Koteb(pw  607X  Its  miifonn  isof  a  special  makeolgny  cloth,  "  upon 
^vhich  BO  bnudinf,  epanlottes  or  trimmingB  shall,  under  any  curcumstanoes,  be  penniaaible  " ; 
and  "  no  local  dub  shall  adopt  this  onifom  as  their  own  unless  all  the  members  join  the  C  T. 
C  "  Of  ooorse,  no  one  is  obliged  to  purchase  either  uniform  or  bodge,  but  members  are  re- 
qjOfBoted  to  wear  the  latter  upon  the  left  breast  The  bodge  in  use  for  7  years  or  more  was  a 
simple  shield  of  silver  or  salveriilate,  with  the  club's  name  spelled  upon  it  in  square,  raised  let- 
ters. Copies  in  gold  were  also  made,  for  use  on  the  scarf  or  watch-chain.  Badges  for  Consuls 
had  red  enamel ;  those  for  the  Council  had  blue  enamel,  with  "  R.  C."  or  "  C.  C."  added  in 
Sih ;  and  that  for  the  Secretary  had  green  enamel  and  gilt.  "  The  Octopus  "  thus  announced 
a  change  (iVhtdingj  Sept.  8,  '86) :  "  The  C.  T.  C.  mountain  has  been  in  labor,  and  has  pro- 
duced the  most  ridiculous  mouse,  in  the  shape  of  a  badge,  that  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  see. 
After  all  the  talk,  froth,  and  gas  that  appeared  in  the  GnattUf  I  expected  somethii^  very  spe- 
cial ;  but,  if  imiution  is  the  sincerest  form  of  flattery,  the  L.  A.  W.  ought  to  feel  proud  over 
this  exact  fac-simile  of  iu  design."  Three  weeks  bter,  the  same  writer  added :  "  it  is  a  mopt 
truly  ludicrous  thing.  Ever  smce  Oct,  '84f  Messrs.  Tanner,  Hills,  and  R.  £.  Phillips  have  been 
considering  the  question  of  the  badge ;  and  now,  after  nearly  two  years,  they  present  a  design 
which  has  been  duly  regbtered,  and  which  is  neither  artistic  or  nove],--being  simply  a  wheel,  with 
three  wings  upon  it,  dangling  by  chains  fnrai  a  bar.  The  act  of  *  invention '  could  not 
have  taken  very  long,  for  the  L.  A.  W.  design  has  been  almost  exactly  copied,  and  the  '  patent- 
ing '  could  not  have  been  a  mammoth  undertaking,  for  Mr.  P.  is  a  patent-ogent  of  experience : 
bat  the  committee  seem  to  fancy  that  they  have  done  something  very  clever,  as  this  is  what  they 
nay  about  themselves  and  their  work :  '  In  conduding  our  report,  we  would  point  out  that  the 
matter  we  have  had  to  deal  with  has  been  one  of  no  ordinary  caliber,  and  has  received  at  our 
hands  an  amount  of  attention  in  accord  with  its  importance.'  "  With  similar  complacency,  the 
ed.  of  Gamitt  remaiics  (Oct.,  p.  58a) :  "  None  of  the  many  comments  called  out  by  the  wood- 
cotaof  the  badge,  in  our  last  issue,  can  be  considered  other  than  satisfactory.  It  is  generally 
oocweded  that  the  new  article  is  graceful,  symbolical  and  appropriate,  and  there  appears  to  be 
little  doubt  as  to  its  ultimate  popubrity."  He  then  explains  that,  as  the  certificate  of  member- 
ship (changed  in  color  or  design  each  year)  is  to  be  framed  in  the  wheel  and  show  only  on  the 
reverse  side,  the  badge  is  necessarily  swung  on  chains  from  a  bar-brooch,  "  to  avoid  the  trouble 
of  removing  it  from  the  coat  whenever  a  member  desires  to  prove  his  identity  at  a  hotel  head- 
qnarters,— which  necessity  arises  on  an  average  a  or  3  times  a  day."  This  little  areolar  ticket 
will  hereafter  be  issued  to  «tf  members,  as  a  receipt  for  their  fees,  instead  of  the  huger  angohu' 
one  of  former  jrears,  but  no  one  will  be  obliged  to  endose  it  in  the  bodge-locket,  if  he  prefers 
some  lesB  secure  mode  of  carrying  it,  whenever  he  wishes  to  prove  that  *'  its  details  are  read- 
ily dedpherable  "  by  country  inn-keepers. 

The  "  burning  question  "  of  C.  T.  C.  hotel  arrangements  is  discussed  by  no  less  than  ai 
correspondents  in  thb  same  Oct.  GtwtU,  occupying  a  sixth  of  iU  space  (pp.  39o-97>  S  and  all 
that  I  have  said,  in  Chap.  35,  condemning  the  childish  folly  of  every  such  petty  phin  for  "  get- 
ting  something  for  nothing,"  is  amply  confirmed  by  theb  remarks.  "  We  are  not  tiU  paupers," 
mys  Edward  Easton,  "  and  I  can't  understand  how  it  was  ever  expected  to  get  members  of  all 
daases,  and  of  different  purses,  to  patronize  the  same  hotels.  Let  C.  T.  C.  men  tuMM  n»  rt- 
AKikm,  Let  the  present  phin  be  entirely  abolished,  and  a  list  of  recommended  houses  nb- 
etituted.  Let  the  C.  T.  C.  issue  a  paper  of  suggestions  for  the  guidance  of  those  landknds  who 
wish  to  cater  for  its  support;  and  let  every  such  bmdksrd  exhibit  his  tariff  (indosive  of  afl 
charges)  where  it  can  be  readily  seen  on  entering  his  hotd."  Mr.  E.  ^  notions  thus  very  nearly 
coincide  with  my  own  recoramendatkms  as  to  League  policy,  but  he  seems  as  unable  as  the  other 
so  writers  to  realise  that  the  only  dignified  and  proper  function  of  the  C  T.  C,  in  reference  to 
.  hotels,  is  that  of  persuaduig  their  owners  to  give  special  wdcome  to  off  who  tiavd  with  cydes, 
and  not  to  its  own  roeoBbers  simply.  He  resents,  however,  the  sacrifice  of  self-respect  implied 
fai  hoggfing  over  a  few  pence  with  boorish  publicans  *'  to  whom  one  must  prove  his  member- 
ahii^''  and  tries  to  gel  around  the  difilculty  by  thb  impracticable  suggestion  :  "  It  should  not 
be  left  to  the  landlord  to  define  the  C.  T.  C.  memben,  bntthe  memhen themsdveo sboidd  boy- 


640  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

cott  thoM  who  do  not  show  their  current  certificate. "  Another  cnmphinint  alno  '* « 
whether  it  is  the  C  T.  C.*8  niiaaion  to  atteinfit  lowering  the  too^ear  hotd-rates  oC  ] 
since  this  is  more  lilcely  to  be  done  by  the  excellent  coffee-taverns,  rapidly  aprioging  iq>  aaJ 
improving  in  every  direction/'  and  says  :  "  What  the  late-and-weary  tonriat  wants,  is  to  know 
beforehand  of  some  decent  inn  where  he  can  find  a  welcome  for  himsdf  and  room  for  hia 
machine.  I  altogether  object  to  going  in  forma  poH^erh^  ticket  in  hand,  to  the  hotel  bar  (o 
pied  by  balf-a^osen  loungers,  smoking  and  drinking),  and  then  having  to  inscribe  my 
addreM,  and  number  in  a  big  book,— the  operation  to  be  repeated  at  every  fresh  bolcL 
savors  too  much  of  the  foreign  police  system.  One  of  the  diarms  of  travel  is  to  pay  yoor  way 
vnchallenged  and  unnamed.  Our  C.  T.  C  plan  falls  between  two  stools.  On  the  one  lupad, 
when  a  hotel  reduces  iu  rates  at  all  to  accept  the  tariff,  it  does  so  not  very  gradoasly ;  aad,  if 
it  does  not  lake  it  out  of  you  in  other  ways,  shoves  you  in  a  comer.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
majority  of  decent  country  hotels  chaige  less  than  the  tariff,  until  injudidoos  consuls  force  it  ca 
to  them.'*  Other  writers  relate  how  the  cheap  hotels,  in  little  places  «rtiere  the  C  T.  C  meicly 
"  recommends  "  instead  of  **  appointing  "  them,  quickly  raise  their  rates  ("  for  C  T.  C.  oiea 
only  ")  to  match  the  tariff  of  the  "  appomted  "  inns.  ''  Hence,  hundreds  avoid  entering  a  C 
T.  C.  house,  when  touring,  because  of  the  alleged  high  chaiges."  "As  tastes  differ,  and  appe- 
tites differ,  1  fear  this  discussion  will  have  no  lasting  resulu ;  but  1  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  honaea.  la 
asking  new  men  to  join,  I  never  mention  the  tariff  among  the  advantages,  for  I  have  fowoMl  that 
that  information  makes  a  bad  impression.  Let  us  put  an  end  to  this  arnuagement  for  giatai- 
tottsly  advertising  these  houses."  "  For  Ireland,  the  tariff  is  altogether  onsoitable,  as  raoat  of 
the  hotel  rates  are  far  below  it,  and  I  rarely  produce  my  tidiet  when  touring,  becauae  it  woold 
only  lead  to  increased  expense.'*  This  last  is  from  R.  J.  Mecredy,  ed.  Irak  Cyciitt ^  AUdu^ 
Other  writers  testify  as  to  the  other  side  of  the  dilemma,  thus  ;  "  It  is  notorious  that  few,  if 
any,yfrc/-r/acr  hoteb  will  accept  our  tariff ;  for  this  is  practically  a  '  commercial '  tariff,  and  we 
cannot,  therefore,  expect  better  accommodation  than  the  first-dass  cpmmmrcuU  botds  aAad. 
The  suggestion  that  all  hotels  should  agree  to  allow  our  members  a  reduction  of  say,  ao  per  oeoL 
on  thdr  usual  chaiges  is  evidently  unworkable,  for  it  is  very  unusual  to  find  an  hotel  in  this  ooonliy 
which  exhibits  a  fixed  scale  of  charges,  and  they  are  not  likely  to  b^n  to  do  ao  to  please  die  C 
T.  C.  In  such  a  case  the  discount  would  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  avcrided,  and  as  leganb 
comfort  and  quality  of  food,  most  of  them  might  well  have  written  over  their  doors,  *  Huaemti 
0gni speranaay  voi ch^etdraU.*  The  few  good  ones  only  prove  their  general  unsatisfaclarincaa. 
*  *  At  one  of  the  largest  towns  in  Kent,  we  were  given  '  garoey  *  chops  for  supper,  and  oar 
bedrooms,  at  the  top  of  the  house,  had  not  even  decent  doors  to  them,  while  the  beds  thenaeives 
had  plenty  of  vermin.  *  *  I  have  noticed  that  C.  T.  C  hotels  take  it  cmt  of  one  in  the  way 
of  drinks,— charging  10  c  for  milk-and-soda,  instead  of  4  c.  charged  at  tempeiance  inns."  **At 
the  very  last  cycling  inn  I  slept  at  my  experience  included  the  foltowing :  A  very  highuBnglKng 
chop  for  tea ;  a  shabby  attic-bedroom,  with  a  rough  door  worthy  of  a  cottage  outhonae,  and  a 
diUpidated  blmd  which  would  n*t  pull  down,  a  spedmen  of  >M2rjr  trrUans  stodc  00  the  tallow  of 
my  uncleaned  bedroom  candlestick,  presumably  by  a  former  customer,  and  a  sleepless  night  fram 
the  combined  attack,  in  front  and  rear,  of  the  animal  which  Mark  Twain  calla  the  '  dianois.' 
It  is  true  that  this  was  at  a  '  recommended '  inn,  a  term  which  I  nndentood  was  api^ied  to  thoae 
inns  in  small  towns  which  were  the  best  in  the  place,  but  where  the  chargea  were  bdow  the  tariff. 
This  particular  inn,  however,  was  ( 1)  by  no  means  the  best  in  the  place,  and  (a)  it  charged  very 
scrupulously  the  full  uriff.  This  is  my  last,  and  I  must  admit,  my  worst,  experience,  bett  I  have 
had  others  which  approximate  to  it.  I  feel  sane  that  this  fixed  tariff  ia  acting  injnriooaly  by  rais- 
ing the  changes  for  cvdists,  inasmuch  as  the  smaller  village  and  madside  inns  get  to  know  of  it, 
and  try  to  brine  their  dtarges  up  to  it  directly  a  cydist  appears  on  the  premiiea.  The  ■ii|j>ntion 
I  would  make  is  this :  In  the  hand-book,  frive  the  names  of  mli  the  comfbrtable-inna  with  their 
tariffs  distinguish  with  a  star  those  spedally  worthy  of  coromendatioo,  as  Badelcar  dflea;  and 
pMnt  all  thoae  ra  italics  which  are  willing  to  make  ao  per  cent,  reduction**' 


MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS.  641 

Reviewing  the  testimony  of  "  the  immense  number  of  letters  received,— the  great  majority 
of  thera  averse  to  the  present  system," — under  the  impulse  of  a  previous  correspondent's  thor- 
oughgoing condemnation  of  it,  the  GaattUi*s  editor  admits  that  "  he  was  wrong  in  believing  the 
matter  would  be  voted  a  mere  sea-serpent  discovery,'*  and  he  says,  with  wonderful  sublimity  : 
"  The  Coundl  have  already  decided  that  this  dissatisfaction  must,  as  far  as  possible,  be  removed. 
In  their  opinion,  the  remedy  lies  in  the  adoption  of  a  second  tariff,  applicable  to  the  houses  now 
on  the  recommended  list."  Thb  shows  that  the  penny-wise,  pound-foolish  policy  is  to  be  per- 
sisted in,  after  the  fatuity  of  it  has  been  exposed, — the  only  attempted  reform  being  an  endeavor 
to  prevent  the  meanest  inns  of  England  from  cheating  their  "  C.  T.  C.  ticket  beggars  "  by 
charging  the  "  full  tariff"  which  has  been  laboriously  arranged  with  those  other  inns  that  are 
a  trifle  less  "  cheap  and  nasty  "  I  The  executive  feebleness  of  a  government  which  thus  potters 
along  in  a  rut,— from  lack  of  leaders  intellectually  competent  to  grasp  the  idea  that  a  radical 
change  is  the  only  cure  for  the  troubles  and  contempt  brought  upon  itself  by  meddling  with  a 
task  beyond  its  powers,— is  pitiable  enough  ;  but  language  fails  me  when  I  try  to  express  my 
notion  of  the  folly  of  those  busybodies  who,  in  this  country,  ignorantly  plead  "  the  C.  T.  C.  ex- 
ample "  as  a  reason  for  their  lamentable  endeavor  to  commit  the  League  to  a  similar  policy. 
That  example  is  really  a  most  dreadful  warning  against  departing  from  our  wise  and  generous 
American  plan  of  advertising  those  hotels  which  are  "the  best,"  and  which  give  their  best  treat- 
ment to  touring  wheelmen,  without  regard  to  "rates."  The  editors  of  Wkeeling  supply  me 
with  this  final  bit  of  testimony  (Sept.  6,  '86)  :  "  The  countless  scribes  of  the  Gazette  are  in  full 
cry  upon  the  tari£E  question,  and  how  long  they  have  suffered  in  silence  i^evidenced  by  the  bitter 
wail  which  they  are  now  raising.  Our  own  principle  in  connection  with  C.  T.  C.  headquarters 
has  been  always,  *  Avoid  them  I '  Last  year  we  went  to  the  C.  T.  C.  house  at  Hastings,  and 
upon  mentioning  the  club's  name  were  conducted  to  the  roof — the  inner  side  of  it  certainly,  but 
still  the  roof — ^though  the  house  was  half  empty.  The  cyclist  is  regarded  at  many  of  these 
bouses  as  a  dangerous  speculation.  He  may  break  up  the  home  or  play  the  key-bugle  in  the 
silent  watches  of  the  night,  or  he  may  not.  And  your  hotel-keeper  is  no  respecter  of  persons. 
The  generic  title  *  cyclist '  covers  '.Arry  and  Algernon." 

"Co-operative  Tailoring  Concern"  was  an  interpretation  of  the  club's  initials  which 
"  Facd  "  originated,  and  which  Wkeeling  has  proved  the  substantial  accuracy  of  by  exhibiting 
(Mar.  24,  '86,  p.  395),  a  half-page  tabular-view  of  the  C,  T.  C.  finances  for  '85,  from  the  Coun- 
dl's  annual  report  in  the  Gasett*t  "  as  compiled  by  a  cycling  friend  to  whom  the  manipulation 
of  fi^ur^s  is  a  delightful  recreation."  Without  such  help,  few  who  look  upon  the  undigested 
mass  of  official  figures  would  have  patience  to  study  out  for  themselves  the  following  significant 
summaries  :  C.  T.  C.  gross  profit  on  trading  accounts,  $6613, — comprising  ^4609  on  uniforms, 
|;ii83  on  badges,  ^392  on  handbooks,  and  $429  on  discounts.  This  profit  was  nearly  all 
absorbed  by  the  net  cost  of  Gazette,  $6438,  whose  total  cost  (511,317)  consisted  of  ^6804  for 
printing,  $4027  for  postage,  and  $486  for  adv.  commissions, — the  adv.  receipts  (besides  $680  due 
Dec.  31)  being  $4879.  The  "  general  expenses  "  (including  the  Secretary's  salary  of  $1500,  but 
excluding  the  adv.  com.  just  named)  were  $8031,  to  which  must  be  added  ^2793  for  office  station- 
ery, and  51640  for  postage, — a  total  of  $12,454,  or  almost  as  much  as  the  revenue  from  member 
ship-dues,  $12,740.  The  sum  of  $2y>  was  appropriated  to  the  "  N.  C.  U.  reserve  fund,"  and  I55 
was  spent  for  "danger  boards," — making,  with  net  cost  of  Gazette,  the  club*s  total  expenses 
$19,197.  Its  revenue  exceeded  this  by  I294, — nearly  half  the  excess  being  derived  from  interest 
on  deposits,  $138,  which  sum,  added  to  the  membership-dues  and  trading  profits  already  specified, 
raised  the  total  to  $19,491.  In  addition  to  this,  the  entrance  fees  amounted  to^$2i23,  and  were 
all,  by  rule,  appropriated  to  the  "reserve  fund."  The  gross  receipts  on  the  trading  transac- 
tions, which  yielded  a  profit  of  $6613,  were  $38,157;  and,  as  payments  00  Gazette's  account 
were  $11,317,  the  whole  amount  of  C.  T.  C.  cash  handled  during  the  year  was  considerably  in 
excess  of  $50,000.  "  Those  who  consider  that  the  club  is  of  use  to  the  wheel  world  should  sup- 
port its  finances  by  purchasing  through  its  agency,"  remarks  IVheeling,  "  since  but  for  this  it 
has  DO  vital  spark.  Without  the  large  profits  secured  on  its  trading,  it  would  practically  fall  to 
the  ground."    At  the  annual  meeting  of  May  8,  '86,  the  Treasurer  likewise  said  that  each  mem- 


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  dte 
monthly  amount  of  checks  drawn  by  him  on  the  C  T.  C.  bankers  often  reached  $75001  Tbe 
Secretary  reported  that  the  club  had  been  represented  at  England's  first  road  conference ;  h^ 
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  membersfaipft  az 
$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  coob- 
omy,  however,  as  shown  by  the  fact  that  a  man  who  should  put  $25  in  the  P.  O.  Savings  Baiik 
would  receive  62  c.  a  year,  by  which  he  might  pay  his  annual  C.  T.  C.  dues  and  still  retain  om-eer- 
thip  in  the  $25.  Mention  was  made  at  the  same  meeting  that  "  the  club's  attempt  to  get  inooe- 
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  ihtt 
the  club  was  also  engaged  upon  a  road-book  of  the  Continent,  "  which  would  be  inonnparab^ 
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  foreign  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,  Hano> 
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  amd 
IVa/^Kf  which  said  thA,  as  regarded  the  last  12  meetings,  23  of  about  75  Councilors  had  attended 
only  once,  23  twice  and  15  thrice,— so  that  only  about  a  dozen  had  attended  a  third  or  nxire  d 
the  year's  meetings :  "  Yet  each  Council-meeting  is  supposed  to  be  supreme  ;  and  one  gfeat 
fault  is  that  each,  instead  of  keeping  itself  to  the  business  arising  in  its  own  district,  posses  reso- 
lutions affecting  the  most  remote  districts.  The  consequence  is  that  sometimes  a  resohatioB 
passed  at  one  Council  is  disowned  at  the  next.  There  is  no  power  of  appeal,  except  under  verr 
spedal  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  objectkn. 
B.g-.,  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  Council 
gave  a  contract  worth  nearly  I2500  a  year  to  the  partner  of  one  of  their  body  who  was  presect 
at  the  time.  Evidently,  the  leading  members  of  the  club  have  not  been  able  to  frame  a  suflW 
dently  elastic  constitution  to  meet  its  present  growth."  At  present  these  evils  are  intensified,  fnr 
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  od  any  qoes- 
tion  or  policy  not  expressly  forbidden  by  its  70  rules.  Of  course,  under  such  an  irrespoosibte 
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  sodal  and 
sentimental  influence, — since  the  League  controls  all  practicable  arrangements  that  can  be  eft> 
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  toars  and 
tourists,  at  least  expense,  to  join  the  C.  T.  C.  simply  for  the  sake  of  its  Gatette.  I  call  this  as 
interesting  and  valuable  paper,  in  spite  of  all  the  fun  poked  at  it  by  the  rival  trade-circa)an 
which  chiefly  cater  to  the  racing  men,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  drivel  and  commonplace  which  k 
prints  for  "  filling."  Every  American  who  plans  to  do  any  riding  abroad  should  likewise  job 
the  club  for  the  sake  of  the  introduction  which  its  ticket  will  give  him  to  the  verbal  dvilities  of 
the  consuls  who  may  be  found  in  nearly  every  large  town.  Besides  these  two  reasons,  membef^ 
ship  in  the  American  Division  offers  the  social  reward  implied  in  attending  its  annual  conTcs- 
tion  and  parade,  and  there  forming  the  acquaintance  of  a  somewhat  select  body  of  cydeis,— 
"  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  ]Mying  loyal  tribute  is 
support  of  the  League  at  home.  I  assume  that  most  of  them  are  League  men,  though  I  do  sol 
know  the  exact  proportion,— my  assumption  being  partly  based  upon  the  League  memboship 


MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS.  643 

of  dieir  15  State  Consols,  whose  geographical  distribotion  is  as  follows  :  N,  /f.— W.  V.  Gi!* 
anao,  Nashua.  Mass.—F.  A.  Pratt,  3  Somerset  St.,  Boston.  J?.  /.—A.  G.  Carpenter,  j 
IVestminster  St.,  Providence.  C/.— F.  A.  Jackson,  608  Chapel  st,  New  Haven.  A^  K— F. 
J.  Fool,  3  Broad  St.,  N.  Y.  M /.— L.  H.  Johnson,  East  Orange.  Pa.—F,  S.  Harris,  718 
Afch  St.,  Philadelphia.  MU.—S.  T.  Qark,  a  Hanover  St.,  Baltimore,  a— Alfred  Ely,  873 
Prospect  St.,  Cleveland.  7^.— L.  W.  Conkling,  108  Madison  St.,  Chicago.  Mo.—W.  M. 
Srewster,  309  Olive  St.,  St.  Loub.  At.— S.  B.  Wright,  Oskaloosa.  /ftf.—B.  K.  MtUer,  103 
'Wisconsin  st,  Milwaukee.  Cffi.—'Gto.  E.  Bittinger,  60S  Harrison  av.,  Leadville.  fVya. — C. 
P.  WasBvng,  Rock  Springs.  These  State  Consuls  nominate  local  consuls  and  they  also  supply 
appHcation-blanks  to  thoae  who  send  stamped  and  addressed  envelopes.  Each  candidate  who 
•igns  such  a  blank  sends  it  with  #1  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  6x  c  These  facts  are  announced  in  each 
waek's  Bi.  iVorU^  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  GtuetU. 
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  tVktel  called  itself  the  club's 
"  official  organ  in  America  "  (June  6,  '83,  to  Feb.  39,  *%^\  but  did  not  regularly  print  names; 
and  the  Canadiem  iVhtelman  has  inserted  a  similar  "honorary  adv.*'  of  itself,  as  "official 
4>f^n  of  the  C.  T.  C  in  Canada,"  ever  since  Oct.,  '84.  The  slight  hold  which  the  club  has 
gained  upMn  that  country  is  chiefly  due  to  the  absence  of  any  such  enthusiast  as  the  one  who 
pushed  it  into  recognition  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  the  A  m.  Bi. 
Jotamalt  in  '77*  ^  detauled  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  30,  '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  )ust  named  "  conjointly  devised  a  reciprocal  scheme  whereby  membership  in  the 
L.  A.  W.  should  entitle  the  holder  ^$o/acto  to  the  benefits  and  privileges  of  the  C.  T.  C.  when 
on  a  visit  to  England,  and  vk*  verta.  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  obtained  to  define  some  feasible  method  adapted  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  country." 
These  words  of  Mr.  S.  in  the  GoMttU  were  reprinted  by  "  Faed,"  as  the  text  for  a  long  article 
{Bi.  IVoridt  May  15,  '85^ pp.  33-35),  which  aimed  to  show  that,  "instead  of  the  mere  senii- 
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  ^63.25  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  $5.37.  The  comicality  of  this  attempt  to  "  do 
something  "  seems  intensified  by  the  fact  that  the  "  parent  body,"  with  a  revenue  of  more  than 
$30,000  in  '85,  appropriated  an  even  smaller  sum  (^55)  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  "Penn.  Rood-Book*'  rightly  says  :  "Tbe 
natural  conditions  render  cycling  sign-posting  ini|nacticable  in  this  country.  A  few  daDgcfoas 
hills  on  the  most  traveled  suburban  roads,  and  a  few  forks  and  turns  where  habitual  "«i«*«^«— 
are  made,  may  be  labeled  with  advantage ;  but,  in  general,  considering  the  immense  area  to  Ise 
covered  by  a  small  number  of  riders  and  volunteers,  the  placing  of  League  s^-boards  is  far 
less  desirable  than  the  publication  of  good  road-books."  The  same  writer  aho  gave  yigotons 
warning,  in  the  ist  ed.  of  his  book,  that  any  endeavor,  by  the  Boston  managers  of  the  C  T.  O. 
to  advance  it  beyond  the  stage  of  mere  social  recognition,  and  use  it  as  a  practical  in 
"  to  usurp  the  government  of  touring  relations  in  the  U.  S.,"  would  be  resisted  to  the  t 
The  BL^World^  having  called  this  a  "  cowardly  attack,  which  most  bring  upon  the  autbor  ike 
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  formed  the  final  paragraidi 
in  the  report  written  by  Chief  Consul  Weston  to  the  annual  Division-meeting  at  dereiand. 
May  t8,  '85,  thus :  "  A  legislative  cycling  club  should  be  a  national  club ;  but  a  merely  natioa^ 
organization  for  touring  purposes  is  a  waste  of  power.  A  touring  organization  to  be  tfaoRM^hly 
efficient  must  be  international.  This  little  world  of  ours  is  not  large  enough  for  more  than  ooe 
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  cycling  club  should  be  a  State  dub  with  a  natiooal 
backing.  A  touring  organization  to  be  thoroughly  eflldent,  must  be  a  State  organisatkm  with 
national  oversight.  This  little  America  of  ours  is  not  large  enough  for  more  than  one  ovigani- 
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  tooring  wbed- 
men  in  America,  and  I  think  they  put  an  effectual  quietus  on  the  visionary  schemes  of  those 
who  professed  to  believe  that  no  arrangements  to  help  such  touring  could  be  "  thoroughly  effi- 
cient "  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  for  a  "  reformed  C.  T.  C,  composed  of  self-governing  Divisions,  and  reaOy 
embracing  the  world  "  (A  W.^  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  urged  it  to  act  at  once.  How  the  advice 
was  followed  is  shown  by  this  extract  from  the  Bu  WorltPs  review  of  the  year,  Jan.  i,  '96: 
*'  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  I56.98,  the  same  as  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,  wiU  ever 
be  supported  by  practical  Americans. 

'•  The  B.  T.  C.  Handbook  "  of  Apr.,  'Sa,  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.,  '8a  (seep.  691X  The 
present  Hon.  Treas.  is  W.  B.  Gumey,  of  Bradford,  re-elected.  The  handbook  of  Apr.,  "S^ 
catalogued  the  Council,  whose  annual  term  began  then,  as  consisting  of  61  Representative 
Councilors  (with  none  named  for  7  Divisions)  and  54  Chief  (}onsuK  These  ofikers  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  tirith  5  additional  R.C's,  and  5  C  Cs 
named  in  the  Oct.  GasetU.  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  Council  to  appoint  addi- 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS.  645 

tional  C  C.'s  and  R.  C.*s ;  and  they  have  this  year  appointed  additional  C.  C.*«  for  each  of  lo 
Divisions  (sub-divided  by  county  lines),  thus  raising  the  total  from  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;  AUbutt,  (Dr.)  H.  A.,  24  Park  >q.,  Leeds,  Scot.  ;  •Andrews, 
C.  H.,  4a  Brandenburgh  rd.,  Gunnersbury;  Atkinson,  Jasper,  Woodland  Grove,  Newton  rd., 
Leeds;  •Bartram,  G.,  Thomhill  Park,  Sunderiand;  Bashall.  H.  St.  J.  H.,  21  Holland  Villas 
rd.,  Kensington ;  *Bingham,  C.  H.,  29  Catharynesingel,  Utrecht,  Ifai. ;  •Bradney,  J.,  6  Oak 
St.,  Wolverhampton;  *Brooke,  (Lieut. -Col.)  C.  K.,  66  Kimbleton  rd.,  Bedford;  Bryson,  R. 
S.,  7  Warrender  Park,  Crescent,  Edinburgh,  Scd. ;  •Buik,  £.  G.,  West  Park,  Wick,  Soft.; 
•Burn,  John,  Victoria  Park,  Forres,  Scof.  ;  •Burnett,  W.  Kendall,  123I  Union  st,  Aberdeen, 
Sect.  ;  Calddeugh,  C,  38  Silver  St.,  Durham ;  Close,  J.  C,  5  Lavender  rd.,  Barbourne,Worces> 
ter;  Cook,  R.,  White  House  Farm,  Chehnsford;  Cooper,  F.  G.,  South  wick  Lodge,  Wood- 
vale,  Forest  Hill;  •Cooper,  (Rev.)  £.  B.,  Uffington  Rectory,  Stamford;  Couch,  R.  P.,  ai 
Chapel  St.,  Penzance;  Courtney,  G.  H.  W.,  Rutland  House,  The  Grove,  Stratford;  Cousens, 
H.  J.,  Buckhurst  Hill,  Essex;  Craigie,  (Maj.)  J.  H.  S.,  32  The  Terrace,  York  Town,  Fam- 
borough,  Hants;  Crawshay,  De  Barri,  Rosefields,  Sevenoaks;  *Curtin,  J.  F.,  Mucknish 
Castle,  Oranmore,  Irt.;  Daviea  G.,  Lake  Vale,  Alderly  Edge,  Cheshire ;  •De  Baroncelli,  A.  (b. 
Apr.  5,  '52),  18  Rue  Roqu^pin,  Paris,  Fr.  ;  •De  Ligne,  Ernest  M.,  38  Boulevard  du  Jardtn 
Botanique,  Brussels,  Belfr.  ;  •Edwards,  A.  W.,  GI.  Kongevej,  Copenhagen,  D€h.  ;  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,  Ir*.  ;  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.,  Drumeam  Terrace,  53  Grange  Loan,  Edinburgh,  .Sc^.  ;  •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.,  267  Moss  Lane  East,  Manchester;  •Hildebrand,  )r.,Th.,  Opemgasse,  a  Vienna, 
Aust. :  •Hills,  A.  J.,  Market  sq.,  Biggleswade;  Hinchdiffe,  B.,  Alma  Villa,  Uttoxeter 
New  rd.,  Derby;  Hogg,  J.  R.,  10  Alma  pi..  North  Shields;  •Hughes,  O.  R.,  362  High  St., 
Bangor;  •Illingworth,  A.,  4  Merton  rd.,  Bradford;  [33]  Ingall,  G.  D.,  11  Burlington  Gardens, 
Acton,  London,  W. ;  Johnson,  John,  24  George  sq.,  Gla^ow,  Scot. ;  *Johnson,  R.,  28  Trinity 
Coll.,  Dublin,  Ir*.  ;  •Jones,  £.  L.  R.,  91  Ledbury  rd.,  Bayswater,  London,  W. ;  •Jones,  W. 
W.,  Mantua  House,  Festiniog,  Merioneth ;  Kenworthy,  J.  W.,  Hurst  Hall,  Ashton-under- 
Tyne;  •Knight,  J.  N.,  Market  pi..  Wells,  Somerset;  Knox-Holmes,  (Maj.)  F.,  110  a.,  Gros- 
▼enor  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, 
Tliomton  Lea,  Nicoll  rd.,  Hariesden,  London,  N.  W. ;  Logan,  W.  T.,  4  Park  Terrace,  Cross- 
hill,  Glasgow,  Scot. ;  •Luke,  J.,  21  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,  Ire.;  [31]  Meyer,  H.,  11  Copthall  Court,  Throg- 
morton  sL,  London,  E.  C. ;  [37]  Mills,  F.  W. ,  Thomleigh,  Huddersfield;  •Mitchell,  G.  T., 
4  Donegal  sq.,  East,  Belfast,  Ire. ;  •Monk,  R.  Rugg,  26  Frankfort  St.,  Plymouth ;  Moriey, 
(Dr.)  F.,  45  High  St.,  Portsmouth;  •Morris,  C.  Outram,  Tain,  Scot.  ;  Nunn,  C  H.,  24  West- 
gate  St.,  Bury  St.  Edmunds  ;  •Oliver,  C.  E.,  Elms  House,  Derby;  Ord,  W.  E.,  33  Bairstow 
St.,  Preston;  Pattison,  J.,  3  Castle  Terrace,  High  Wycombe;  Perkins,  A.  B.,  The  Forge, 
Bradford;  [32]  Peterkin,  E.,  Linlithgow,  Scot.  ;  Petter,  S.,  Eason  Terrace,  Yeovil;  Phillips, 
R.  E.,  Rochelle,  Selhurst  rd.,  South  Norwood,  London,  S.  £. ;  Potter,  C.  H.,  99  Superior  st, 
Cleveland,©.,  U.  S.A.  ;  •Powell,  (Dr.)  F.  Hillbank,  Red  Hill,  Surrey ;  •Ranken,  (Rev.)  C.  E., 
St  Ronan'sy  Malvern ;  Robbins,  C,  Dunkerque  House,  South  Gate,  Gloucester ;  •Roberts, 


646         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

H.  Croydon,  Boyne  Home,  Notting  HUl,  London,  W. ;  Roberts,  R.,  la  Victoria  Chaiiiba% 
Leeds;  *Robinson,  T.,  36  Waterloo  pi.,  North  Shields;  Roylance,  F.  W.,  31  CaiuMn  St., 
Manchester;  *Riiinney,  A.  W.,  Keswick;  [30]  Rutter,  G.  H.,  Glenhyrst,  Prince's &▼.,  Liver- 
pool;  •Saveall,  W.  J.,  37  Marsham  st,  Maidstone;  •Savile,  (Maj.)  A.  R.,  Royal  MtOtair 
Coll.,  Famborough  Station  ;  *SearIe,G.  F.  C,  St.  Peter's  Coll.,  Cambridge;  Sherriff.  £.  J^ 
Holly  House,  Mortlake;  Sherriff,  H.  H.,  Holly  House,  Mortlake  ;  Sider,  C.  J.,  133  Gcof|e 
St.,  Edinburgh,  Se«i. ;  Simpson,  (Col.)  R.,  Salisbury,  The  Orchard,  Portishead,  Somerset; 
•Smith,  Albert,  Wilton  Park  Farm,  North  Walsham ;  Stacpoole-Westropp,  (Dr.)  W.  H.,  Lii- 
doonvama,  Ennis.  /rv.  ;  *Stead,  S.  A.,  19  Tabley  rd.,  Holloway,  London,  N. ;  Stooer,  C  B., 
145  Western  rd.,  Brighton ;  Stoney,  Gerald,  9  Palmerston  Pk.,  Dublin,  Irt,  ;  *Thoa)asv  J.  M., 
3  Market  st.,  Penryn ;  Thomson,  A.  Scarlett,  The  Lilies,  Upper  Richmond  itL,  Pataqr* 
London,  S,  W. ;  nibbs,  H.  S.,  26  Union  av.,  Montreal,  P.  Q.,  Can.;  Tobias,  H.  A.,  15 
Ullctrd. 4  Liverpool;  •Townson,  T.  W.,  Hutton  Dene,  Bowdon,  Cheshire;  •TarreH,  W.  J., 
Turrell's  Hall,  Oxford;  Ure,  W.  P.,  Caimdhu,  Helensburgh;  Varley,  J.  L.,  5s  Holgalc 
Terrace,  York;  Wade-Gery,  A.  J.,  Compton  Grange,  Shefford;  Walker,  (Capt.)  E.,  Rock 
House,  Cromford,  Derby;  •Walker,  T.  H.  S.,  87  Zimmer-strasse,  Beriin,  W.,  Gtr,  ;  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,  Boatoa, 
Mass.,  C/.  S.  A.  ;  Whatton,  J.  S.,  9  Somers  pi.,  Hyde  Pk.,  London,  W. ;  •Wiggleswortfa,  J., 
Long  Row,  Nottingham  ;  'Woods,  J.  C,  i  Worcester  pi.,  Swansea;  Wright,  John,  icS  Stone 
St.,  Newcastle-on-Tyne ;  •Young,  J.  B.,  3  Teviot  Terrace,  Kelvinside,  Gla^ow,  Scti. ; 
T.  S.,  97  Buchanan  st,  Glasgow,  Scot. 


"The  National  Cyclists'  Union,"  according  to  an  official  leaflet  dated  Jan.,  "85,  "is  ilw 
ruling  body  in  all  branches  of  cycling  throughout  the  United  Kingdom.  It  is  intimate!  j  allied 
with  the  C.  T.  C,  the  Am.  Athletic  Ass'n,  and  the  Swimming  Ass'n  of  Oeat  Britain.  The 
work  of  the  Union  is  carried  on  by  a  Council  of  Delegates,  which  is  elected  by  the  raemben, 
and  meets  quarterly ;  and  by  an  Executive  Committee,  which  meets  weekly,  and  whose  aakm 
is  fully  reported  m  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  cack 
district  the  advantages  of  local  self-government,  subject  to  the  guidance  of  the  General  Execntive, 
and  it  already  possesses  a  membership  of  many  thousands.  The  11  Local  Centers,  with  the 
Sec.-Treas.  of  each,  are  named  alphabetically  as  follows  :  Btrming-kamt  J.  P.  Derringtoo,  53 
Union  Passage ;  Brighton^  H.  J.  Gimblette,  106  Church  rd.,  W. ;  Bristol^  Geo.  Ashnwad, 
Glenthome,  Alma  Vale  rd.,  Clifton ;  Devon  and  Cornwall,  F.  Blanchard,  33  Bedford  at 
(Plymouth) ;  Dorset^  R.  R.  Case,  Dorsetshire  Bank  (Bridport) ;  Edinburgh^  J.  Drumniond, 
W.  S.,  16  Duke  St. ;  Glasgow,  R.  M.  Wenley,  10  Hamilton  Paric  Terrace,  Hillhead;  Livers 
pool,  H.  Holt,  21  Mulgrave  st. ;  Manchester,  T.  Marriott,  Halliwell  Terrace,  Trafford  rd.  (Sal- 
ford);  Newcastle,  J.  Wright,  118  Stone  st. ;  Nottingham,  S.  Morley,  Houndagate."  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,  oomprtsiBg 
22  clubs  and  about  100  of  the  unattached.  For  some  years  past,  the  President  of  the  Unkw  baa 
been  "the  Rt.  Hon.  Viscount  Bury,  P.  C,  K.  C.  M.  G.,  of  Quidenham  Hall  "  (b.  aboot  183s), 
the  Secretary,  Robert  Todd  (b.  1847),  and  the  Treasurer,  A.  R.  Sheppee.  In  June,  '83,  those 
respective  offices  were  held  by  G.  F.  Cobb,  W.  P.  English,  and  T.  E.  Scnitton,— the  Pres*  and 
Trcas,  both  belonging  to  the  Camb.  Univ.  B.  C.  Of  the  16  men  then  serving  on  the  Elxccinive 
Committee,  only  2  (shown  by  •)  were  elected  to  the  present  board,  who  are  named  as  followa,  ia 
the  order  of  votes  received  (Jan.  28,  '86,  ranging  in  number  from 9a  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.  PhiYpot, 
E.  R.  Sbipton,*  H.  R.  Reynolds,  H.  E.  J.  Irons.    At  about  thb  time,  the  central  olice  of  the 


MINOR  CYCUNG  INSTITUTIONS,  647 

UnioD,  in  Londoo,  was  moved  to  57  BaainghaU  it,  E.  C.,from  17  Ironmonger  Lane  where  it  had 
been  for  at  least  4  yeaurs.  The  club  was  founded  in  '78,  as  the  "  Bicycle  Union,"  and  adopted 
las  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  IVfuel  World  <X>t.^.^  '84),  show- 
ing how  certain  elderly  malcontents  of  the  T.  A.,  who  objected  to  its  absorption  by  the  fi.  U., 
»tauted  the  T.  U.,  iu  hostility  to  the  latter,  with  the  hope  of  robbing  it  of  all  jurisdiction  over  tricy- 
cling. The  earliest  notable  act  of  theT.  U.  showed  an  animus  which  ought  to  make  its  memory 
tiateful  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  in-esident  was  Lord  Bury,  "  who  consented  to  serve  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  bringing 
abottt  an  amalgamation  with  the  B.  U." ;  but  when  he  had  got  the  name  of  this  changed  to  N.  C. 
U.y  the  T.  U.  refused  to  "  tiunble  " ;  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."  Wfutlmgoi  June  9,  '86,  mentioned  briefly 
and  rather  scoffingly  that,  during  the  past  week,  Dr.  R.  bad  presided  over  a  "  congress  "  of  his 
society,  at  Colchester,  "  where  a  series  of  roost  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 
the  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  exaaly, 
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 
uUces  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 
asMstance  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  mterested  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  a  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  stibscriptions  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  6a  c  The 
Delegates  form  a  Coundl  (the  Chairman  and  Secretary  of  each  Local  Center  also  being  members 
of  it,  tx  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  (<^  #.,  3  mos.),  shall  thereby  vacate  his  seat.    The  £zecudv«  shall  fill  its 


648  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

own  vacancies,  after  due  notice  to  each  member,  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  next  CoobcS- 
mecting.     Extra  meetings  of  the  Council  may  be  called,  at  a  fortnight's  notice,  either  bjr  itself,  C7 
by  the  Executive,  or  by  requisition  of   10  Delegates ;  and  the  Executive  may,  at  a  fmtn^fat'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  bat 
Delegates.    Twenty  of  these  shall  form  a  quorum  ;  and,  in  the  absence  of  the  President,  ead 
meeting  shall  elect  a  chairman,  who  shall  have  unlimited  authority, — ^no  appeal  from  his  niSnss 
being  possible  except  to  a  special  meeting, — and  who  shall  have  the  right  to  speak  and  vote  on 
every  motion,  and  shall  also  have  a  casting  vote  in  case  of  a  tie.     Any  person  aggriered  by 
action  of  a  Local  Center  may  appeal  to  the  Executive,  and  from  it  to  the  Council.     The  Ex«ci»> 
tive  shall  have  full  power  over  all  proceedings  of  the  L.  C.'s,  including  their  dissolution  if  neo 
essary,  subject  to  an  appeal  to  the  Council.    The  Sec-Treas.  of   each  L.  C.  after  receirir^ 
from  the  clubs  and  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.     Each  L.  C.  shall  elect  at  least  2  Delegates  to  the  Council,  and  an  addiiional  one 
for  every  complete  50  members  beyond  the  first  50, — but  the  clubs  thus  represented  of  course 
surrender  their  original  right  of  electing  Delegates  directly ;  and  these  need  not  be  members  of 
the  clubs  or  L.  C.'s  which  elect  them.     A  L.  C.  may  be  voted  a  money-grant  by  the  Execntive 
after  a  week's  written  notice  to  each  of  its  members.     Each  L.  C.  is  expected  to  supervise  the 
race  meetings  of  its  district,  increase  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.  63*. 
I  have  condensed  the  foregoing  from  an  official  pamphlet  (Iliffes,  28  pp.)  dated  June,  'Sj  ; 
but  it  is  not  likely  that  any  of  the  quoted  rules  have  since  been  essentially  changed.     A  writer  ia 
Wheeling  oi  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  loog 
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  pajjer  of  Mar.  24,  *86,  said  :    "The  N.  C.  U.'s  finaodal 
statement  fur  the  year  '85  is  eminently  satisfactory  and  creditable,  showing  a  balance  of  |>2Sdq, 
including  the  reserve  fund  of  $1480.    The  Local   Centers  also  have   balances  as  foOews : 
Birmingham,  $129;  Brighton,   $27;  Bristol,  $37;   Glasgow,   $76;  Liverpool   (incL   grant  of 
$125),  $152;  Manchester,  $14;  Newcastle,  $92;  Nottingham,  $9;  Portsmouth,  %x%\  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,  Wheelimg  sit^ 
a  different  song,  thus  (Oct.  6,  p.  406) :    "  The  N.  C.  U.  is  penniless.    That  is  the  boKtw  hemcke 
of  a  fact  which  the  Executive  has  just  presented  to  us  in  the  shape  of  an  announcement  stocked 
away  in  a  corner  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  leK  a  sum  than  $750,— thus  swallowing  up  the  annual  subscriptions  of  3000  dub-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  wcked  for  words.     As  proof 
that  we  speak  by  the  book  when  we  say  that  this  conversion  of  income  into  loss  is  unneceaaur, 
we  hereby  offer,  on  behalf  of  Harry  Etherington,  to  pay  to  the  Union  f  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,  swep« 
away."    Thus  is  introduced  an  argument  to  prove  that  the  Union  must  either  abandon  iu  pre- 
tended function  of  social  censor,— must  cease  giving  any  further  support  to  the  roaring  farce 
called  "  Amateurism,"— or  else  must  be  tofn  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  difficulty,  the  Executive  find  themselves  forced  by  the  pressure  of  public  of«>> 
ion  to  throw  aside  their  long  sloth,  and  deal  with  their  so-called  '  amatearism,'— thus  1 


MINOR  CYCUNC  INSTITUTIONS.  649 

atonn  at  once,  and  rendering  it  unlikely  that  the  neoesaary  funds  will  be  forthcoming.  If  the 
Union  ia  to  be  respected,  it  must  publish  its  edicts  and  not  shrink  from  its  responsibilities.  For 
thia  purpose,  it  must  be  thoroughly  backed,  financially  and  morally,  by  its  clitnikU,  And  here's 
the  rub.  There  are  too  many  crying  evils,  interesting  to  the  non-racing  thousands  of  the  Union, 
to  justify  their  money  being  thrown  away  in  fighting  perhaps  a  firm  naturally  incensed  that  the 
pnunateur  in  their  employ  has  been  taken,  and  the  promateur  in  another  employ  left."  This 
latter  phrase  alludes  to  probable  libel^uits,  thought  in  behalf  of  "  suspends,"  whose  names  may 
be  officially  "  pilloried  for  the  sentimental  and  certainly  not  moral  o£Eense  of  promateurism." 
lyhetiing  says  that  if  the  N.  C.  U.  £xecutive  would  only  have  courage  enough  to  suspend  and 
publish  the  names  of  racers  who  have  "  roped  "  {jL  #.,  sold  out  for  bets)  or  "  swindled  clubs  out 
of  entry  fees,"  with  the  connivance  of  the  Local  Centers,  "  it  would  gladly  start  a  defense 
fond"  to  protect  them  from  the  iibel>suitB  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  laboriously  accumulated  by  voluntary 
subscriptions,  *'  to  enable  the  Unbn  more  effectually  to  take  legal  proceedings  for  the  protection  of 
riders,  and  for  other  purposes. "  WhttUng  will  also  oppose  any  attempt  to  increase  the  member- 
ship-fees  from  25  c  to  6a  c.,  "  for  many  of  the  dubs  are  themselves  run  on  fees  of  only  ^1.25  " ; 
and  urges  that  a  proper  device  for  raising  money  is  to  establish  a  racing  register,  with  an  annual 
entrance-fee  of  ^1.25,  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  "  ^painst  these  men  at  the 
end  of  the  season,  after  "  playing  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  unpoasible  task  of  transforming  a 
■ham  into  a  reality.  Why,  then,  did  they  re4nstate  all  the  suspected  riders  within  a  week  after 
■ttspending  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  'somethmg  may  turn  up'  to  smooth  and  allay  the  irritation  which 
they  know  their  action  will  create.  The  membere  of  the  Executive  are  not  fools;  they  are 
probably  the  ablest  men  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 
next  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 
they  do  it ? "  Such  is  the  dilemma  as  stated  by  J.  R.  Hogg  i^WheeHMg,  Oct.  6,  '86),  in  the  first 
ol  a  series  of  full-page  articles  which  prove,  by  relentless  k>gic,  that  the  only  real  remedy  for 
onderhand  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  whole ,  to  recognize  it 
as  a  great  sport,  and  not  as  a  dass  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  fordng  the  nature  and  requirements  of  the  radng  world  into  harmony 
with  their  laws.  We  want  them  to  shape  their  laws  in  harmony  with  the  racing  world.  *  * 
The  membeiB  of  the  Executive  must  surely  know  that  as  long  as  the  maker  is  willing  to  pay  for 
a  riding  adv.  in  the  amateur  nnks,  there  always  wii  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?  Tioie  will  prove  all  things;  but  to  ua  it  appean  aa  dear  as  dbyUglit»  tkiC 
■uspensions  of  makers'  amateurs  in  '86  will  clear  the  way  for  a  new  crop  in  '87  and  «"Tr*~riTi 
in  '87  will  make  room  for  more  paid  men  in  '88.  The  prospect  is  not  an  inviting  oocl  Theic 
is  no  state  more  intolerable  than  to  be  mcessantly  at  variance  with  our  iellows,  in  whatever 
sphere  of  life  it  may  occur.  The  Executive  is  setting  out  on  a  policy  of  disoord,  of  enmity,  aad  el 
bitter  and  acrimonious  strife  of  which  no  man  can  foresee  the  end."  Simibr  to  this  was  Wkad- 
tug's  advice  of  Sept.  16  .  *'  We  say  to  the  Union  *  Abolish  the  definition ! '  bat  1 
pending  that  abolition,  '  Do  not  be  so  unjust  as  to  sxispend  a  score  of  crack  riders  for  c 
a  sin  which  only  a  trifling  minority  of  your  clients  consider  a  sin ;  and  do  not  be  so  imp 
to  ruin  your  exchequer  for  next  year  by  suspending  the  men  whose  grand  ] 
the  public  to  your  championship  meetings.'  "  The  contempt  which  the  general  < 
must  needs  feel  towards  this  "  whole  silly-Billy  business," — of  pretending  to  wwiwraiw  i 
ble  social  distinctions,  under  the  guise  of  "  regulating  the  sport,  "^'was  shown  fairly  veil  by  a 
sarcastic  article  in  a  London  satirical  weekly  (the  Bat^  Oct.  6)  from  which  I  quote  the  follow- 
ing ;  "Perhaps  the  natural  snobbery  of  the  British  middle  classes  has  never  been  aaoffe  tlMV- 
ougUy  exposed  than  by  the  mstitution  of  the  extraordinary  sentiment  known  as  '  AmatOBnas.' 
The  origin  of  it  is  lost  in  obscurity ;  but  the  fact  of  its  existence  has  been  made  pntent  <A  fate 
years  principally  by  the  toul  disregard  of  ite  laws  by  those  populariy  supposed  10  be  its  devotees." 
"  Issued  under  the  authority  of  the  Executive,  and  edited  by  Wro.  Cole,  Ass't  Sec,"  is  the 
If.  C.  U,  Revuw  ttnd  Official  Record^  whereof  there  lies  before  me  the  second  number  (OcL, 
'86 ;  24  pp  and  blue  adv.  cover  of  4  pp. ;  ^\  by  10  in.),  the  first  having  appeared  in  June.  It  as 
designed  as  a  quarterly,  to  be  sent  to  each  Delegate  in  advance  of  the  four  \ 
meetings,  and  to  contain  the  reports  and  agenda  which  are  to  be  brought  before  those  t 
Doubtless  it  is  also  mailed  to  the  unattached  or  independent  members,  in  recognition  ci.  tbor 
paying  63  c,  instead  of  the  25  c.  fees  paid  by  the  club-men ;  but  this  is  left  to  mferenoe,  aasd  bd 
price  is  named  at  whidi  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  spedmeas  of  r  jilim, 
journalism.  "  The  Repair  and  Maintenance  of  Roads,"  an  article  specially  written  for  is  by 
W.  H.  Wheeler,  a  member  of  the  Institution  of  Civil  Engineers,  occupies  16  columns  m  this  Od. 
number,  and  probably  the  piece  "  On  the  Legal  Aspecu  of  Road  Repair,"  by  Mr.  Glen,  in  she 
June  number,  was  of  similar  length ;  for  both  are  "soon  to  be  re-issued,  in  pamphlet  ionD,  Ssr 
genera]  distribution,  at  a  minimum  charge."  I  assume  that  the  same  will  prove  true  in  nqiaad 
to  the  article  promised  for  the  Jan.  Revuw^  by  a  legal  member  of  the  Executive,  "  giving  a 
summary  of  all  the  by-laws  enacted  by  local  governments  for  the  regulation  of  cyde  tsafic" 
The  pamphlet  of  Union  rules  may  be  obtained  at  50  c  per  doau,  and  entry-forms  lor  mrrnwst 
ings,  at  62  c.  per  100,  plus  postage.  The  reference  library,  at  57  Basinghall  st,  may  be  feedy 
consulted  by  all  wheelmen,  10  a  m.  to  5  P.  m.  "A  list  of  its  books,  maps  and  other  aaatcriai, 
with  notes  as  to  desiderata,  for  the  guidance  of  those  willing  to  aid  in  completing  the  c 
will  be  issued  as  soon  as  possible.  A  classified  catalogue  will  also  be  prepared  in  ms.,  and  1 
up  to  date,  for  readers'  use ;  and  this  will  be  printed  whenever  the  size  of  the  coUectioB  \ 
such  a  step."  An  appeal  from  the  librarian,  R.  L.  Philpot  {JVkttimg,  Jan.  27,  '86.  p.  a$s), 
names  ten  classes  of  desirable  contributions,— including  not  only  complete  sets  of  all  cycfiag 
journals,  and  complete  eds.  of  all  books  and  pamphlets  which  concern  the  sport,  but  also  snps^ 
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  h^ene ;  "  trade  lisM, 
catalogues  of  cycling  exhibitions,  programmes  of  cycling  sports ;  photographs,  engravings  and 
drawings  of  well-known  cyclers,  machines,  and  views  of  places  of  interest ;  and,  finally,  ne«s> 
paper  cuttings  and  scraps  relating  to  any  of  the  above  subjects,  for  preserration  in  the  libnry 
albums."  The  Union  has  never  issued  a> badge  or  even  a  monbership  ticket;  aitdthe  Oct. 
Revuw  urges  that  something  of  the  sort  shouki  be  done,  as  a  means  for  attracting  rccruiia,  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  "  recoBd  aedbl," 


MINOR  CYCLING  INSTITUTIONS.  •  651 

due  me  of  a  half-dollar,  for  which  a  die  has  kitely  been  cut ;  and  a  list  of  8  awards  of  it  for 
**  breaking  records/'  between  May  and  Juiy,  *86l  On  the  back  of  each  medal  are  inscribed  the 
luunes  <3i  the  winner  and  of  the  club  or  individual  presenting  it.  A  tabuUr-view  of  the  winners 
of  all  N.  C  U.  championships,  ^^%  to  '86,  covers  p.  as ;  and  on  p.  u  is  a  list  of  '*  i6  danger- 
tBoards,  erected  since  last  quarterly  report,"  with  names  «rf  the  persons  and  dubs  ereaing  them, 
sum!  notices  of  the  hill-tops  where  they  stand.  Throughout  the  whole  of  Great  Britain,  after  8 
srears'  combined  ^ort,  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  pfaicards  are  obtainable, 
fcratis,  at  57  Basinghall  St.,  or  through  any  of  the  N.  C  U.  Local  Centers,  by  any  riders  or  dubs 
«vfao  wOl  undertake  their  erection,  and,  preferably,  bear  the  trivial  expense  involved  in  so  doing." 
So  says  the  C.  T.  C.  Gaaettg  (Oct.,  '86,  p.  419),  beneath  a  reduced  fao-stmile  of  the  "  board," 
which  is  a  rectangle,  inscribed  in  large  capitals :  "  To  Cydists.  This  Hill  is  Dangerous."  A 
•omewhat  sarcastic  suggestion  as  to  the  impracticable  nature  oi  the  device  was  offered  thus  by 
**  The  Octopus  "  (H^Jkreim^,  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  o£F,  it  is  only  fair  to  assume  that  they  are  erected 
r  the  supervision  1^  the  local  docton  and  undertakers  who  object  to  trade  being  spoilL  " 


On  the  Continent,  the  largest  club  of  the  sort  is  the  **  Deutscher  Radfahrer-Bund  "  (Get^ 
man  Wheelmen's  Union),  whose  fortnightly  organ,  the  Rad/akrer^  was  sent  to  7187  members 
Oct.  I,  '86,  when  its  whole  ed.  was  770a  This  shows  that  the  membership  has  increased  916 
in  3  mos.,  and  has  more  than  doubled  in  18  mos.,— for  the  revised  list  of  Apr.  i,  '85,  had  only 
3337  names.  The  sodety  was  founded  at  Leipzig,  Ac%.  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 
aa,  '8a,  at  Hanover)  and  the  South  ("  (jerman-Austrian,"  org.  May  39,  '8a,  at  Munich).  At 
the  dose  of  '83,  according  to  Walker's  "  Jahrbuch  "  (pp.  104,  loS),  the  latter  comprised  49 
dubs,  with  about  tioo  members,  whose  annual  fee  of  50  c.  induded  the  price  of  a  monthly 
"  organ  " ;  the  former  comprised  16  clubs  with  24a  members,  paying  35  c.  fees,  and  115  of  th« 
unattached,  paying  75  c.  A  catalogue  of  their  respective  publications  may  be  found  on  p.  697. 
Since  that  was  eiectrotyped,  the  Rad/akrtr'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  '8a,  and  got  his  paper 
(then  called  the  Veioc^ed)  adopted  there  as  official  organ.  He  is  an  Englishman,  and  a  chief 
consol  of  the  C.  T.  C. ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  C.  H.  Bingham,  of  Utrecht,  the  first  press- 
dent  of  the  *'  Nederlandsche  Velocipedisten  Bund  "  (Dutch  Cyders'  Union),  founded  July  i, 
'S3,  who  perhaps  still  holds  that  office.  lu  publications,  and  the  official  organ  of  the  Belgians' 
Union, — "  F^d^tion  V^lodp^dique  Beige,"  founded  at  Brussels,  Jan  ai,  '83,«-are  mentioned 
on  p.  70a  The  "  Union  V^Iocip^dique  de  France  "  was  founded  at  Paris,  Feb.  6,  '81.  De 
Baroocelli's  "Annnaire"  of  Jan.,  '83,  mentioned  8  leading  clubs  in  7  dties  as  supporting  it ; 
ilbd,  a  year  later,  gave  a  list  of  hs  chief-consuls  and  consuls  in  39  towns.  The  general  officere 
were  as  follows,  at  both  those  dates  :  Pre$,y  £.  Variet,  90  av.  Niel;  Stc.^  H.  Pagis,  iir  av, 
de  Villiers ;  Tr»as.,  L.  Vilurd,  4  rue  de  la  Zone  (CHiareaton).  Menbon  was  made  in  Feb.,  '86, 
of  a  *'C:onsul  General,"  Mr.  Jacquot,  as  in  the  act  of  preparing  a  road-book  of  France.  The 
Sec  is  ed.  of  the  oldest  French  cycling  journal  (the  Sport  Viloeipidi^m ;  begun  '80;  weekly, 
IS  pp.,  ^.40);  and  his  ride  from  Paris  to  Vienna,  several  years  ago,  attracted  much  notice  as 
the  fint  long-distance  tour  on  the  Continent.  His  paper  is  the  official  organ  of  the  Union.  The 
ed.  of  another  one,  the  Vgh  Pyrtnien  of  Pau,  was  spoken  of  scoffingly,  in  the  summer  of  '85, 
as  trying  to  form  an  opposition  society,  the  "  Alliance  V^lodp^diqoe  de  France,"  and  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  it ;  but  I  think  nothing  was  really  done.  Switzeriand  is  the  fifth  continental 
country  known  to  me  as  possessed  of  a  cyders'  government,— the  "  Union  V^lodp^qtM 
Suisse  "  having  been  founded  in  '84.  I  take  this  from  De  BaroncelH's  "  Annuaire  "  of  '84, 
which  mentioas  the  dubs  of  ten  towns  as  supporting  the  Union. 


6S3 


TEN  THOUSAND  MIIlES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


DeB.'8  '84  book  also  names  the  "  N.  Z.Cyclists'  Alliance  (oiK-Oct.  so.'Sa)  "  and  the  "An 
Han  CycUstt'  Union  (org.  Feb.  6,  '82 ;  2000  membenj."  The  AUIbottnu  BtdUlin  of  Mar.  19, 
'84,  reported  a  ooundl-meetJog  of  the  latter,  as  having  arranged  for  a  parade  in  April  and  for 
races  in  May ;  but  I  think  its  name  must  very  soon  have  been  changed  to  "  Victorian  Cydisu' 
Union,"  for  all  the  wheel  legislation  which  I  have  seen  mentioned  since  July,  '84,  in  the  colcmy  of 
Victoria,  has  been  thus  accredited ;  and  three  of  the  other  colonies  have  similar  govemmeols,  wliic^ 
eeem  to  recognize  no  superior  or  central  authority.  In  Sept.,  *86,  the  sec.  of  the  V.  C.  U.  was  F. 
W.  Moody,  of  the  Prothonotary's  Office,  Melbourne ;  D.  Tough  was  treas., and  Geo.  Spicer  was 
official  handicapper.  "  His  Honor,  Mr.  Justice  Williams,'*  accepted  the  presidency  of  the 
Union  in  May,  '85,  and  doubtless  still  holds  it,  as  well  as  the  presidency  of  the  Melbourne  BL 
C,  which  he  was  holding  in  '83, — ^though  I  infer  that  his  relation  towards  each  is  a  purelj  oooh 
plimentary  one.  The  "  New  South  Wales  Cyclists'  Union  "  vras  alluded  to  as  early  as  July, 
'84,  as  an  old-established  affair^with  James  Martin,  of  Sydney,  as  president ;  and  I  presuns 
he  still  keeps  the  position,  for  he  was  re-elected  at  the  annual  meeting  of  June  i  (8),  '8s,  by  a 
vote  of  53  to  38,  after  an  attempt  to  render  him  ineligible,  by  adopting  a  rule  that  no  one  in  the 
cycling  trade  should  hokl  office,  had  been  defeated  70  to  10.  At  the  same  time,  C.  W.  Chambeis 
was  chosen  sec,  and  £.  H.  McRae  treas.  The  *'  South  Australian  Cyclists*  Union  '*  a 
younger,  for  its  first  "  annual  parade  "  was  on  Jan,  20,  '86  (attracting  144  riders),  and  its  first  nce> 
meeting  was  held  Oct.  2,  in  Adelaide.  The  project  of  forming  a  branch  of  the  N.  S.  W.  C.  U., 
for  the  colony  of  Queensland,  was  discussed  at  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Brisbane  B.  C,  Apr. 
16,  '8s,  and  a  committee  was  appointed  to  confer  with  other  clubs  upon  the  subject.  In  Aog., 
'84,  the  treas.  of  the  "  New  Zealand  Cyclists'  Alliance  "  sent  me  a  copy  of  its  rules  and  1 
mendations,  printed  in  the  shape  of  a  broadside  or  poster,  16  by  24  in.  Of  the  four  < 
named  at  the  top  of  the  sheet,  I  think  these  two  may  still  be  in  service :  Pres.,  W.  U.  Wyna 
Williams,  of  Christchurch  ;  sec,  E.  H.  Bum,  of  Dunedin.  The  annual  fee  is  62  c  (or  50  c, 
when  an  entire  club  joins),  and  life-membership  may  be  had  for  $5 ;  but  the  sheet  gives  no  token 
as  to  the  number  of  members.  I  suppose  this  must  be  small,  though  there  are  nearly  100  riden 
in  the  two  clubs  at  Christchurch  (the  chief  city,  pop.,  30,000),  and  sizable  dubs  exist  at  a  doses 
other  towns  of  the  islands.  My  only  knowledge  of  the  "  Tasmanian  Cyclists'  Union  "  is  an  alhi- 
sion  to  it  m  a  letter  of  June  2,  '85,  from  R.  O.  Bishop,  who  said  he  founded  it,  alter  coming  to 
Hobart  in  '84,  and  was  its  first  secretary.  I  suppose  its  activity  is  slight.  The  same  is  fMobaUy 
the  case  with  the  three  Unions  on  the  continent,  for  neither  of  them  has  attempted  to  issue  aa 
"  offidal  organ  " ;  and  not  even  the  V.  C.  U.  has  been  given  much  mention  in  the  AnstrtUiam 
Cycling  Nrws^  whose  history  may  be  found  on  p.  6g6.  Its  editor  and  proprietor,  W.  H.  Lewis, 
in  announang  its  discontinuance,  Sept.  25,  '86,  said  he  had  "  conducted  it  for  three  years  as  a 
hobby,  and  must  now  bid  farewell  to  cyding  and  to  journalism,  because  of  the  incessant  c 
of  the  practice  of  his  profession," ^presumably  that  of  law.  The  "  Irish  Cydisu' 
tion  "  has  for  an  offidal  organ  the  Irish  Cyclist  and  AtkkU  (fortnightly,  begun  May  20,  '85: 
$1.35),  and  the  ed.  thereof  is  its  Secretary,  R.  J.  Mecredy,  who  successfully  conducted  a  toor- 
ing  party  of  30  from  Dublin  to  the  Lakes  of  Killamey,  early  in  Aug.,  '86.  "  When,  in  the 
autumn  of  '84,  some  emissaries  of  the  N.  C.  U  sought  to  establish  a  Local  Center  in  Ireland, 
they  urged  as  a  reason  that  the  I.  C.  A.  was  essentially  a  Dublin  body,  which  only  nnned  from 
its  torpor  once  a  year  to  hold  the  championships,  and  then  went  to  sleep  for  another  season. 
Though  the  effort  failed,  because  of  Irish  antipathy  to  '  English  importations,'  it  had  the  vahi> 
able  effect  of  stirring  the  L  C.  A.  into  vigorous  action,— resulting  in  an  increased  and  more  rep*c> 
sentative  membership.  That  body  has  since  created  an  agitation  upon  the  roads  question ;  and. 
at  the  C  T.  C  Coundl-meeting  of  Mar.  13,  a  vote  was  passed  giving  ^125  to  the  I.  C  A.,  to 
assist  its  prosecution  of  the  demand  for  better-kept  highways."  Thus  reported  the  C.  71  C 
GoMeltt,  of  Apr.,  '86,  p.  124. 

Other  "  mstitutions  "  deserving  a  record  are  the  expensive  club-hooses  whidi  have  bees 
erected  in  several  large  dties.  Those  of  New  York  and  B<»ton  have  been  described  on  pp.  96, 
los ;  and  I  ratended  to  give  an  account  here  of  the  fine  mansions  more  recently  built  by  the 
dubs  of  Baltimore,  Washington,  Phila.  and  St.  Louia^    But  the  chapter  is  too  long  aheady. 


XXXVII. 

LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL. 

•*By  whatever  means  the  dissemination  of  information  upon  cycling 
matters  may  be  accomplished,  it  cannot  fail  to  aid  our  purposes  and  benefit 
our  business.  Therefore,  although  this  catalogue  is  essentially  and  strictly 
a  business  document,  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  if  we  commend  to  our  readers 
the  perusal  of  the  columns  of  the  cycling  press.  To  some  it  may  be  news, 
that  in  England,  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  and  in  far  Australia,  as  well  as 
in  this  country  and  Canada,  some  fifty  or  more  regularly  issued  periodicals 
are  entirely  devoted  to  cycling  matters.  The  fact  is  significant  in  demonstrat- 
ing the  intelligence  of  the  class  from  which  we  obtain  our  customers,  and  the 
permanence  of  the  interests  with  which  we  are  identified." 

Such  were  the  words  with  which  the  editor  of  the  Cunningham  Com- 
pany's eighth  annual  catalogue  (Boston  :  Feb.,  '84)  introduced  its  most  prom- 
inent page,  in  giving  a  free  advertisement  there  to  the  names,  prices  and 
publishers'  addresses  of  the  chief  journals  in  the  trade.  I  commend  the 
wisdom  of  that  example  to  every  cycle  dealer  who  issues  a  catalogue  or  price- 
list;  and  I  urge  him  toimproveupon^it  by  adding  similar  facts  concerning  this 
book  of  mine,  and  every  other  wheeling  book  known  to  be  in  the  market. 
I  urge  upon  the  authors  and  publishers  of  all  such  books  to  adopt  the  same 
policy, — assuring  them  that  there  can  be  no  rivalry,  but  rather  that  the  sale 
of  each  helps  instead  of  hindering  the  sale  of  all  the  others.  Though  I  can- 
not  assert  this  as  a  reason  why  each  journal  should  freely  advertise  every 
other  journal,  I  yet  believe  it  would  be  good  policy  for  them  to  do  so ;  and 
I  am  certain  it  would  be  a  profitable  policy  for  them  to  give  such  treatment 
to  all  the  books.  A  fine-type  list  of  these  (naming  publisher's  address,  price, 
date,  and  number  of  pages)  would*  occupy  but  a  very  small  space,  and  would 
be  likely  to  prove  **  interesting  reading  matter  "  to  some  new  patron  of  the 
paper,  every  time  it  was  inserted;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  a  list 
of  cycling  journals.  I  call  this  system  "  free  advertising  "  merely  to  show 
that  it  involves  no  payments  of  money,  and  no  making  of  contracts  ;  but  it  is 
in  fact  a  system  of  informal  exchanges,  under  which  each  beneficiary  is  likely, 
in  the  long  run,  to  give  just  about  as  much  as  he  receives.  Since  the  jour- 
nals' editors  often  bargain  with  one  another,  and  with  book-publishers,  for  the 
exchange  of  a  certain  amount  of  **  advertising  space,"  in  which  to  proclaim 
their  names  and  prices  in  large  type,  wh>^  would  it  not  be  just  as  business-like 
on  their  part  to  adopt  the  plan  which  I  recommend,  of  giving  at  stated  inter- 
vals a  modest  mention  (without  display,  or  puffery  or  criticism  of  any  sort) 


654         ^^^  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  my  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  comer; 
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  following  list  of  22  cycling  journals,  giving  date  of  first  Issue  of  each,  is  believed  to  io- 
dude  all  those  which  are  now  (Aug.  t,  '86)  regularly  published  in  the  EngKsh  langnace  :  The  11 
not  otherwise  designated  are  weeklies  :  (i)  L.  A.  W.  Bnlietm,  July  2,  '8$ ;  Philadelphia,  PL, 
S06  Walnut  St. ;  circulation  is  10,000,  as  a  copy  is  sent  free  to  each  member  of  the  League,  (a) 
WheelmetCs  GaaeiU^  Apr.,  '83  ;  monthly;  Springfield,  Mass. ;  a  published  summary  of  its  sub- 
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  IVorid^  Nov.  15,  *79i  Boston,  Mass.,  179  TrenoH 
St.  (4)  Cycle,  Apr.  2,  *86;  #1.50;  Boston,  Mass.922  School  St.  (5)  Wfuel^  Sept.  25,  %>;  New 
York,  12  Veseyst.  (6)  Recreatian,  Julys,  '86;  illustrated;  $1.50;  Newark,  N.  J.,  755  Broad 
St,  ;  "sworn  circulation  of  at  least  2500  copies."  (7)  SindJum  Cyder ^  Nov.,  '84;  momthly; 
Memphis,  Tenn.  (8)  Bicycle  South,  Dec,  '84;  monthly;  New  Orleans,  La.,  xi6  Gravtcr  ss. 
(9)  Star  Advocate,  Mar.,  '85 ;  monthly;  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  (10)  American  WheebmoM^ 
Aug.,  '85 ;  monthly;  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  5x6  Olive  st.  (11)  Vermont  Bicyde,  Apr.,  '86;  moRtUy, 
25  c. ;  West  Randolph,  Vt.  (12)  CamuHan  IVheelman,  Sept.,  '83;  monthly;  %x\  Londoo, 
Ont. ;  sent  free  to  each  of  the  900  members  of  the  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association.  (13)  C.  T. 
C.  Monthly  Gazette,  Oct.,  '78 ;  London,  Eng.,  1 39-140  Fleet  st. ;  sent  free  to  each  of  the  ar,oQo 
members  of  the  C.  T.  C.  (whose  annual  dues  are  2  s.  6  d.) ;  "  this  magazine  has  inooimparably 
the  largest  and  most  bona  fide  circulation  of  any  wheel  paper  in  the  world."  (14)  Cyclist,  OcL 
22,  '79;  Coventry,  Eng.,  12  Smithford  st.  (15)  Bicycling  News,  Jan.,  '76;  London,  Eng.*,  9S 
Fleet  St. ;  "  the  oldest  cycling  paper."  (16)  Wheeling,  April  30,  '84 ;  London,  Eng.,  153  Fleet 
St.  (17)  Cycling  Times,  May,  '77;  London,  Eng.,  East  Temple  Chambers,  Whitefiiars  st 
(18)  Tricycling  Journal,  June  15,  '81;  London,  Eng.,  Hammersmith  Printing  Works.  (19^ 
Wheel  World,  '80;  monthly,  6  d.  ;  London,  Eng.,  98  Fleet  st. ;  "the  only  illustrated  maga- 
rine  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;  Dubiia. 
(22)  Australian  Cycling  News,  May  11,  '82;  fortnightly,  7  s.;  Melbourne,  Vict,  47  Queen  st 
The  American  papers  all  cost  5  c  eadi,  and  their  annual  subscription  is  $1  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  GoMotie  are  botb 
mailed  for  $2,  in  case  the  money  is  sent  to  the  latter  at  Springfield,  Mass. 

The  folk>wing  is  a  list  of  American  books  and  pamphleu  oonceramK  the  tufafect  (ia  the  e 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  655 

Aug.  X,  '86):  *'Lyra  Bicyclica:  Sixty  I^oeta  on  the  Wheel  "  (ad  ed.,  Mar.,  *85,  pp.  i6o,  doth); 
mailed  on  receipt  of  postal-oote  for  75  c.,  by  the  author,  J.  G.  Dalton,  36  St.  James  av.,  Boston, 
B€ass.  "  Wheel  Songs,"  poems  of  bicycling,  by  S.  Conant  Foster  (July,  '84,  pp.  80,  nearly  50 
illastrations,  cloth,  $1.75) ;  N.  Y.:  Outing  Co.,  140  Nassau  st.  "  Wheels  and  Whims:  An  Out- 
ins,*'  a  cycling  novel  (by  Mrs.  Florine  Thayer  McCray  and  Miss  Esther  Louise  Smith ;  pp. 
sS8,  doth,  illust.,  $1.25,  Boston:  Cupples,  Uphani  &  Co.,  July,  '84);  2d  ed.,  revised,  May,  '86, 
paper  covers,  mailed  for  50  c,  by  J.  S.  Browning,  91  Oliver  St.,  Boston.  "  Rhymes  of  the 
Rood  and  River,"  by  Chris.  Wheder  (Nov.,  '85,  pp.  154,  cloth,  ^2);  Philaddphia,  Pa.,  E. 
Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,  321  Chestnut  st.  "A  Canterbury  Pilgrimage,  ridden,  written  andillus- 
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., 
*85,  pp.  too,  eleven  engravings,  doth  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- 
tkm  for  '87.  "  Road  Book  of  Long  Island  "  (Apr.,  '86,  pp.  90,  cloth,  $i)>  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.  6.  Barkman,  608  Fourth  av.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
*' Canadian  Wheelmen's  Ass'n  Guide"  (Apr.,  '84,  pp.  128,  cloth,  50  c);  a  revised  and  en- 
huged edition,  with  maps,  to  be  published  in  Oct.,  '86,  by  the  secretary  of  the  association,  H. 
B.  Donly,  Simcoe,  Ont.  "  Cydist's  Road  Book  of  Boston  and  Vicinity"  (2d  ed.,  May  20,  '86^ 
ppL  42);  55  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,  j}p.  183 ;  49  lithographic  portraits;  50  c.  in  paper,  $1  in  doth;  ed.  5000); 
llartford,  Ct. :  Ducker  &  Goodman.  "  Star-Rider's  Manual "  (2d  ed.,  Mar.,  '86,  pp.  117) ;  an 
htstniction  book  on  the  use  of  the  American  Star  bicyde ;  mailed  for  75  c.  by  the  author,  E.  H. 
Corson,  ed.  of  Star  AdvocaU,  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  <'  A.  B.  C.  of  Bicyding  "  (Apr.,  '80, 
36  pp.,  to  c.) ;  instructions  for  beginners,  by  H.  B.  Hart,  811  Arch  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  "  Bicy- 
cle Tactics,"  a  manual  of  drill  for  dubs  (Apr,  '84,  ao  c),  by  T.  S.  Miller,  162  Washington  st, 
Chicago.  "Oub  Songs"  (ao  bicyde  songs  .set  to  popular  airs;  25  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  %\)  only  to  League  members  of  other  Divisions.  The  roads  of  Penn.,  N.  J.,  Md.,  O. 
hnd  Mass.  have  already  been  tabulated  thus;  while  Conn.,  N.  Y.,  Mich.,  111.,  Ind.  and  other 
Stales  have  similar  books  in  preparation.  More  interesting  to  the  general  reader  than  any  cycling 
book  ix>w  in  existence,  will  be  Thomas  Stevens's  "  Aroand  the  World  on  a  Bicyde,"  to  be 
reproduced  in  '87  from  the  series  of  illustrated  artides  which  Outing  has  published  monthly 
nnce  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^atalogued  books 
and  pamphlets  combined.  In  order  the  better  to  advertise  this  fact,  the  publisher  of  it  mil  give 
an  elecltotype  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  eariiest  menticn  belongs  to  the  Atruri. 
can  Bicycling- Joumai,  which  made  14  regular  fortnightly  issues,  Dec.  aa,  '77,  to  June  22,  '78, 
and  four  later  ones  in  '79,  dated  Jan.  25,  Aug.  9,  Oct.  18  and  Nov.  1.  "  It  will  be  published 
every  other  Saturday,  and  mailed  post-paid  for  10  c.  a  copy,  or  $a.  50  a  year,  and  all  communica^ 
tions  should  be  addressed  to  the  editor,  178  Devonshire  St.,  Boston."  Such  was  a  part  of  the 
fonnula  which  stood  unchanged  through  the  entire  t8  numbers  (and  one  of  its  other  phiases  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  tnovoment,  with  which  their  own  interests  are,  of  course,  identified.    They  do  not  se^ 


656  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

to  shirk  any  necessary  outlay,  but  they  do  desire  to  avoid  waste  and  make  their  k»9c  as  1 
possible."  No  names  were  ever  printed ;  but  (he  proprietors  were  Cunningham,  Heath  &  Co., 
the  earliest  firm  organized  for  the  importation  of  bicycles  into  this  country,  and  the  editor  was 
their  junior  partner,  Frank  W.  Weston  ^b.  July  13,  •43).  He  afterwards  used  the  signatore 
"  Jack  Easy  "  for  many  articles  in  the  Bi.  Worlds  and  his  standing  as  a  pioneer  is  prodainied 
by  the  nickname  "  Papa,"  applied  by  his  familiars  of  the  Boston  B.  C,  on  whose  origioal  roll 
of  founders  his  name  was  signed  sixth.  Its  pages  measured  9  by  <a  in.  (a  standard-stze  wfakk 
has  been  adhered  to  by  the  BL  World  and  most  of  the  later  journals, — thus  rendoing  it  eaqr  to 
file  and  bind  them  together)  and  were  numbered  from  x  to  x6  in  each  issue, — the  last  3,  3  or4(i< 
them  being  given  to  advertisements.  An  index  to  these  a88  double-column  pages  was  printed  as 
a  supplement  to  the  Bi.  IVorid  (June  36,  '80,  p.  3S9),  whose  initial  number  gave  admiOTion  to 
i\it  JtmntaPs  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.  Thb  heading  was  designed  by  C.  W.  Reed,  and  it  depicts  a  bi- 
cycler gayly  whirling  away  from  Father  Time  on  a  bone-«haker.  A  scroll  or  ribbon,  clumsily 
piled  up  between  the  two,  exhibits  the  four  words  of  the  title,  in  black  capitals  of  surpassiDg 
ugliness ;  but  the  main  figure  in  Scotch  cap,  velveteen  jadcet  and  white  flannel  breeches  has 
always  been  endeared  to  me,  as  conveying  an  admirable  notion  of  the  airy  ease  and  gracefnlness 
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  ^35,  "  or 
^13  a  half-page  "),  saying  that  a  signature-book  had  been  opened  at  their  office  for  such  as  m^ 
wish  to  join  the  proposed  Boston  B.  C,  and  uiiging  them  to  sign  promptly  and  ensure  for  their 
city  the  honor  of  having  the  earliest  American  bicycle  dub.  The  same  number  also  said: 
"  There  are  now  published  in  London  two  weeklies,  one  monthly  and  three  annuals  deroted 
entirely  to  the  bicycling  interest ;  and  a  single  London  firm  sold  60,000  machines  last  year."  A 
large  share  of  the  J<ntmats  matter  was  reprinted  from  these  English  papers,  and  frpo 
the  Boston  dailies,  whose  columns  contained  many  argumentative  and  descriptive  articles 
written  by  the  enthusiastic  local  pioneers  of  wheeling  ;  but  it  also  published  considerable  fredi 
material.  My  own  eariiest  road-report  appeared  here  ("  Bicycling  in  New  York,  "  Oct.  18,  'r*)^ 
and  alongside  it  a  list  of  33  clubs  then  existing  ;  while  the  issue  of  Jan.  35,  '79,  gave  an  alpha- 
betical list  of  about  350  riders,  with  their  addresses,  "  though  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  it 
does  not  represent  more  than  half  the  bicyders  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  (;M)  of  bound 
files  of  the  Joumaly  which  will  always  remain  an  interesting  memorial  of  the  manner  in  whkh 
wheeling  first  won  recognition  here. 

Another  notable  monument  in  the  journalistic  cemetery  is  that  made  by  the  15  monthly 
numbers  of  the  Wheebttan  (Oct.,  *83  to  Dec,  '83),  an  illustrated  octavo  magazine  of  80  double- 
column  pages,  handsomely  printed  by  Rockwell  &  Churchill,  who  took  oath  (Boston,  Apr.  37, 
'83)  that  they  had  issued  "  three  editions  of  No.  x,  two  editions  of  No.  3,  and  30,000  copies  of 
No.  9,"  and  that  their  "arrangements  with  the  publishers  required  the  printing  of  never  less 
than  10,000  copies  monthly."  The  publishers  were  the  "  Wheelmen  Co.,"  of  60S  Washington 
St.,  Boston,  who  announced  the  following  editorial  board :  S.  S.  McClure,  editor-in-d)ief ;  J. 
F.  McClurc,  managing  ed. ;  J.  S.  Phillips,  literary  ed. ;  Charles  E.  Pratt,  contributing  ed., 
and  P.  B.  Lansing,  advertising  agent.  Its  cover,  of  reddish-brown  paper,  had  a  circular  picture 
ahibiting  ten  cyclers  in  rather  awkward  positions ;  but  this  was  superseded  in  six  months  by 
greenish  paper  and  a  medallion  design  which  lasted  a  year.  Proclamation  was  made  in  Na  15 
that  there  would  be  a  consolidation  with  '*  Outings  a  magazine  of  pleasure-travel,  outdoor  sports 
and  the  general  field  of  recreation,  which  was  begun  in  May,  '83,  and  has  steadily  improved  in 
quality,  influence  and  prosperity,  with  each  successive  issue,"— having  been  published  at  $3  N. 
Pearl  st.,  Albany,  by  W.  B.  Howland  (b.  June  10,  '49),  editor  of  a  paper  near  there,— and  that 
"the  new  monthly,  OtUing  and  the  Wheelman^  will  combine  the  resources  of  both."  The  pagi- 
nation and  style  peipetuated  the  latter  rather  than  the  former,  continuing  its  series  (No.  4  of  VoL 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  657 

S,  Jan.,  '84)  as  the  i6th  monthly  iaftue  of  an  8o-page  octavo ;  and  thb  size  was  retained  until  the 
SOih  nomber  (Mar.,  '85)1  completing  the  fifth  semi-annual  volume.  The  cover  bore  the  double- 
name  during  all  this  interval  (though  the  inside  heading  was  simi^y  Outmg^  after  Mar.,  '84),. 
and  exhibited,  in  p^ace  of  the  origiual  editorial  board,  the  following  formula  :  "  Published  at 
S75  Tremont  St.,  Boston,  by  the  Wheelmen  Co.  (incorporated  Nov.  7,  '83);  Chas.  E.  Pratt, 
president;  Wm.  B.  Howland,  treasurer."  The  president's  name  appeared  for  the  last  time  in 
July,  *S5,  and  the  treasurer's  in  Dec.,  when  rumors  began  to  appear  that  the  magazine  would  be 
■old  to  a  new  company  in  New  York.  The  editorial  work  had  presumably  been  divided  between 
the  two— the  treasurer  assuming  most  of  it,  until  the  summer  of  '85,  when  he  became  editor  of 
the  Cambridge  Tribufu ;  and  I  beKeve  the  work  was  thenceforth  done  in  succession  by 
Sylvester  Baxter  and  Charles  Richards  Dodge,  though  no  names  of  editors  were  ever  printed 
after  the  WkeelmoM  series  ended  in  Dec,  '83.  The  issue  of  Feb.,  '86,  simply  said :  "The 
Outing  Co.  (limited)  will  hereafter  be  the  publishers,  at  140  Nassau  st.,  N.  Y. ;"  and  announced 
as  editor  Poultney  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.  asd  st. ;  and  the  chief  stockholder  in  the  Outing  Co.  is  reputed  to  be  Theo- 
clore  Roosevelt,  a  Harvard  graduate  of  '80,  whose  sketches  of  ranching  and  shooting  in  the 
West  have  been  the  leading  feature  of  the  magazine  under  its  present  ownership.  The  number 
of  pages  was  increased  from  80  to  13S  in  Apr.,  '84  (when  the  name  iVh§elmanxxA  the  medallion 
of  a  pair  of  bicyclers  were  removed  from  the -cover,  and  all  pretense  was  abandoned  of  claiming 
any  support  for  Outbtg  except  as  a  general  *'  magazine  of  recreation  ";,  and  the  price  was 
Increased  from  20  c  a  number  to  25  c. — from  $3  a  year  to  $3.  The  semi-annual  volumes,  bound 
in  cloth,  are  advertised  at  $1.50  each,  for  the  first  five  (480  pp.)  and  $2  each  for  the  later  ones 
(768  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- 
wnes,  or  possibly  the  first  three,  may  well  be  purchased  and  preserved  by  recent  converts  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  csrtainly  far  superior  to  the  best  ever 
given  in  the  London  )Vheel  World  (which  has  continued  the  only  illustrated  magazine  in  the 
trade,  since  the  Wtuelman^s  "  consolidation  "  at  the  end  of  '83),  and  the  best  of  its  letter-press 
was  fairly  well-written.  A  list  of  President  Bates's  contributions  may  be  found  on  p.  506  anit. 
Even  the  "  poems  and  stories  "  were  not  as  bad  as  usually  result  from  the  struggles  of  amateurs 
to  bund  such  things  "  on  the  wheel  " ;  and  I  doubt  if  any  of  the  English  trade  journals  ever 
printed  so  natural  and  unaffected  a  "  bicycling  romance  "  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.  473-484  ante)  of  Thomas  Stevens's 
report,  "  Around  the  World  on  a  Bicycle,"  which  has  been  a  feature  in  Outing  since  Apr.,  '85, 
I  have  praised  it  warmly,  for  I  think  it  alone  worth  the  price  of  the  magazine ;  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  conuined 
in  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.'s  advertisement  of  a  **  literary  and  artistic  competition  "  {Bi,  Worlds  July 
99,  '81)  for  "  two  full-nickeled  ball-bearing  Columbia  bicycles  of  any  size  and  style,"— one  to  be 
giren  for  "  the  best  article  on  the  uses  of  the  bicycle,"  the  other  for  '*  the  best  series  of  sketches 
of  bicycling:,  suitable  for  wood-engravings."  Competitors  were  to  send  in  their  matter  to  the 
editor  of  the  B.  IV.  ^  not  later  than  Sept.  15  (signed  by  an  aasumed^iame,  and  accompanied  by 
real  nam£  in  a  sealed  envelope  which  was  not  to  be  opened  until  after  the  award) ;  and  the  de- 
drioB  of  each  prize  was  to  be  unanimously  agreed  upon,  not  later  than  Oct.  i,  by  the  following 
jadges  :  John  Boyle  O'Reilly,  editor  of  the  Boston  Pii^  ;  H.  D.  Weston,  cleigyman,  now  of 
'  Norwalk,  Ct. ;  and  W.  F.  Halsall,  marine  artist,  of  Boston.  The  essay  was  required  to  con- 
tain "not  lets  than  4000  words  nor  more  than  8000,"  and  "  truthfulness  of  matter  and  dignity 
of  treatment  are  qualities  to  be  considered  as  well  as  Hterary  excellence."  The  sketches  we^e 
42 


658  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

required  to  be  4  by  6  in.  in  lixe,  and  not  leee  than  4  nor  more  than  8  in  number.  In  each  case 
the  accepted  material  wa»  to  become  the  property  of  the  prize-divers,  without  further  payment ; 
and  the  unsuccessful  matter  was  to  be  returned  to  such  owners  as  enclosed  sumps  for  the  pur- 
pose. A  brief  paragraph  of  Oct.  7  (in  B.  W.U  "  personal »'  column,  p.  a66)  said  that  the  liter- 
ary prize  had  been  given  to  C.  E.  Hawley,  of  Washington,  and  the  artistic  to  C  W.  Reed,  of 
Boston ;  but  nothing  more  was  heard  concerning  the  matter  for  a  year,  when  the  WhttbrnoM't 
first  number  (Oct.,  '83,  pp.  aa-29)  Pointed  the  successful  essay,  "  Uses  of  the  Bicycle,"  oompris- 
'ing  about  6joo  words,— the  first  ai  pp.  of  the  magazine  being  given  to  a  reproduction  ol  C  £. 
Pratt's  illustrated  "  Wheel  anwnd  the  Hub,"  whose  original  appearance  {ScrHmer's,  Feb.,  •«o| 
may  be  considered  as  the  fifst  formal  introduction  of  the  bicycle  to  the  reading  pubUc  of  America. 
He  also  wrote  a  little  story,  called  "  A  Race  for  a  Ribbon  "  to  "  fit "  the  series  of  five  pictares 
which  earned  the  prize  for  C.  W.  Reed,  and  which  served  to  illuminate  the  opening  p^gesof 
the  H^Atfimam's  thiid  issue.  The  pages  immediately  following  gave  a  reprint  of  my  own  essay 
"  On  the  Wheel "  (which  I  had  meanwhile  sold  to  LippificaUU  Magaaim  for  ^54,  after  its 
failure  to  win  the  prize  bicycle) ;  and  the  same  issue  contained  another  unsoccesrful  piece  on  the 
'•  Uses  of  the  Bicycle"  (signed  "  Major,"  pp.  ao3-ao8);  while  the  next  number  gave  stiU  a 
fourth  competitor  for  the  prize  a  chance  to  air  hU  rejected  artide  :  "  Some  Cursory  Views  tA 
Bicycling  "  (signed  "  A  Senior,"  pp.  S7i-a75)-  I>uring  the  previous  year  the  Pope  Mfg.  Ca 
had  also  offered  prizes  for  sliort  essays  by  clergymen  in  the  religious  press ;  and  I  presume  it  was 
a  result  of  this  competition  that  the  Whtelman  Yn»  able  to  show  in  its  earliest  issues  so  many 
clerical  contributors :  S.  L.  Giacey,  C  E.  Bristol,  J.  L.  Scudder,  S.  H.  Day.  L.  A.  Boswcrth, 
J.  B.  Hamilton,  H.  F.  Titus,  O.  P.  Gifford,  A.  O.  Downs,  J.  H.  Houghton,  M.  D.  BueD, 
"  A  Country  Parson,"  "  Reverend,"  "  B.  B."  and  others.  The  first-named  won  the  first  ol  these 
prizes  **  for  the  best  paper  upon  the  bicycle  for  the  use  of  ministers  "  (about  1300  words,  in  Ckru- 
tian  at  IVork),  and  the  H^Juelman  reprinted  it  in  Dec ,  '8a,  p.  a  13.  In  addition  to  reprints  from 
English  journals  of  the  utterances  of  London  riders  who  were  medical  men,— H.  Belcher,  A 
W.  Blyth,  B.  W.  Richardson  and  B.  W.  Ward,— pieces  In  favor  of  the  wheel  were  presented 
from  American  physicians  :  J.  A.  Chase,  J.  £.  O'Brien,  S.  M.  Woodbum,  G.  E.  Blackham, 
G.  E.  Corbin,  C.  A.  Kinch,  and  J.  F.  Baldwin,— the  Ust  four  contributing  to  a  "Medical  Sym- 
posium "  (Aug.,  '83,  pp.  358-366),  consisting  of  reprints  from  four  medical  journals ;  and  I  think 
likely  that  the  original  preparation  of  these  artides  was  promoted  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co. 

The  plain  inference  from  the  foregcing  facts  is  that  the  Popes  supplied  the  money  by 
which  the  "  Wheelman  Qo."  published  the  magazine,  and  that  they  had  previously  spent  con- 
siderable in  getting  together  a  body  of  seriously-written  articles,  by  whose  help  an  imposinie  stat 
might  be  assured.  Their  legal  adviser,  whose  name  was  printed  as  "  contribntinK  editor,"  has 
said  (p.  504  anU)  that  he  "  was  midwife  for  the  Whetlman^^^  and  I  presume  he  may  have  recom> 
mended  this  policy  of  trying  to  discover  how  respectable  a  literary  capital  could  be  accnnni- 
lated  in  advance,  by  thus  interesting  the  deigymen  and  doctors  and  newspaper  men  and  artists, 
in  such  sort  of  competition.  I  think  the  actual  time  of  issue  might  have  been  later,  however, 
except  for  the  appearance  on  the  scene  of  S.  S.  McQure,  who  swooped  down  upon  Boston  fmaa 
the  prairies  of  Illinois,  in  the  early  summer  of  '82,  bringing  with  him  the  fredily-won  A.  B. 
degree  of  Knox  College  and  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  youthful  enthusiasm  and  eneigy.  He 
carried  in  his  pocket  an  octavo  pamphlet  of  48  pages,  called  "  A  History  of  College  Journalism  ** 
(edited  and  published  by  himself,  in  his  capadty  as  "  President  of  the  Western  CoHege  Plea 
Association,"  which  he  had  been  instrumental  in  organizmg),  and  he  trusted  that  an  advertise, 
roent  of  Columbia  bicycles,  impressed  upon  the  bine  cover  of  that  pamphlet,  would  be  the 
humble  means  of  introdudng  him  into  some  sort  of  employment  in  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.  Hit 
persistency  and  sanguine  good-^iature  forced  the  president  thereof  to  "give  him  a  chance,"  and 
this  was  improved  so  well  that  in  a  few  weeks  he  recommended  himself  as  a  proper  person  to 
be  managing  editor  of  the  proposed  WJuelmtm^  with  his  younger  brother,  J.  F.  McClore,  as 
assisUnt,  and  a  college  classmate,  J.  S.  Phillips  (formerly  "  literary  ed.  of  the  Kncx  Stmdnd^ 
and  afterwards  a  graduate  of  Harvard  in  '85),  as  writer  of  the  book  notices.  These  youg 
collegians  (espedaUy  the  first  named,  who  is  now  the  manager  of  an  "  authon'  syndicate,"  at  140 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  659 

Haaaan  tt.,  N.  Y.)  supplied  tiie  needed  element  of  "  posh  "  and  aodacity,  in  dramming  up 
sttbecriben,  contributora  and  adirertisers-while  the  fine  Roman  band  of  the  "  contributing 
«(fitor  "  could  be  depended  upon  to  tone  down  their  exuberance,  and  give  an  air  of  sedateneas 
.and  dignity  to  the  general  result  I  presume  it  was  hb  pen  which  traced  these  wonb,  introdue- 
Ing  the  second  semi-annual  volume  (Apr.,  '83,  p.  68) :  "  Since  the  Wketltman  is  not  a  ventur* 
far  financial  gain,  and  since  the  literature  demanded  for  iu  pages  is  such  that,  for  the  most  part» 
only  wheefanen  can  furnish  it,  the  voluntary  aid  of  those  quaHfied  to  write  for  iu  pages  is  abso- 
Intely  neceasaiy  for  its  success  in  the  future.  The  company  has  already  spent  several  thousand 
dollars  on  the  work  of  publication,  and  is  prepared  to  spend  |ioo,ooo,  if  necessary,  in  establish- 
ing  the  lyketlman  upon  a  self-supporting  basis.  It  is  expected  that  this  edition  of  ao,ooo 
copies  will  reach  every  library  and  every  important  city  in  the  UnUed  States  and  Canada." 

The  Utter  phrase  suggests  a  mention  of  my  belief  that,  of  the  usual  monthly  edition  of 
10,000,  quite  as  many  copies  were  given  to  Ubraries,  reading-rooms,  hotels,  barber>84hops  and 
other  resorts,  as  were  sold  to  subscribers.  In  other  words,  the  magazme  was  an  ehiborate 
iUnstiated  advertisement,— an  enormously  expensive  trade^nrcular,-which  was  hurled  monthly 
MX  the  heads  of  the  American  people,  in  the  hope  of  4raking  them  up  to  the  merits  of  cycling  aa 
a  new  aid  to  health  and  locomotion.  Every  trader  in  America  who  has  profited  by  that  awaken- 
ing  »  indebted  to  some  extent  for  this  free  advertising  which  the  WkMlman  gave  him ;  and  I 
ask  every  such  one  to  remember  the  fact,  when  he  hears  any  silly  talk  about  "  monopoly,"  and 
to  ask  himself  where  "  the  trade  "  would  have  been  to-day,  in  the  absence  of  a  controlling  cor- 
poration, wealthy  and  intelligent  enough  to  stake  large  sums  for  remote  results  whx:h  neces- 
sarily confer  an  incidental  benefit  upon  every  one  of  its  rivals  ?  I  don't  suppose  Col.  Pope  was 
very  sanguine  that  the  Wketlmam  could  ever  be  made  self.«upporting,  and  I  *m  confident  he 
never  intended  to  risk  |ioo,ooo  in  trying  to  accomplish  anything  so  visionary.  It  seems  more 
likely  that,  at  the  end  of  the  first  year,  when  he  found  perhaps  a  tenth  of  the  sum  named  hope^ 
lesaly  sunk,  he  may  have  called  his  merry  men  together  and  told  them  that  the  experiment, 
having  accomplished  its  purpose  in  arousing  a  new  and  serious-minded  set  of  patrons  for 
the  wheel,  would  now  be  discontinued.  Such  discontinuance  would  certainly  have  been  the 
part  of  wisdom  ;  but,  at  this  assumed  juncture,  I  assume  that  the  syren  song  of  the  tempter  came 
to  him  from  the  mouth  of  his  legal  adviser,  recommending  the  acceptance  of  a  "  consolidation  " 
as  proposed  by  Outim^a  publisher.  The  familiar  argument  in  all  such  cases  is  that,  though 
endi  of  two  magaaines  may  have  lost  money  separately,  money  may  be  made  when  expenses 
have  been  lessened  one-half  by  the  combination.  The  fallacy  consists  in  assuming  that— instead 
of  a  proportionate  lessening  of  receipts—"  these  convergent  streams  of  good-will  and  influence 
win  blend  naturally  and  speedily  into  one."  The  quoted  words  are  those  of  Charles  E.  Pratt ; 
and,  though  he  has  done  more  than  any  other  American  to  give  decency  and  dignity  to  cycling 
journalism,  the  words  show  that  he  had  learned  nothing  from  the  failure  of  his  attempt  in  *8i  to 
help  the  BL  Worlds  by  burdening  it,  for  six  weary  months,  with  an  entirely  unrelated  depart- 
ment called  the  A  rchtry  Fhld.  M  uch  wiser  was  his  earlier  remark  that "  the  literary  assisunce 
of  enthusiastic  bicyclers  has  been  as  essential  to  the  success  of  the  IVkttimtm^s  first  volume  as 
was  the  capital  invested  in  its  publication  " ;  for,  when  they  discovered  that  Otttmg^  had  really 
swallowed  the  original  magasine,  their  assistance  rapidly  dwindled  away  until  it  quite  disap- 
peared. A  oondusive  token  of  this,  and  of  impending  disaster,  was  given  byincreasing  the  sise 
and  price  (Apr.,  '85),  with  the  remark;  "  As  a  steadily  growing  influence  and  circulation  have 
attended  the  combined  magazine,  OtUin^s  fiekl  will  henceforth  include  the  entire  range  of  topics 
within  the  domain  of  refined  recreation."  Having  thus  pushed  the  enterprise  to  a  thoroughly 
ideal  and  ethereal  position,  where  it  was  quite  beyond  the  reach  of  support  or  sympathy  from 
any  single  pastime,  its  originator  quickly  returned  to  his  original  vocation  of  running  a  mekly 
newspaper ;  and  Col.  Pope,  as  soon  afterwards  as  possible,  "  unh>aded  "  upon  the  Kttle  band  tit 
wealthy  New  Yorkers  who  compose  the  "  Outing  Co.  0>>nited)."  The  June  issue  said  that 
"  Omtm^t  paid  circulation  has  doubled  since  Jan.  i,  in  this  country  alone,"  and  also  advertised 
a  "  cable  despatch  for  5000  copies,  from  Sampson  Low,  Marston  &  Co.,  London  agents  of  the 
OMipsine."    A  month  faOer  (p.  476),'  it  gave  the  foDowiag  '*  figuras  of  circulation  :  Jan. .  8ooor 


66o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Feb.,  10,000;  Mar.,  is/wo;  Apr..  15*000 ;  May,  ao,ooo."  About  a  third  of  its  laS  pp.  are  now 
devoted  to  sUlistical,  ediiorial  and  miscellaneous  matter  in  brevier,  and  the  remaining  twMfairds 
to  more  formal  articles  in  coarser  type.  The  pictures  and  letter-press  of  many  of  these  are 
reprinted  from  various  kinds  of  sporting  books;  and  the  avowed  aim  of  the  periodical  is  10 
be  recognized  as  *'  the  American  gentleman's  magazme  of  sport."  When  the  American  gen- 
tlemen who  now  own  ii  have  had  sport  enough,  I  suppose  its  pub.ication  will  be  stopped. 

A  very  creditable  little  fortnightly  was  the  Philadtlpkia  Cycling  Rt€^rd^  which  made  a6 
appearances,  00  alternate  Fridays,  from  Mar.  7,  '84,  to  Feb.  ao,  *K5,  when  iu  dlscootinuaDce 
was  thus  announced  by  the  pubiislier,  H.  B,  Hart  (b.  Dec  18,  '46) :  "  I  deeply  regret  the 
necessity  of  whhdrawtng  the  paper,  which  has  been  profiubie  and  wcU-supported ;  bat  aidnous 
and  exacting  duties  in  other  matters  leave  me  no  time  for  the  management  of  iu  busineaB.  Tbe 
completed  volume  comprises  at;  pp.,  containing  over  350  columns  of  reading  matter,  of  which 
over  eight-ninths  is  original ;  and  it  includes  three  continued  stories,  five  original  pieces  of 
poetry,  and  one  of  music,  and  much  other  material  of  mterest."  A  few  sets  can  stiU  be  supplied, 
at  the  original  subscription  rate  of  50  c  (81 1  Arch  sL,  Phila. ).  The  editor  was  Melmoth  M.  Ok 
borne.  The  paper  was  adopted  as  the  "  official  gazette  of  Penn.  Division  of  the  Leagne  " ;  its 
typography  was  attractive,  and  its  literary  expression  was  unpretentious,  good  natored  and  decent 
Contrasted  to  it  in  most  ways  was  the  poorly-printed  IVetUm  KycUtt^  "published  semi-montUy 
for  the  good  of  the  cause,*'  at  Ovid,  Mich.,  from  May  i,  '84,  to  Dec  1,  '85,  for  50  c.  a  year,— 
after  making  is  monthly  appearances,  Apr.,  '83,  to  Mar.,  '84,  for  14 c  The  publiahefs  were 
the  Ovid  B.  C  ;  and  the  Mich.  Division  of  the  League  early  gave  it  a  sanction  as  "  official  oigaB." 
W.  C.  Marvin  (b.  Jan.  i5,'62 ;  d.  Apr.  13,  '86)  was  named  as  managing  editor,  from  the  stan 
till  May  15,  '85,  and  C.  S.  Reeves  for  the  remaining  months.  The  pages  of  each  issue  were 
numbered  from  1  to  t6,  ani  ths  tims  of  appearance  was  often,  if  not  usually,  several  days  or 
weeks  bter  than  the  date.  Much  more  creditable  was  the  "  official  organ  of  the  Ohio  Divisian, 
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  CUvtland  Mtrcury ;  its  editor  was  Alfred  £Iy,  jr.';  its  pages 
(10  by  7  in. )  were  numbered  from  i  to  88 ;  and  though  its  chief  object  was  to  advertiae  and  pro> 
mote  the  August  rac^  of  the  Division  and  the  October  races  of  the  dub,  it  made  a  specialty  of 
road  information,  and  printed  many  facts  of  value  to  tourists  in  Ohio.  Its  final  number  dedaicd 
that  a  second  volume  would  begin  in  Oct.,  as  "  Cyclings  a  monthly  Journal  of  cyding  and  the 
trade,  at  50  c  a  year,  giving  the  latest  wheel  news  and  special  attention  to  touring."  In  fao, 
however,  "Vol.  a,  No.  1,"  under  the  new  title,  and  with  pace  enlarged  to  n  by  8  in.,  was 
dated  Apr.,  '8$,  and  the  Sept.  issue  announced  its  absorption  in  the  Sprimgfitld  Wkttfmmtf*  Gm- 
mit«t  whose  publisher  agreed  to  fill  all  unexpired  subscriptions,  besides  payii^  50  c  for  each  name 
on  the  list.  C>c/m^  was  well  printed,  and  the  Aug.  issue,  which  was  the  last  one  that  reached 
me,  had  a  colored  cover,  bringing  the  total  of  pages  up  to  88.  Mont|;omery,  the  capital  of  Ala- 
bama, could  boast  of  the  Bicycle^  a  semi-monthly  of  8  pp.,  from  July  15,  *84,  to  OcL  15,  *8s, 
with  a  subscription-rate  of  $1.  Frank  X.  Mudd  and  J.  C.  McKeniie,  the  original  "editon 
and  proprietors,"  issued  the  first  6  numbers,  and  R.  H.  Polk  the  remaining  14.  Advertisement 
was  made  in  '83,  by  H.  E.  Nelson  and  C.  H.  Fisher, 'at  Milford,  Mass.,  of  the  Cydg,  an  8.p. 
paper,  devoted  to  the  interests  of  bicyclera  and  tricyders,  and  issued  by  them  on  the  15th  of 
every  month,  at  35  c  a  year ;  but  I  have  aever  been  able  to  secure  a  spedmcn,  or  extract 
any  other  information  than  that  "  the  issue  was  confined  to  6  or  7  numbers."  The  birth  of  the 
HamiltoH  Whttl  Jottmai^  planned  as  a  monthly,  was  announced  late  in  May,  '85 ;  but  I  never 
heard  of  a  second  number.  Of  the  same  date  was  the  Yale  CyctUtt  designed  (o  advertise  the 
noes  of  the  Yale  B.  C.  Similariy,  the  fourth  annual  parade  and  fall  races  of  the  New  Haven  B. 
C.  were  promoted  by  the  AVfw  Haven  Bicycle  Herald {%  pp. ,  Sept.,  '83,  price  5  c);  and  the  Eiim- 
betA  IVkeehmm  18  pp.,  Dec,  '84,  drculaticm  jooo)  was  issued  in  support  nf  an  exhibition  by  the 
enterprising  dub  of  that  name.  The  Lawrence  B.  C.  likewise  issued  the  BicyderU  Xecerd, 
Jan.  and  Feb.,  '84.  The  BicyeU,  "Vol.  1.,  No.  i."  (8  pp.,  illustrated,  Feb.,  *8i),  was  pdb> 
Ushed  by  W.  M.  Wright,  160  Fulton  St.,  N.  Y., "  for  leratuitoos distribution  as  an  advcrtiacaKol, 
aothing  more  nor  less."    The  Canadian  IVkeelmanU  earliest  page  (Sept.,  '83)  mentioMdai 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  66 1 

defunct  the  HamUton  Bvych^  which  perhaps  never  reached  a  second  issue ;  and  even  a  :fint 
issue  was  never  achieved  by  the  Mahu  Wkttly  which  was  projected  in  Nov.,  ^84,  at  Bangor,  by 
W.  F.  Stone.  Perhaps  I  should  add  to  the  caUlogue  the  Caii/omia  AtkUU^  "  a  weekly  jour- 
nal  of  Pacific  sports  and  pastimes "(S pp.,  $3.50),— also  described  as  "devoted  to  legitimate 
sports,  and  published  every  Saturday  by  Ben  Benjamin,"~which  made  nine  appearances  at  San 
Francisco  between  Apr.  11  and  Dec.  19,  '85,  and  afterwards  transferred  its  good-will  and  editor 
ID  the  JngUsidt.  This  is  a  well-printed  weekly  (16  pp.,  $3,  June,  '83),  latgely  given  to  local 
political  comment  and  light  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  Amsrican  Cycling  Press  of  1886. 

As  my  account  of  the  Wheelman  has  shown  that  it  was  in  fact  a  "  trade  circular,"  whose 
expen^veness  caused  its  early  discontinuance,  the  less-ornate  and  less  pretentious  cycling  jour- 
nals which  still  exist  can  lay  claim  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  are  the  L.  A.  W.  Buileim 
<io,ooo  arc)  and  the  IVkeelmeu^s  Gtaette  (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  BuUetut  is  sent 
free  to  every  member  of  the  League,  and  as  its  printed  mailing-lists  of  nearly  10,000  names  are  pub- 
licly accesuble,  the  editor  and  publisher  has  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  manageiB  of  the  other  weeklies  is  to  convince  advertisers 
that  a  smaller  circulation,  as  compared  with  the  BMlleiin*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.  6ao.) 

The  object  of  the  lVheelmeH*s  Gazette  is  to  advertise  the  annual  tournament  of  the  Spring- 
field Bicycle  Club^  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  atad 
superintendent  of  the  latter.  Having  thus  a  definite  business-basis  which  the  other  papers  liick, 
he  is  enabled  to  imdersell  them  and  attract  an  enormous  mass  of  half-dollar  Bubscribers,->^sti-  . 
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  similaur 
exhibit.  Their  refusal  to  do  this,  or  to  allow  the  inspection  of  their  subscription-books  and 
mailing-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. 
Names  thus  returned  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 
largest  and  most  authentic  record  of  the  sort  in  existence.  The  names  upon  it,  Aug.  1,  »86, 
numbered  28,423,  but  probably  included  no  more  than  half  the  wheelmen  of  the  country.  The 
owner  of  this  list,  though  freely  exhibiting  it,  will  not  allow  copies  to  be  taken,  but  he  will  agree 
to  send  tradesmen's  catalogues,  circulars,  and  the  like,  to  all  the  addresses  mentioned,  or  to  any 
desired  proportion  of  them,  at  a  stipulated  rate.  He  had  hardly  more  than  8000  of  these  ad- 
dresses when  he  distributed  the  first  issue  of  the  Gasette  (Apr.,  '83),  "  published  monthly  by 
the  Springfield  B.  C,  to  call  attention  to  its  tournament  in  Sept."  His  valedictory  of  that 
month  said  :  "  There  is  hardly  a  comer  of  the  globe  where  the  paper  has  not  been  read,— 70,000 
copies  having  been  printed.     By  carefully  interlarding  our  business  announcements  with  '  good 


662  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

readiog,'  we  succeeded  in  making  an  adTertiaement  which  coold  not  escape  attention.    We  have 
not  stayed  long  enough  to  wear  out  our  welcome,  and  we  are  confident  that  we  should  be  kmdlj 
received  if  we  should  ever  come  again."    The  first  four  numbers  each  had  i6  pp. ;  the  oAcr 
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,  *&«> 
proclaimed  that  the  GaattU  would  thenceforth  be  a  pennanent  monthly  journal  of  cycfing,  en- 
tered for  second-class  mail-rates  at  the  post-ofiice,  sold  for  5  c  a  copy  or  50  c  a  year  (30  c  to 
dubs  of  20  or  more),  and  printed  from  plates  formed  on  a  new  font  of  type.    The  reading  nat- 
ter of  the  la  numbers  was  ps^d  regularly  from  i  to  aia,  and  the  numerous  advertinng  pages 
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  a  12,  ezclosive  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  claim  raised  by  the  Overman  Wheel  Cow  that  its  title-page 
could  not  be  sold  to  any  other  patron.     Rather  than  submit  to  such  a  view  of  their  contract, 
the  GazeiWs  publishers  voted  to  dissolve  partnership,  put  a  legal  end  to  the  paper,  and  arrasge 
with  H.  £.  Ducker  to  fill  all  unexpired  subscriptions  with  a  new  monthly  Whnlmtem^s  Gawttt, 
whose  first  number  appeared  in  April.    The  removal  of  the  adjective  Springfield^  which  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  miduuiged  from 
the  sUrt,— but  it  is  called  "  Vol.  I."  instead  of  "  Vol.  IV."    Since  Apr.,  '8$,  the  plan  has  been 
observed  of  having  the  outside  pages  or  cover  vary  in  color,  from  month  to  month, — thus  lender- 
ing  easy  the  selection  of  different  issues  when  pUed  together.     Portraits,  pictoria]  initials,  litho- 
graphic or  wood-engraved  cartoons  and  illustrated  advertising  supplements  also  help  give  variety 
to  the  GaaetU.    It  accepts  half-yearly  subscriptions  for  25  c,  but  the  rate  is  douUed  on  al 
copies  mailed  abroad,  because  of  increased  postage.    The  American  News  Co.,  of  N.  V.,  is  its 
agency  for  supplying  the  trade ;  and  it  has  an  arrangement  with  the  publisher  of  Wkuiimgt 
whereby  that  English  weekly  may  be  mailed  from  London  to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  and 
also  the  GaattU  from  Springfield,  on  payment  to  the  latter  of  $2  a  year,  which  is  the  price  ef 
the  former  alone.     In  Jan.,  '85,  ite  Canadian  subscribers  exceeded  800,  England  supplied  neariy 
aop,  and  other  foreign  countries  50;  though  I  suppose  that  the  rest  of  the  American  whed 
papers  have  no  outside  circulation  whatever.    The  typography  of  the  Gtu^Ue  is  noC  only  hand- 
somer than  that  of  any  other  journal  produced  by  the  cycling  trade  in  any  part  of  the  wwU,  bet 
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  omitted,  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,  ootside  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  admittcdythe  general  effect 
is  pleasing  and  satisfactory.    The  main  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  prevent  the 
appearance  of  a  vast  deal  of  interesting  reading-matter  whose  character  is  more  general,  and  of 
much  good  writing.     Indeed,  for  any  carefully-written  article,  designed  to  influence  cyders,  ilw 
Gamlte  is  now  the  most  attractive  and  effective  medium, — ^for  the  BtiBetm**  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  drcumstanoes,  from  the  5th  to  the  asth. 
Perhaps  it  is  because  of  the  brightness  of  early  assodations  that  the  first  volume  of  the  Bky^ 
cling  H^arld{442  pp.  in  26  fortnightly  numbers;  Nov.  15,  '79,  to  Oct.  30,  '80;  $2.50  a  year  or 
10  c.  a  copy)  seems  to  me  superior  to  any  which  have  succeeded  it.    At  all  events,  1  think  the 
cycling  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.  28,  '81 ;  then  at  8  Pemberton  Square  (see  p.  104)  until  the  destruction  of  the 
building  caused  a  removal,  Feb.  26,  '86;  since  which  time  it  has  been  at  179  Tremont  St.,  oveiw 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  663 

looking  the  Common.  The  later  volumes  (dating  from  Not.  la,  *So)  have  each  consisted  of  36 
weekly  numbers,  paged  as  follows :  II,  420;  III,  320;  IV,  316  ;  V,  320  numbered  from  317  to 
^6);  VI,  316;  VII,  350;  VIII,  362;  IX,  446;  X,49o;  XI,  608;  XII,  500.  The  set  of  12 
Tols.,  bound,  may  stiU  be  procured  for  $15,  or  ungle  bound  vols,  for  $2,  though  only  a  few  of 
the  first  four  are  left.  Each  is  supplied  with  a  title-page  and  contents-Uble  (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 
$3  during  the  second  volume,  $2  for  the  next  five  yean,  and  on  June  4,  *86,  was  reduced  to  ^i, 
— «ngle  copies  being  priced  at  10  c.  until  May  13,  *8i ;  then  7  c.^ until  June  7,  '84,  and  5  c.  since. 
The  B,  W.  had  16  pp.  during  the  10  c.  period,  12  pp.  during  the  7  c.  period,  and  16  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  voliune  was  from  the  press  of  Rockwell  &  Churchill.  Double-columns  were  used 
for  the  first  20  numbers,  giving  a  better  typographic  effect  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  World,  as  a  reminder  of  it.  Between  the  dates  men- 
tioned, 2  or  3  pages  of  each  issue  were  given  to  archery,  and  "  and  A rchery  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  $1  a  year;  but  I  suppose  the  archers  soon  let  it  die.  (Its 
pctt-mortem  **  good-wiU  "  attached  to  the  Archery  <&•  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,  Recreaiion.)  The  name  of  Charles  E.  Pratt  (b.  Mar.  13, 
'45),  as  sole  editor  and  manager,  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  B.  IV.,  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 
attached  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.  IV.  has  kept  its  title  clear  from 
all  such  irrelevant  matter.  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.  £.  Gilman,  president  of  the  Chelsea  B.  C,  an  enthusiastic  wheelman 
for  over  three  years,  and  a  journalist  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  Official 
Oipin  of  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen  "  formed  a  part  of  the  heading  from  Nov.  11,  *8i, 
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  interpobtii^ 
such  advertisements  into  the  body  of  the  paper,  and  "  displaying  "  them  with  enorroous  bSack 
type.  Hence,  the  B.  fV.'s  appearance  is  that  of  a  collection  of  tradesmen's  handbills,  stiick 
together  by  a  few  columns  of  letter-press ;  and  this  description  applies  about  as  «rcU  to  nearly 
all  the  other  trade-circulars  which  make  up  the  cycling  journalism  of  America  and  England. 
"  Published  every  Friday  by  £.  C.  Hodges  &  Co."  was  a  formula  of  many  years'  standii^ 
which  gave  place,  on  Apr.  2,  '86,  to  "  by  Bi.  World  Co.,"  which  had  been  the  formula  dnriag 
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  helping  spread  the  gospel  of  cydo^, 
and  who  now,  as  a  stockholder  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,  '84,  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  mo- 
tual  consent.  Mr.  D.  will  still  continue  with  the  paper,  as  editorial  contributor  and  wxiter  oa 
special  topics,  and  the  business  will  continue  under  the  same  firm  name  as  heretofore."  As  this 
firm  name  remained  "  £.  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  ownenhip. 
A  dissolution  of  partnership,  under  the  firm  name  *'  Bi.  World  Co.,"  between  £.  C.  Ho^es, 
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  A  m.  Bi.  Jmtmal.  The  genial  promoter  of  thai 
harbinger  of  our  literature  was  associated  with  us  as  publisher  until  last  January,  thou^  at  tbe 
same  time  connected  with  a  wheel  importing  house ;  but,  with  that  exception,  there  has  beea 
no  connection,  of  publisher  or  editor,  with  any  manufacturer,  importing  house  or  agenqr."  A 
fortnight  later  the  paper  said  :  ''  Mr.  Pratt  has  removed  his  office  to  the  salesrooms  of  the  Pbpe 
Mfg.  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,  *8a),  the  Popes  withdrew  their  advertisement,  which  had  been 
a  feature  of  the  B.  W.  from  the  outset,  because  its  publisher  refused  to  insert  their  reply  to  the 
criticisms  of  a  correspondent,  "  except  as  a  i?aid  business  notice  " ;  and  they  did  not  resume  pat- 
ronage until  Sept.  ai,  '83  (the  "spedal  Springfield  number"). 

From  the  time  of  this  rupture,  the  tone  of  the  paper  has  been  uniformly  hostile  towards  its 
first  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  aie 
at  swords'  points,  and  the  B.  H^.  continually  attacks  Mr.  Bassett,  whose  circular  announcing  the 
Cyclf  (a  16-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.  fV.,l  am  obliged  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  peri- 
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  my  new 
home,  and  I  can  safely  promise  a  readable  and  an  instructive  paper."  The  manager  of  the  B.  fK 
having  made  a  formal  attack  on  him,  because  of  this,  in  the  BulUtin^  he  replied  in  that  paper  as 
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  '81  and  was  with  it 
within  a  few  months  of  5  years.     So  long  as  Mr.  Oilman  was  editor,  I  had  little,  if  anything,  to 


UTERATC/RE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  665 

^b  wiUi  editorial  work.  When  the  B,  W.  foond  its  tBoome  reduced  by  its  fight  with  the  Pope 
Itf  fg.  Co.,  Mr.  G.  had  to  retire  to  save  expense,  and  I  became  editor  in  fact,  thongh  not  in  name. 
Mr.  Dean  was  better  known  as  a  cycler  than  I  vras  and  his  name  was  put  forward  as  editor, 
though  all  his  manuscript  went  through  my  hands  for  correaion  and  revision.  When  Mr.  D. 
■accepted  the  position  of  attorney  for  the  Coventry  Machinist  Cow  he  was  dlschaiged  from  the 
B,  Sy.  because  as  attorney  for  that  company  he  was  opposed  to  the  Overman  Wheel  Co.,  who 
were  pressing  the  Coventry  people  on  the  Burn  patent.  From  the  time  of  Mr.  D.'s  dismissal  I 
was  both  editor  and  editorial  writer,  though  I  was  forced  to  publish  articles  that  did  not  meet 
my  approval.  With  this  statement  of  the  case  I  have  done  with  it.  I  leave  my  friends  of  the 
League  to  decide  whether  or  no  I  have  played  the  honorable  part.  Had  I  been  allowed  to  con- 
■duct  the  paper  according  to  the  dictates  of  my  conscience  and  good  business  policy  I  should 
have  been  in  my  old  chair  to<lay."  The  CycU  u  published  at  aa  School  St.,  and  has  advertise- 
ments and  reading  matter  on  alternate  pages.  As  its  rate  is  ^1.50,  the  reduction  from  #3  to  #1 
by  B.  W.  seems  intended  to  crush  the  new  competitor,  whose  size  is  a  third  smaller  and  price 
a  third  larger.  Its  best  chance  of  longevity  inheres  in  the  fact  that  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.  may  feel 
disposed  to  prevent  its  obliteration  by  the  old-established  trade-circular  of  the  opposition  concern. 

An  example  of  Mr.  Basaett*s  industry  as  a  compiler  was  given  in  the  "  B.  IV,  special  num- 
ber "  (Jan.  I,  '83)  and  "  special  number  supplement "  (Oct.  i,  ^83),  which  oontauned  League 
constitution,  lists  of  club  officers,  racing  records,  tables  of  best  tiroes,  and  other  statistics  not 
«aslly  obtainable.  The  B,  H^.  has  also  occasionally  published  woodcut  portraits  and  cartoons ; 
and  has  never  been  sparing  of  extra  pages  when  important  news  needed  to  be  chronicled.  Of 
its  "  illustrated  special  midwinter  number  "  (Jan.  14,  '81),  ao,ooo  copies  were  printed.  From 
the  foundation  of  the  League  until  May  25,  '83,  it  served  satisfactorily  as  its  "  organ  "  (as  de- 
tailed on  p.  618),  and  since  then  has  regularly  printed  the  lists  of  American  applicants  for  mem- 
t>ership  in  the  English  C.  T.  C.  Though  professing  still  to  ^vor  the  League,  and  to  have  no 
fear  of  its  BnlUim  as  a  business  competitor,  the  writer  of  any  hostile  comment  concerning  either 
is  always  sure  of  a  welcome  to  its  columns.  Mr.  Dean  was  caulogued  as  a  special  student  at 
the  Harvard  Law  School,  in  '83-4,  and  has  since  practiced  that  profession  at  28  State  st.  He 
has  taken  two  or  three  trips  to  Europe,  and  he  figured  somewhat  on  the  racing-path,  in  the 
earlier  days  of  the  sport.  His  connection  with  the  B.  IV.  has  been  that  of  a  free-lance. 
He  seems  to  enjoy  playing  with  the  paper,  when  nothing  more  important  is  at  hand ;  and  his 
pen  seems  most  effective  when  pointed  with  satire  and  sarcasm.  Mr.  Bassett,  on  the  other 
hand,  belongs  to  the  steady-going,  "  heavy-respectable  "  type  of  writer,  and  I  believe  he  is  the 
only  man  in  America  who  has  earned  a  livelihood  for  as  much  as  five  years  by  exclusive  devotion 
to  the  business  of  cycling  journalism.  The  B.  W.  represents  the  expenditure  of  more  hard 
work,  and  more  money,  than  any  of  the  other  younger  trade-circulars  which  compete  with  it ; 
and  much  mismanagement  will  be  required  to  destroy  the  traditional  prestige  thus  won  as  an 
enterprising  and  decently-written  newspaper.  It  is  quoted  more  frequently  than  the  yout  ger 
prints,  and  (in  proportion  to  its  circulation,  about  which  the  proprietors  have  always  kept  silent) 
is  probably  read  more  carefully.  Its  present  chief  editor,  Mr.  Fourdrinier  (b.  Mar.  34,  '54)  is  a 
native  of  Hanley,  Staffordshire,  Eng.,  and  is  engaged  in  the  insurance  business,  as  for  years 
past,  though  he  has  always  done  more  or  less  writing  for  the  press. 

"In  the  fall  of  '80,  three  enthusiastic  cyclers  were  sitting  in  the  office  of  Wm.  M.  Wright,  bicy- 
cle dealer,  at  160  Fulton  st.  One  was  a  practical  printer,  another  a  newspaper  writer,  and  the 
third  a  business  man.  The  Ulk  was,  as  usual,  about  bicycling,  and  it  finally  drifted  upon  the 
•ubject  of  bi.  literature.  The  proposition  to  start  a  fortnightly,  at  $1.25  (half  the  price  of  the  fort- 
nightly i?.  W,,  the  only  paper  than  in  the  field)  was  snapped  up  at  once,  and  our  three  worthies 
were  soon  racking  their  brains  in  search  of  a  suitable  title.  Finally  the  Whetl  was  selected  as  a 
name.  Shortly  after  its  fourth  issue  the  associate  editor  was  laid  up  for  a  long  time,  and  his 
connection  with  its  columns  unavoidably  ceased.  Its  businev  manager  was  obliged  to  leave  the 
country,  and  the  burden  fell  upon  the  practical  printer,  who  has  from  that  day  to  this  controlled 
its  columns."  I  quote  the  latter's  words  from  a  historical  sketch  of  the  paper,  introducing  its 
fifth  year  and  seventh  volume,  Oct.  3,  '84.    The  first  number  (Sept  25.  'So)  announced  "  Fred 


666  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Jenkins,  ed.  and  proprietor;  M.  Lazare,  associate  ed. ;  C.  Otto  Manny,  bnaiiieas  xBtaa^ga.^ 
The  latter  name  did  not  again  appear,  and  the  second  was  last  printed  with  No.  &    "  Jnfian 
Wilcox,  associate  ed.,*'  appeared  with  No.  15,  and  continued  for  just  a  year,  or  till  Apr.  u.  '8a. 
He  usually  signed  **  J.  W.*'  to  his  writings,  which  were  of  a  serious  and  aipunentative  sort; 
and  he  has  since  printed  considerable  in  the  B.  W.  concerning  the  Fadle  bi.,  for  whicli  he  is 
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  al  1S7 
Broadway),  and  contained  a  farewell  editorial  from  F.  Jenkins  (b.  Jan.  ao,  '59),  sayings :  **  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  c 
ing  at  22  New  Church  st.,  at  ^1.50  a  year  "  ;  and  the  name  of  C.  E.  Pratt  was  printed  a 
it  as  '*  editorial  contributor  "  until  May  4,  '83.    C.  J.  Howard  and  A.  D.  Wheeler  1 
as  "  artistic  contributors,"  from  Jan.  24,  to  Nov.  9,  '83 ;  and  N.  M.  Bedtwith  and  W.  V. 
Oilman  as  "  editorial  contributors,"  from  June  i,  '83,  when  the  Wheel  became  "the  official 
oi^n  of  the  League,"  to  Feb.  29,  '84,  when  Mr.  J.  ceased  to  be  its  corresponding  seoetary. 
Meftnwhile,  the  name  of  Edwin  Oliver,  as  business  manager,  was  printefl  from  Dec  6,  "82,  to 
Feb.  7,  '83,  after  which  the  firm-name  "  Oliver  &  Jenkins  "  took  the  place  of  "  Wheel  Putfisb- 
ing  Co.,"  for  a  year,  and  was  followed  (Feb.  15,  '84)  by  "  Cycling  Publishing  Co."  until  super- 
seded  by  "  Ontral  Press  &  Publishing  Co.,"  Mar.  5,  '86,  when  the  length  of  the  coluams  wan 
reduced  a  half-inch.    The  size  of  the  present  page  when  trimmed  is  only  about  a  half^nch 
longer  and  broader  than  the  regular  9  by  12  in.  untrimmed  page  of  the  Wheers  first  five  volmies. 
From  Apr.  4,  '84,  to  Sept.  25,  *85,  it  was  an  8  p.  sheet,  of  11  by  13^  in.,  set  in  four  oolixinm; 
and  the  pages  were  then  narrowed  an  inch,  increased  in  number  to  12,  and  set  in  three  cbhiains, 
which  had  been  the  style  from  the  time  the  paper  became  a  weekly.    It  adopted  an  omaunental 
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  froa 
I  to  208.    Their  typography  pleased  me  better  than  that  of  the  weekly,  which  was  p^ed  £rain  1 
to  8  or  I  to  12  only,  until  at  the  end  of  '84  the  paging  was  entirely  abandoned.    No  contentSp<a.biea 
or  indexes  have  ever  been  printed.     Friday  was  first  noted  as  publication  day  on  Apr.  6,  *83.    Ita 
price  was  reduced  from  ^1.25  to  ^i,  July  6,  '81  (after  B.  IV.  reduced  to  %£) ;  raised  to  ^1.50  when 
weekly  issue  began,  Oct.  4 ;  reduced  to  7s  c,   Oct  5,  '83,  and  raised  again  to  $1,  Mar.  7,  ^ 
Advertisements  early  appeared  on  the  title-page  of  the  fortnightly  but  were  kept  o£F  that  of  the 
weekly  till  the  close  of  '85 ;  and  the  rule  banishing  them  therefrom  was  again  adopted  June  25,  *SGl 
Otherwise,  the  paper  is,  like  the  B.  tV.,z.  "  sandwich  circular,"  with  handbills  and  letterpress 
alternating.    Vaux  ft  Co.,  of  27  Rose  St.,  were  named  as  printers,  June  i  to  Nov.  a,  '83  ;  then 
B.  W.  Dinsmore  &  Co.,  of  15  Frankfort  St.,  to  Mar.  28,  '84.    The  publication  office  wan 
changed  to  21  Park  row,  on  May  30,  '84;    and  then  to  12  Vesey  st.,  May  15,  '85 ;  azid  the 
printing  has  rince  been  done  there  by  W.  N.  Oliver  ft  Co.  (the  junior  partner  being  F.  JenkinsX 
and  the  "  Central  Press  ft  Publishing  Co.,"  which  was  adopted  as  a  firm  name  Jan.  22,  '86l 
A  fortnight  later,  the  simple  announcement  was  made  :  "  Mr.  Fred  Jenkins  on  the  tst  innaaC 
resigned  his  position  as  editor  of  the  IVkeelj  and  severed  his  connection  with  this  joaraaL** 
Since  then  he  has  established  himself  at  322  W.  59th  St.,  as  dealer  in  cycles,  and  manufacturer  of 
the  Excelsior  cyclometer  (which  he  introduced  to  the  public  ui  the  IVlkeel  of  Nov.  20,  *So),  and 
he  also  finds  time  to  send  a  weekly  "  manifold  "  letter  to  the  Buttetm^  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  Frands  P.  Prial 
(b.  Nov.  22,  '63),  who  had  been  similarly  employed  by  the  CycUsl  &•  Athlete  from  June,  *84. 
At  the  time  of  the  tournament  of  »83,  in  order  to  give  greater  vogue  to  the  '*  Springfidd 
number  of  the  B.  W.,"  the  publisher  thereof  suppressed  the  Wheel  for  two  weeks,  by  the  trick 
of  persuading  the  authorities  at  Washmgton  to  "  investigate  "  iu  right  of  drculating  in  th» 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  667 

BMib  at  the  seconil-daM  rate  of  poaUfe  accorded  to  ragktered  newspapeii.  The  withdrawal  of 
this  right  would  have  been  ruinous,  because  the  payment  of  third<da8s  postage  would  have 
swallowed  up  the  narrow  maigin  of  profit  on  the  contract  for  supplying  the  paper  to  the  League. 
Of  cooTM,  the  right  was  not  withdrawn  ;  but  the  *'  investigaticm  "  served  the  purpoae  of  annoy- 
ing each  member  of  the  League  by  delaying  two  copies  of  his  paper.  The  IVhttl  explained  the 
natter,  Oct.  la,  and  the  B.  W,  defended  iu  act,  Oct.  19.  It  gave  another  proof  of  a^ection  for 
iu  rival,  Feb.  19,  '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  lVJu€l,  it  is  proposed  to  incorporate  the  Cycling  Pub.  Co.,  under  the  laws  of  '48,  and  issue 
aoo  shares  of  stock  at  #25,  to  form  a  capital  of  %yooo.  Half  of  this  stock  will  be  issued  to  Oliver 
&  Jenkins,  in  payment  for  the  good-will,  subscription-list  and  advertising  contracts  of  the  Whttl^ 
and  the  remaining  100  shares  will  form  a  working  capital  of  #3500,  which  we  consider  ample. 
The  publishix^  expenses  are  mediate  and  can  be  kept  at  a  low  figure.  Mr.  J.  will  be  retained 
as  editor  and  manager,  at  a  weekly  salary  of  #25,  and  Mr.  O.  will  superintend  the  advertising 
bttsaneas  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  10  to  13  per  cent  Should  you  care  to  enter 
into  the  scheme,  we  will  submit  figures,  showing  the  net  profits  under  past  managemenL  Upon 
subscribing,  25  per  cent,  is  to  be  paid,  and  the  balance  in  three  equal  monthly  payments.  Your 
answer  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  others,  incorporators.  Address  replies  to  F.  J." 
How  much  of  a  "  working  capital  "  may  have  been  raised  in  this  way  I  am  not  aware,  but  I 
presume  it  was  all  worked  out  when  the  "  Cydii^  Pub.  Co."  made  its  last  appearance,  Feb. 
a6,  '86.  The  WkMl  called  itself  the  "  Official  organ  of  the  (B.)  C.  T.  C.  in  America,"  from 
June  6,  'Sa,  to  Feb.  29,  '84 ;  and  its  year's  experience  as  League  organ  has  been  detailed  on  p. 
619.  The  chief  advertiser  during  the  fortnightly  period  was  the  Cunningham  Co.,  after  which 
the  Popes  took  the  lead ;  and  it  was  during  the  period  of  rupture  with  the  B*  JV.  that  their 
attorney,  Mr.  Pratt,  figured  as  "  editorial  contributor  "  to  the  first  31  weekly  issues  of  the  IVke^t 
and  helped  penuade  the  League  to  adopt  it  as  organ.  An  obituary  sf  S.  C.  Foster  (d.  Mar.  8, 
'85,  z.  31)  mentioned  him  as  having  suggested  the  paper's  name  and  contributed  much  to  its 
earlier  issues.  Boston  news  was  sent  to  it  in  those  days  by  "  Handy  Andy,"  the  present  mana- 
ger of  the  B.  IV.  Perhaps  iu  roost  peisistent  contributor  was  Frank  A.  Egan,  president  of  the 
Ixion  B.  C,  who  never  used  that  sigiuture,  but  preferred  to  print  his  paragraphs  beneath  the 
figure  of  an  owf,  eUnding  on  a  bicycle's  handle-bar,  with  a  pen  in  his  claw.  This  appeared 
Apr.  6,  '83,  and  pretty  regularly  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  }VikeFs  "  special  number  "  of  Apr.  3,  '85,  giving 
an  illustrated  programme  of  the  "  Big  Four  tour,"  was  also  a  pronounced  success.  The  policy 
of  its  manager  was  always  favorable  to  giving  a  "  free  boom  "  to  whatever  seemed  of  interest  to 
cyders,— in  contrast  to  the  B.  W.  plan  of  carefully  rejecting  all  "  gratuitous  advertising,"  in  the 
hope  of  fordng  a  sale  of  its  columns  for  "  reading  notices."  The  present  publishen  make  a 
specialty  of  '*  dubbing  rates  "  with  other  journals,  so  that  subscriben  who  send  in  their  money 
to  12  Vesey  SL  "  in  effect  receive  the  Wluel  free."  An  offer  to  mail  the  Whfl  free  to  each  of 
the  1600  League  memben  of  the  N.  Y.  Division,  for  the  sake  of  the  advertising  patronage  as 
"  official  organ,"  was  made  at  the  Division  meeting  of  June  39f'86,  and  "  declined  with  thanks.'^ 
In  describing  the  League's  unfortunate  and  unbusiness4ike  refusal  to  continue  in  '84  itscort- 
aection  with  the  Wht^,  which  had  served  it  well  for  a  year,  I  have  said  that  the  resulting 
"organ  "  was  a  shabby-looking  affair  (p.  620);  but  no  such  remark  could  apply  to  the  first 
number  of  the  AmaUur  AikkU^  published  by  Oliver  ft  Jenkins,  Apr.  4»  '83*  which  was  a  as 
p.  sheet  of  the  same  size  and  typography  of  the  Wktei^  and  whose  plan  probably  implied  the 


668  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

transfer  of  much  matter  from  one  paper  to  the  other  without  resetting.  It  was  advertised  as  a. 
$2  weekly,  '*  official  oigan  of  the  National  Association  of  Amateur  Athletes  of  America,  tlae 
Amateur  Athletic  Base  Ball  Association,  and  the  Intercollegiate  Athletic  Association,**  with  F. 
Jenkins  as  editor,  and  a  half-dozen  officers  of  the  associations  as  editorial  contribatora.  A  caO 
for  subscriptions  appeared  as  late  as  the  June  issue  of  the  1^'hedma^s  GaattU  ;  but  I  thiidi  a 
suspension  took  place  about  that  time,  as  money  was  steadily  lost  on  every  number.  Sereial 
months  later,  W.  F.  Coffee,  jr.,  revived  the  sheet  as  a  fortnightly;  and  after  he  had  abo  kMft 
enough  money  (at  the  end  of  a  half-year,  I  think)  a  transfer  was  made  to  Baird  &  Co. ,  who  tamed 
it  into  a  weekly  in  season  to  offer  it  as  a  bait  for  the  "  League  organship.'*  This  began  with  the 
issue  of  June  12,  '84,  which  was  designated  as  "  No.  25  of  the  Amateur  AtUetg  and  No.  44  of 
the  Archery  £r*  Tennis  News^**  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  CjKlist  EdUmm  ^ 
Amateur  Athlete^  for  65  c.  a  year,  while  the  conglomerated  paper  of  16  ^,  cost  %^,  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  ^1,  to  have  the  r6  p.  mongrel  sent  to  him  instead.  Of 
the  Archery  ^  Tennis  News  it  may  be  said  that  43  numbers  were  issued  independently,  die 
final  one  (June  2,  '84),  which  announced  absorption  by  the  Athiete^  being  called  "  Vol.  3,  Nol 
7."  I  have  already  explained  that  it  was  a  sort  of  continuation  of  the  Archery  FieU,  wbich 
began  as  a  |i  fortnightly  at  Boston,  in  May,  *8c,  after  having  existed  nine  months  as  a  depart- 
ment in  the  weekly  B.  W.  This  third  experiment,  the  A.  &*  T.  Netus,  was  planned  to  appear 
monthly  for  the  first  half  of  each  year  and  semi-monthly  for  the  last  half,  at  a  subscription  oi 
$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  Alh/ete^s  archery 
column,  and  so  spoke  his  farewell  on  Aug.  21.  On  Apr.  23,  '86,  the  paper  was  revived  with 
the  reversed  title  of  Tennis  &*  Archery  News  ("  Vol.  6,  No.  r;,  whole  No.  138  "),  as  a  4  p. 
supplement  to  the  Athlete^  audit  kept  that  shape  for  two  months,  or  until  transformed  into 
departments  of  Recreation^  the  successor  of  the  Athlete.  Meanwhile,  Jan.  t,  '85,  the  nane  ol 
this  had  been  changed  to  Cyclist  A*  Athlete,  and  the  style  of  the  firm  to  Baird  Brothers,  who  ao- 
nounced  the  suspension  of  the  concern  OcL  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  $t  and  its  pages  to  8,  though  these  were  after- 
wards mcreased  to  is  and  16.  On  Mar.  26,  it  was  announced  that  D.  M.  Kurtz  had  withdrawa 
from  and  E.  R.  Collins  joined  the  staff ;  that  the  office  had  been  changed  from  800  Bread  St.  to 
No.  7S5 ;  that  a  stock  company  was  being  incorporated  to  act  as  publishers ;  and  that  C  L. 
Meyers  would  continue  manager  of  the  branch  office  at  125  Chambers  St.,  N.  V.  City.  No 
further  change  was  noted  until  the  paper  reached  the  end  of  its  semi-annual  volume,  June  as* 
and  no  notice  was  given  then  that  this  126th  number  was  the  final  one;  but,  on  the  following  week, 
there  was  issued,  from  the  same  office,  "Recreatien,  an  illustrated  journal  of  outdoor  life,  Vol. 
I,  No.  I,  published  every  Saturday  by  the  Cyclist  Printing  Co.,  at  1 1.50  a  year."  The  illustra- 
tions of  this  first  number  were  taken  from  the  Stevens  series  in  Outings  and  from  Texas  Si/t- 
ings; and,  in  combination  with  a  well-drawn  heading,  and  the  banishment  of  advertisements  fran 
the  title-page,  they  helped  make  it  an  incomparably  better-looking  paper  (20  pp.,  5c)  than  its 
predecessor  had  ever  been.  The  C.&*  A.oi  July  3,  '85,  the  first  issue  after  the  expiration  of  its 
contract  for  supplying  the  League  an  8  p.  ga^tte  at  }  c.  per  copy,  printed  its  offer  for  contin- 
uing the  contract  at  the  same  price,  but  allowing  2}  pp.  of  reading  matter  (or  double  the 
allowance  of  the  first  contract)  and  charging  %%  a  column  for  extra  space,  instead  of  $5  as  before. 
The  League  having  rejected  this,  in  favor  of  printing  its  own  BuUetrn^  the  publishers  then  ad- 
dressed themselves  to  the  chief  consul  of  the  New  York  Division,  with  an  offer  to  send  the  16  p. 
sheet  to  each  member  for  \  c.  per  copy.  A  "  mail  vote  **  of  the  1300  members  brought  only  i» 
replies,  but  as  only  30  of  these  were  negative,  a  trial-contract  was  made,~!tt8dng  from  Aag.  7 
to  Jan.  I,  during  which  the  C  d^  ^4.  called  itself  "  official  organ  of  the  Division.'*    At  the  an- 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  669 

•«U  aeetiiig  of  the  Division,  Sq^  la,  the  tentiment  wsa  niuuiiraonaly  hottile  to  the  "  organ  " 
VHt  the  contraa  was  not  canceled.  The  vote  against  renewing  it  (taken  by  mail  in  Mar.,  'M) 
«u  ai6  to  II ;  and  this  probably  had  an  influence  upon  the  Division  oflken,  three  monthit  later, 
when  they  declined  to  recognize  any  "org^  "  wbatever,-<eveo  though  the  H^httl  oJered  to 
onail  1 500 copies  gratuitously,  each  week.  "  The  weekly  circulation  of  RtcretUian  w  guaranteed 
to  be  at  least  1500  copies,"— a  sutenient  to  that  effect  being  printed  at  the  head  of  iu  editorial 
columns,— and  it  is  widely  distributed  by  the  American  News  Co.  among  the  dealers.  lu 
daance  for  commanding  a  respectable  sale  at  the  news-sunds  seems  better  than  that  of  the  older 
toade-drculars,  because  its  pictured  front-p^ge  is  more  attractive,  and  its  well<hoaen  title  is  cal* 
ciliated  to  conceal  the  predominance  which  cycling  still  holds  in  its  letterpress,  llie  archers, 
aiad  tennis  players,  and  patrons  of  what  Mr.  Pratt  used  to  call  "other  polite  athletics,"  and 
kuy  people  who  covet  a  repuution  for  being  interested  in  reading  about  "  breezy,  outdoor  life," 
—are  all  likely  enough  to  be  beguiled,  at  times,  into  squandering  5  c  on  the  casual  purchase  of 
a  good  looking  picture-paper  with  so  comprehensive  a  name  as  Rtcrgution  ;  whereas  none  of 
them  would  adroit  to  their  houses  a  mere  "  advertising  sandwich  "  with  so  restrictive  a  title  as 
Wke^  or  BL  WorU,  or  so  obtrusively  brutal  a  title  aa  Cyclist  ^  Athlete,  '*  Bad-will "  rather 
than  "  good-will "  was  what  the  originators  of  this  title  sold  to  the  men  who  revived  the  luckless 
sheet  at  Newark  in  November;  and  though  the  new  owners  very  soon  improved  the  quality 
of  the  reading  matter,  and  increased  the  circulation  to  "  2500  or  more  copies  each  week  "  (cer- 
tifying  to  the  same  by  affidavit),  they  seem  to  have  finally  found  themselves  sinking  beneath  the 
weight  of  their  top-heavy  title.  Its  "  tst "  and  its  ill-repute  were  like  a  blight  and  an  incubus 
npon  their  best  efforts  at  reform.  The  death  of  that  wild  Western  print  in  Michigan — ^the  only 
other  one  in  America  which  had  presumed  to  court  popular  contempt  by  calling  itself  C^tclist^ 
perhaps  helped  to  strengthen  the  popular  de«re  that  this  second  *'  kt  "  should  be  buried  also ; 
for  the  very  siKht  of  it  was  apt  to  arouse  a  sort  of  resentful  memory  of  its  two  bad  bai^gains  with 
the  I^eagnff.  The  happy  thought  of  wiping  out  old  scores,  and  beginning  over  again  as  Vol.  i, 
No.  1  of  Keereati^m,  is  to  be  accredited  to  J.  W.  Barnes  (b.  Jan.  a8,  '57),  the  secretary  of  the 
stock  company  who  are  the  owners  and  publishers.  He  is  a  graduate  of  Lafayette  Coll.  in  '80 
Ca  brother  of  Prctf.  S.  G.  Barnes,  of  Iowa  Coll.,  whoaa  I  have  quoted  on  p.  323),  and  has  been 
the  leading  spirit  in  the  enterprise  since  iu  transfer  to  Newark.  E.  R.  O^lins,  of  Summit,  and 
C  H.  Townsend  continue  associated  with  him  in  the  editorship,  though  no  names  of  editors 
are  printed.  RtcrtaiiaH^*  best  chance  for  financial  success  seems  to  me  to  lie  in  the  direction 
of  reproducing  pictures  enough  to  make  the  paper  sell  at  sight  from  the  news-etanda.  The 
we  of  old  cuta  which  belong  to  Outings  the  Whetl^  Puck  and  other  papers,  can  be  had  at  slight 
expense;  and,  if  selections  are  judiciously  made,  they  will  be  just  about  as  efficacious  as  new 
ones  to  attraaing  the  patronage  of  a  new  generation  of  readers. 

"  The  official  gazette  of  the  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association  and  of  the  C.  T.  C.  in  Canada  ** 
has  been  a  sub-title  of  the  CamuUim  IVhtelttum  since  the  beginning  of  its  second  volume  (Oct., 
'S4);  but  only  since  the  beginning  of  the  third  volume  (Nov.,  '85)  has  it  been  directly  *'  pub- 
liahed  by  the  C.  W.  A.,  monthly,  at  420  Talbot  St.,  London,  Ont.,  and  supplied  to  all  members ; 
subscription  price  to  others,  $1."  The  editing  during  this  latter  period  has  been  done  by  the 
president  of  the  association,  J.  S.  Brierley  <b.  Mar.  4,  '$8),  of  the  St.  Thomas  Journal^  aasinted 
sosMwhat  by  the  secretary-treasurer,  H.  B.  Donly  (b.  Jan.  4,  *6i),  of  the  Simc^e  Rt/crmer, 
though  their  names  have  not  been  printed  as  editors.  The  first  volume  (Sept.  '83,  to  Aug.,  *84 ; 
pp.  iia)  named  W.  Kingsley  Evans  as  editor,  and  he  announced  in  June  the  purchase  by  him- 
sdf  of  the  interest  of  J.  B.  Dignam,  who  was  named  as  business  manager  during  those  first  nine 
aombers.  A  rather  fkmd  heading,  which  depicted  a  bicycler  in  grotesque  costume  and  attitude, 
served  during  that  period,  and  was  then  superseded  by  the  more  dignified  design  which  has 
ainos  been  in  vogue.  The  ad  vol.  was  paged  from  1  to  184  and  published  by  "  the  Wheelman 
Coi,  coaaposed  of  24  of  the  roost  prominent  members  of  the  C.  W.  A.,"  with  J.  S.  Brierley  as 
secretary-treasurer,  H.  B.  Donly  as  Association  editor,  and  W.  K.  Evans  as  chief  editor,  with 
H.  S.  Ttbbs,  of  Montreal,  and  W.  0.  Sakins,  of  Toronto,  as  assisUnto.  They  announced  in. 
September  that  they  were  *'  considerably  out  of  pocket  by  their  year's  engagement  to  provide 


670 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


the  C  W.  A.  with  an  organ.  Subscriptions  have  been  inugnificant  in  number,  oompellnc  die 
company,  in  justice  to  its  advertisers,  to  send  out  many  free  copies.  Apathy  and  iiidigcieiice 
have  been  shown  by  the  general  membership.  The  Wfuelman  will  not  cease  to  exist,  bat  «3I 
no  longer  be  published  under  the  same  auspices."  Its  issue  had  been  semi-monthly  from  Bf^ 
to  August,  and  London  had  continued  the  publication-place,  as  from  the  ontset.  Its  cost  for 
the  year  had  been  about  ;$6oo,  and  its  receipts  ^100  from  subscriptions,  $250  from  adveitxacniests 
and  1^96  from  grant  of  C.  W.  A., — showing  a  loss  of  about  $150,  to  be  divided  among  its  94 
publishers.  The  latter  declined  to  continue  it  another  year,  even  for  an  increased  sabddy  of 
^200,  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  eztia 
numbers  of  summer,  and  its  advertising  receipts  increased  by  the  fact  of  its  assured  cireul»- 
tion  among  nearly  1000  wheelmen.  Accepting  this  aigument,  the  C.  W.  A.  decided  by  nail 
vote  to  be  its  own  publisher,  and  the  result  was  shown  to  be  satisfactory  by  the  report  tt  the 
annual  meet  of  July  i,  '86,  proving  the  net  cost  to  have  been  only  I120.  The  paper  is  wd 
printed  and  has  12  pp.,  of  standard  size  (9  by  xa  in.),  though  the  rule  for  the  first  seven  iirrnri 
was  8  pp.  The  editorial  vrork  has  been  done  with  decency  anfl  soberness — small  space  having 
been  granted  to  quarrels  or  personal  puffery,  or  sensational  paragraphing — and  oontributors  have 
been  encouraged  to  supply  solid  facts  of  advantage  to  tourists  and  road-riders.  The  official  re- 
port, showing  that  only  100  subscriptions  were  paid  during  the  second  year  (when  the  edtocs 
worked  gratuitously,  when  the  C.  W.  A.  gave  official  sanction,  and  indien  no  compeiitor  was 
known  in  the  whole  Dominion  of  Canada)  has  a  suggestive  interest  to  those  who  reflect  1 
the  probable  support  given  to  such  trade^circulars  in  the  United  States. 

Southern  road-riders  and  tourists  found  their  earliest  effective  exponent  in  the  . 
Cycltr  (monthly,  16  pp.  so  c,  begun  Nov.,  '84),  of  Memphis,  Tenn.,  edited  and  pobliahed  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  blodcptype  design  had  ap- 
peared,— ^and  the  first  four  nimibers  comprised  only  12  pp.  each.  The  paper  excels  ks  fonaer 
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  nEutter,"  as 
that  did.  Similar  praise  for  good  typography  and  proper  attention  to  local  interests  most  be 
accorded  to  the  Bicycle  South  (monthly,  16  pp.,  50  c,  begun  Dec.  '84),  publiahed  by  Huiter 
ft  Genslinger,  at  116  Gravier  st,  New  Orleans.  The  issue  of  July,  '86,  prints  the  vakdktofy 
of  the  man  who  had  served  as  editor  for  15  months,  W.  W.  Crane,  captain  of  the  N.  O.  Bw  C, 
saying  :  **  From  an  8  p.  sheet  taken  up  by  me  in  May,  '85,  this  paper  has  grown  to  la  and  then 
to  16  pp.,  and  I  now  withdraw  from  the  management,  leaving  it  a  sturdy,  healthy  and  paying  in- 
stitution." Hu  predecessor  was  G.  D.  McNathan,  and  his  successor  is  to  be  Sam  M.  Paiton 
(b.  July  i7,*57).  Its  proprietors  are  E.  W.  Hunter  (b.  1846)  and  Chas.  H.  Genslinger  (b.  1855),  who 
are  selling-agents  for  the  caligraph  and  whose  advertisement  says  :  "  Edited  and  pablidied  by 
wheelmen;  official  organ  of  the  Louisiana  Division  of  the  Lei^e ;  circulated  and  read  in  evcfy 
Southern  cycling  community  ;  live,  progressive,  entertaining,  and  50  c  per  year.  A  ramiatnre 
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  hea^ng,  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  amount  of  attention  in  the  Star  AduutmSi 
(monthly,  8  pp..  50  c. ;  begun  Mar.,  '85),  of  East  Rochester,  N.  H.,  in  so  far  as  any  space  can 
be  spared  from  its  main  purpose  of  advocating  the  American  Star  bicyde  as  the  crowning  tri- 
umph of  mechanical  genius.  This  type  of  safety  machine,  having  the  little  wheel  in  fatmt, 
seems  to  be  a  better  **  coaster"  than  any  other  ;  and  the  Advoc*iit^*  neatly-designed  hcadfag 
represents  a  rider  of  it  descending  a  steep  mountain-grade.  I  presume  this  is  designed  to  coss- 
memorate  the  exploit  ol  July  t6,  '83,  when  "  the  only  successful  coast  down  Mt.  WashinglDB'* 
was  taken  by  the  editor  and  publisher,  E.  H.  Corson  (b.  Oct.  26,  '48;  see  p.  sasX  By  the  cx- 
dusion  of  advertisements  from  the  title-page,  this  paper  ensores  itself  a  mora  atlractive  appear- 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  671, 

ttoce  thm  die  \utfia  and  more  pretentioas  tnde^iiciilan  can  boast  of ;  and  its  existenoe  is  a 
more  trtnarkshle  proof  than  theiis  ol  the  geooinencss  of  the  cycling  enthusiasm,  inasmuch  as 
its  entire  literary  support  must  oome  iram  men  who  are  zealous  for  this  special  sort  of  cycling. 
IThc  strong  sympathy  which  aJl  wheelmen  have  with  one  another  is  curiously  shown  by  this  fact 
tlaat  a  single  dass  of  them  take  pride  in  such  a  medium,  throu|^  which  they  may  tell  each  other 
how  much  better  a  machine  the  Star  is  than  all  its  rivals;  and  though  I  presume  the  H.B. 
Smith  Madiine  Co.  supply  more  cash  to  the  AdifcaU  than  all  its  other  subscribers,  the  list  of 
these  is  fauger  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 
Sreatly  by  trying  a  semi-monthly  issue  at  75  c.  during  the  first  quarter  of  the  second  year ;  and 
says,  father  deqiairingly :  "  We  now  resume  the  monthly,  and,  if  properly  supported,  we  shall 
keep  on ;  but  if  not-— good  bye.  Star  AduocaU"  The  editor  issued  in  Jan.,  '83  (ist  ed.  500 
copies,  so  a),  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.  (looo  copies ; 
Mar.,  ^86;  118  pp.  of  s8,coo  words,  weight  3  os.)  is  double  the  sixe  of  the  first  and  sells  for  75  c; 
and  the  most  readable  thing  added  to  it  is  the  story  of  "the  coast  down  Ml  Washington," 
which  asserts  that  the  St  Lonis  trio,  who  afterwards  attempted  the  same  trick  on  ordinary  bicy- 
des,  necessarily  failed  of  covering  the  entire  distance,  because  of  inability  to  remount  on  the 
steepest  pitches  where  headen  were  taken.  The  book  contains  so  wood-cuts  illustrating  the 
Star,  with  portraits  of  the  author,  and  of  the  inventor,  G.  W.  Pressey,  who  gives  a  history  of  the 
machine  and  incidentally  offere  the  opinion  that  "  ball  or  roller  bearings  in  use  on  bicycles  are 
simply  frauds  and  deceptions  "  (p.  is).  Before  the  Advocate  was  started,  Mr.  Corson  printed 
several  touring  reports  and  other  sketches  in  the  MltcJiatuc,  "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.    Its  issue  of  Sept.,  '83,  was  the  566th  ("  Vol.  13,  No.  8  "). 

The  monthly  A  murkoM  U^Jketimam,  of  St.  Louis,  has  sent  two  specimens  for  review,  in 
answer  to  my  request  Its  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  di£Eer8  in  shape  from  the  older  circulars  of  the  cycling  trade, 
fior  its  general  appeamnce  is  that  of  a  country  newspaper,  of  coarse  typography,  with  five  long 
columns  to  the  page,— the  final  one  being  given  to  advertisements,  in  letters  about  an  inch  high. 
The  publicatkm  of&ce  is  at  516  Olive  st,  and  the  price  so  c  a  year.  It  announced  L.  C.  S. 
Ladish  as  editor,  and  J.  T.  Smith  as  business  manager,  though  the  hitter's  half-interest  was 
purchased  in  July,  '86,  by  J.  S.  Rogers  (b.  Aug.  19*  '64),  chief  consul  for  Missouri.  Ito  salu. 
tatory  said :  "  To  a  large  number  of  wheelmen  we  are  already  personally  known  as  a  journalist 
*  *  That  we  diall  be  thoroughly  successful  in  our  endeavor  is  already  assured.  *  *  Otir 
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  portraits  of  our 
fast  or  eminent  riders,  and  pictures  illnstrative  of  interesting  touring  papers."  The  touring 
papers  in  the  January  number  were  reprinted,  without  credit,  from  the  Bi.  W^Hd^  for  which  Cohi 
E.  Stone  wrote  them  in  '83.  The  quality  of  the  editorial  paragraphs  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  sail  come  in  winner.  We  don't  object  to  giving  *  literary  fellows '  a  little  encouragement, 
but  we  draw  the  line  at  free  advertisements '  to  be  kept  standing  indefinitely.'  The  conibina- 
don  of  gigantic  gall  and  refrsshmg  naiotU  which  prompts  Karl  to  write  that '  it  cosU  us  noth- 
ing '  is  amusing.  Space,  dear  Karl,  is  a  newspaper  man's  real  estate,  and  if  you  want  any  of 
oufs  you  roust  pay  for  it  at  our  regubir  and  unvarying  rates.  You  may  mention  in  your  book 
that  we  are '  over  seven.' "  This  was  in  response  to  my  general  request  (which  nearly  all  the 
other  trade  papers  complied  wilii),  that  the  names  and  prices  of  all  cytding  books  in  the  market, 
sbonki  be  occasionally  aanoonced  as  a  matter  of  news  and  good  business-policy,  for  the  same 
reasons  urged  at  the  opening  of  the  present  chapter.  The  final  words  of  the  quoUtion  allude  to 
my  suggestion  that  I  desired  to  print  here  the  exact  a^es  of  all  the  oycUog  editors.    [Since  the 


672  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

foregoing  was  pnt  in  type,  I  have  leen  several  notices  of  the  paper  for  Aug.,  '86,  < 
ing  its  improved  typography  and  its  change  in  shape  to  the  standard  9  by  la  in.  page.  It  k  also 
reported  to  have  "  absorbed  "  both  the  Southern  CycUr  and  the  BkycU  Smiik.  Rumor  fraa 
Califoruia  says  that  a  new  monthly,  the  Pacific  Wktelman^  is  about  to  appear  at  San  Fna* 
dsco.  Springfield,  Ms.,  also  sends  out  in  SepL  the  Bicycle  Hertdd  (monthly,  4  pp.,  35  cX  ed. 
by  Rev.  H.  A.  King,  to  herald  his  new  safety  bicycle,    it  is  '*  pub.  by  the  BfttmgwiiMt  Ca**] 

The  Vermont  Bicycle ^  "  devoted  to  good  roads,  healthful  recreation  and  the  wheel  intcical,*' 
is  of  the  same  size  and  shape  as  the  St.  Louis  sheet  first  described,  though  its  "  hand-bfll  type  ** 
is  rather  more  pronounced.  The  seven  monthly  numbera,  Apr.  to  Oct.,  *86,  are  aeoi  lor  S5  c ; 
and  I  suppose  the  plan  is  to  supply  seven  similar  issues  in  '87  and  later  years  at  the  same  rate. 
"  A  copy  is  mailed  to  every  post-office  and  every  League  member  in  the  State  ;  and  a  columa 
advertisement,  17}  by  2|  in.,  costs  only  #3."  It  is  issued  at  West  Randolph,  Vt.,  by  U  P. 
Thayer,  dealer  in  cycles,  who  also  publishes  the  weekly  Herald  6^  Aewe.  The  ptaaemaihy 
continence  of  Chicago,  in  failing  to  foist  a  representative  journalistic  bantling  into  *'  that  favge 
and  struggling  family  called  the  American  cycling  press,"  is  probably  due  to  the  early  1 
of  a  local  weekly,  the  Mirror  0/ A  merican  S/oris,  as  "  official  oigan  of  the  Illinois  Divi 
In  June,  '86,  this  paper  succumbed  to  the  weight  of  its  name,  and,  though  briefly  revived  in 
July,  as  the  "  Pastime  GttMette,  a  mirror  of  American  sports,'*  its  suspension  sufficed  to  cause  a 
transfer  of  the ' '  League  organsliip  "  to  its  hated  rival ,  the  Sporting  6^  Tkeairical  JaunmL  The 
editor  of  this,  Sam  Miles,  is  an  enthusiastic  wheelman,  and  he  celebrated  the  happy  event  by 
adding  **  and  Western  Cycler  "to  the  heading  of  his  paper,  though  the  full  title  is  not  repealed 
on  the  hinnitig  headlines.  Of  the  12  pp.  (13  by  18  in.),  about  si  pp.  are  given  to  cydiog,  in  the 
specimen  copy  from  which  I  write  this  notice.  I  have  never  seen  a  speciroen  of  the  St.  Loms 
weekly;  the  Spectator ^  which  is  said  to  give  much  space  to  wheeling.  *'  Tabla  Talk^'M.  Westers 
weekly  society  and  family  journal,  and  official  organ  for  the  Iowa  Division,  L.  A.  W.,"  adscr- 
tises  itself  thus,  for  |i.se,  at  Ottumwa ;  and  I  have  previously  alluded  to  the  Imgieside^  Sao 
Francisco,  as  "  organ  of  the  California  Division."  The  Sportsman,  of  Pittsboig,  the  Spmtmg 
Lift,  of  Philadelphia,  the  half  dozen  sporting  weeklies  of  New  York,  and  the  similar  prints  is 
several  smaller  dties,  have  regular  departments  devoted  to  cyde  radng ;  and  a  "  cydingoolana  " 
is  also  a  fixture  in  many  of  the  special  Sunday  papers,  aiMl  in  several  of  the  promiiient  dailies  at 
stated  intervals.  A  long  "  exchange  list  of  journals,  thus  giving  prominence  to  the  whed  "  «as 
kept  standing  through  many  issues  of  the  Western  ^Cyclist,  and  it  was  about  the  only  original 
feature  in  that  defunct  handbill  which  I  can  record  to  its  credit.  The  great  amount  of  apaos 
accorded  by  the  outside  press  to  the  pastime  seems  to  ensure  that  the  literary  qnaltiy  of  its  ap^ 
dal  trade^ircttlars  should  always  be  weak  and  diluted.  There  can  never  again,  it  seems  to  bm, 
be  any  such  concentration  of  effort  and  enthusiasm  as  would  suffice  to  produce  so  good  a  joomal 
as  the  BL  World  of  '7^40  or  the  Wheelman  of  '83-83. 

American  Cvcunc  Books  and  Pamphlsts. 
Among  books  which  are  no  longer  in  the  market,  the  most  important  b  the  "American  Bicy> 
der :  a  manna!  for  the  observer,  the  learner  and  the  expert,"  some  account  of  which  has  been 
given  on  p.  504,  by  its  author,  C.  E.  Pratt  (b.  1845).  The  zst  cd.  (Mar.,  '79 ;  aooe  copies  at 
1 1 ;  60,000  words)  had  an  pp.  and  t9  wood-cuts,  together  whh  a  bdioCype  of  the  ColmnbiB  Ml 
The  latter,  and  the  wood-«nt  frontispiece,  were  omitted  from  the  ad  ed.  (J"B«»  *^\  Von  copies 
at  50  c.  1,  whose  appendix  of  new  matter  raised  the  total  pages  to  a6i,  but  whidi  wasoihcrw 
wise  klentical  with  the  firat.  The  sd  ed.  was  "  printed  for  the  author  by  Rockwdl  &  ChttrdDH," 
whereas  the  first  bore  the  imprint  of  the  Riverside  Press,  though  the  dectrotypea  were  osade  by 
C.  J.  Peters  ft  Son.  A  little  picture  on  p.  is6  gives  a  fairiy  good  idea  of  the  amhor's  appeaib 
ance  on  the  road.  His  money-profit  on  the  5000  books  was  lem  than  ^aoo,  bol  tbe  drcolatiaa 
of  so  great  a  number  rewarded  him  at  least  with  the  consdouaaess  of  exerddng  a  definite  in- 
fluence ttpnn  the  "  tone  "  of  wheeling.  It  was  a  very  fortunate  thing  for  the  d^iwty  and  ra> 
spectabiltty  of  the  pastime  in  this  country  that  a  man  of  some  tittle  sdiohirshtp  ahould  thus  si 
the  outset  compile  a  manual  with  such  care  and  good  judgment  ts  to  rtadar  it  an  authorily,  aad 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL. 


^3 


Clierebsr  pKrcot  the  production  of  tnaby  and  slip-shod  bo<As  by  incompetent  hands.  The  dis- 
trilMitioii  of  several  hmdred  copies  among  the  newapaptf  offices  and  libraries,  by  the  Pope  Mfg. 
Co.,  made  it  possible  for  every  writer  on  the  press  to  have  a  well-hidexed  standard  of  reference 
vithin  easy  reach ;  and  this  fact  helped  greatly  in  fixing  "  bicycler  "  as  best  American  usage, 
in  preference  to  such  forms  as  "  cyclist "  and  "  wheelist,"  which  the  slang-loving  EngHshmen 
have  given  currency  to,  and  have  even  pnsuaded  some  careless  "  dictionary-revisers  "  ,or,  as 
they  wcMild  say,  "  revisists  ")  in  this  country  to  bolster  up  by  their  "  authority.*'  In  America, 
every  person  who  looks  upon  cycling  as  trivial,  ridicnloos  or  contemptible  is  sure  to  stigmatize 
the  practicer  of  it  as  a  "  cyclist "  ;  and  every  jockey,  gambler  and  **  sporting  man  "  is  sure  to 
show  a  like  verbal  preference,— 4or  the  same  indefinable  reason  which  makes  him  take  pleasure 
in  calling  a  walker  a  "  walkist,"  a  skater  a  "  skatist,"  a  swimmer  a  "  swimmist,**  and  so  on. 
Of  course,  there  are  some  of  oar  educated  writers  who  join  forces  with  the  mob  of  ill-trained 
and  ignorant  ones,  m  giving  vogue  to  the  hissing  "  ist  "  termination,  instead  of  the  more  en- 
phonious  and  dignified  "  er,"— and  perhaps  the  tendency  to  '*  imitate  England,  right  or  wrong,** 
may  at  last  result  in  a  senai-suppression  of  the  better  form.  This,  on  the  other  hand,  is  gaining 
some  little  currency  in  England,  by  the  usage  of  writers  whose  ears  are  fine  rather  than  long  ; 
and  oar  American  "  wheehnan  **  has  driven  "  wheelist  '*  almost  entirely  from  that  island,  though 
"  wheeler  "  is  sometimes  used  as  an  alternative  form.  Since  the  vehide  ridden  may  be  called 
a  "  two-wheeler'*  or  "  three-wheeler,**  however,  some  confusion  might  result  from  calling  its 
rider  by  the  saune  word,  which  is  otherwise  a  good  one.  "  The  American  Bicycler,*'  with  many 
other  daims  to  a  pfawe  in  every  reference-library,  is  also  worthy  of  honor  as  our  earliest  road- 
book. Its  chapter  on  "  roads  **  detailed  39  routes  in  the  region  of  Boston,  and  the  ad  cd.  ap- 
pendix tabulated  46  others  in  remoter  regions.  Several  of  these  were  from  reports  which  I  my- 
self prepared  for  the  Bi.  IVptU^  in  response  to  the  author's  general  request  to  all  record-keeping 
tovirists ;  and  his  book  may  hence  be  considered,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  earliest  inspiring  cause 
of  my  own.  The  serious  and  methodical  method  of  ita  composition,  as  compared  with  the  scrappy 
and  sensational  style  of  J.  T.  Goddard's  "  The  Velocipede  "  (published  just  a  decade  earlier, 
and  described  by  me  on  p.  40s)  serves  as  a  very  significant  illustration  of  the  difference  be- 
tween the  nighty  "  velodpedist "  of  the  '69  furor  and  the  sober-minded  bicycler  of  to-day. 

"  Over  the  Handles,  and  other  cyding  sketches :  the  wheelman's  annual  for  '81  *'  (190  pp. 
of  60,000  words),  and  "  Whirling  Wheels  :  the  wheelman's  annual  for  *8a  "  (135  pp.  of  40,000 
words)  were  published  by  J.  P.  Burbank,  at  Salem,  Mass.,  for  $1  each  in  cloth  binding  or  50  c. 
in  paper.  Both  had  a  neat  typography,  whh  advertisements  at  the  end, — the  second  issue  using 
4  hurger  page  and  type.  The  "  cycling  romance  *'  which  gave  a  title  to  this  '8a  book  was  by 
"  Ixion  "  (24  pp.), "  President  Bates  "  contributed  a  sketch  which  was  widely  copied  (see  p.  506). 
"  Telzah  **  described  the  "  water  bicycle,"  several  other  noted  riders  supplied  "  spedfications  for 
an  ideal  wheel,**  and  I  think  the  rest  of  the  matter  was  mostly  original.  The  editor  supplied  a 
review  of  the  "  mechanical  and  literary  novelties  of  the  year,"— and  asked  allowance  for  errors, 
"  on  account  of  having  done  the  work  of  compilation  entirely  at  night,  amid  the  distractions  and 
confusion  of  the  busiest  business  months."  His  preface  of  '81  also  expressed  regret  that  the 
limited  time  which  could  be  given  to  the  book  forced  him  to  form  it  mostly  from  reprint  matter, 
taken  in  great  part  from  the  English  press.  There  were  19  pieces  of  prose  and  1 5  of  verse,  includ- 
ing the  "  Bicyde  Boom  "  {Pwek^  Mar,  r7,  *8o,  p.  19),  whose  Tennysonian  swing  seems  to  me  to 
show  the  spirit  of  cycling  better  than  any  other  metrical  attempt  which  has  come  to  my  notice. 
Mr.  Burbank*s  review  mentioned,  as  the  most  notable  cyding  book  issued  in  *8f ,  "A  Bicyde  Tour 
in  England  and  Wales,  made  hi  *79  by  the  president,  A.  D.  Chandler,  and  captain,  J.  C. 
Sharp,  jr.,  of  the  Suffolk  B.  C.  of  Boston ;  with  an  appendix,  giving  information  on  th^  use  of 
the  hi.,  both  in  Eng.  and  the  U.  S. ;  also  4  maps  and  17  illustrations  (Boston :  A.  Williams  & 
Co.)-'*  Most  of  the  material  of  the  book,  if  not  all  of  it,  seems  to  have  been  contained  in  fom- 
short  pieces  which  Mr.  C.  printed  in  the  Bi.  World  Qan.  14,  21,  Feb.  4,  18,  '81),  covering 
sbont  10  pp.  of  that  paper, — the  editor  of  which,  in  a  eulogistic  mention  of  the  volume  (June  10^ 
p.  51),  alluded  to  its  "  brevity  as  its  gravest  fault  **  and  to  its  "  superb  illustrations  as  pladng  it 
in  the  front  rank  of  all  books  of  foreign  travel."  These  albertype  pictsres  accoont,  I  suppose, 
i3 


674  ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

for  its  high  price  and  restricted  sale.  The  Wluelman  of  Oct.,  '83»  advertised  it  at  ^3,  bat 
dropped  the  rate  to  $3  in  Jan.  As  regards  the  earliest  book  of  American  cycling  vene,  "  Lyia 
Bicydica,"  by  J.  G.  Dalton  (b.  xSaS),  the  author's  own  descriptive  advertisement  may  be  fooad 
on  p.  505,  in  connection  with  his  wheeling  biography,  but  his  address  has  been  changed,  snoe 
that  page  was  printed,  to  36  Sl  James  av.,  the  new  home  of  the  Boston  B.  C.  Postal  notes 
for  75  &  should  be  sent  to  him  there  by  those  who  wbh  the  revised  ed.  of  'Ss  (*'  Sixty  Poets,** 
pp.  160),  though  he  can  also  supply  it  in  flexible  binding  for  50  c,  and  the  original  ed.  ol  ^ 
("  Forty  Poeu,"  pp.  110)  for  30  c  £.  C  Hodges  &  Co.  are  the  nominal  publishers.  The 
book  is  electrotyped  and  printed  in  attractive  shape  by  Rand,  Avery  &  Co.,  and  is  well  wosth 
its  price  to  any  wheeUnan  who  has  a  taste  for  literary  curiosities.  The  worst  thing  about  it  is  a 
prefatory  remark  that  "  the  incorrect  termination,  as  in  cyckr,  was  too  common  to  rectify  in  aB 
the  plates,  but  it  does  not  occur  in  the  later  pieces ;  "  for  this  shovrs  that,  thoi^h  the  author 
originally  had  a  true  ear  for  euphony,  he  lacked  the  courage  to  defend  it  in  his  2d  ed., — simply 
because  there  had  meanwhile  appeared  a  "  revised  dictionary,"  into  which  some  case-hardened 
hack,  who  knew  nothing  about  the  prevalent  American  usage,  had  carelessly  intcrpobited  **cy> 
<Mst  "  as  the  correct  kibosh.  More  ornate  than  the  unique  collection  of  this  elderly  Bostm 
bard,  whom  the  shadow  of  a  dictionary  "  revisist "  so  thoroughly  scared,  was  the  "  elegant 
quarto  volume,  bound  in  blue  silk  doth,  with  side-stamp  in  gilt  and  silver  "  which  a  ^nightly 
young  New  Yorker  issued  in  July,  '84,  with  the  title,  "  Wheel  Songs ;  poems  of  bicycling." 
The  80  pp.  carried  nearly  50  engravings,  many  of  which  had  appeared  in  Outing  with  the  ac^ 
companying  text,  and  the  advertisements  described  this  as  "  sentimental  and  humorous."  The 
price  was  ^i.7Si  iuid  the  publishers  were  White,  Stqjces  &  Allen,  of  1S2  Fifth  avenue,  who,  in 
offering  me  the  electrotypes  (Dec  11,  '85),  at  a  very  k>w  rate,  said  the  volume  was  then  entizely 
out  of  print.  I  see,  however,  that  copies  are  still  advertised  for  sale  at  the  o£Bce  ol  Owtmg, 
The  author  was  S.  Conant  Foster  (d.  Mar.  8,  '85, «.  31),  known  among  his  friends  as  the  "  poet 
wheelman,"  who  learned  to  ride  the  bicyde  in  '79,  was  manager  of  the  original  wheel  agency  at 
"  No.  791  "  during  the  Wright  ownership,  and  was  then,  for  the  four  years  entUng  with  his 
death,  in  the  employ  of  the  firm  who  make  the  Otis  elevators.  Another  notably  elegant  volume, 
which,  as  a  specimen  of  the  typographic  art,  stands  far  superior  to  anything  yet  projected  in  the 
shape  of  cycling  literature  in  any  part  of  the  world,  is  "  Rhymes  of  the  Road  and  River,  by 
Chris.  Wheeler  "(pp.  154,  ^a),  printed  and  published  at  Philadelphia,  in  Nov.,  '85,  by  E. 
Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,  printers  of  the  L.  A.  W.  BulUtin,  The  pages  are  gilt-edged,  7  by  Si  in. 
in  size,  and  of  a  luxurious  sort  of  paper,  almost  as  thick  as  cardboard.  There  are  no  disfigmiog 
advertisements,  and  no  illustrations,  but  there  is  an  ornamental  side-stamp,  of  gold  and  blad, 
upon  the  cover,  which  is  of  olive-green  muslin  and  is  beveled,  and  it  exhibits  the  foilowins  sa]>> 
title:  "  Bent  Oars  and  Broken  Spokes,  bent  and  broken  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic"  The 
title-page  also  shows  that  the  **  rhymes  "  are  dassed  under  these  four  divisions  :  "  Lays  of  Lan- 
caster Pike ;  Songs  of  the  Schuylkill  River ;  Bent  Oars  and  Broken  Spokes ;  Cyding  Bab 
Ballads."  The  preface,  dated  Sept  30,  holds  the  author's  friends  responsible  for  the  prodoctioo 
of  the  book ;  and  the  editors  of  the  cyding  press,  to  which  many  of  the  pieces  had  been  contrib- 
uted, gave  it  a  friendly  welcome.  The  author's  real  name  b  Arthur  Henry  Mac  Owen  (b.  1861), 
whose  first  five  years  were  spent  in  Boston,  and  who  has  been  a  Philadelphian  only  since  'St, 
the  intermediate  or  educational  period  being  accredited  to  Dublin ;  for  his  parentt  are  of  Irish- 
Scotch  ancestry.  He  has  written  many  pieces  in  advocacy  of  the  pleasures  of  touring  (using 
the  signature  "  Ninon  Neckar  •'  as  well  as  "  Chris.  Wheeler  "),  has  printed  "  Steel  Wings,  a 
romance  of  the  road,  in  ten  chapters."  in  the  PhUa.  Cyc.  Record,  and  he  supplies  a  page  of 
^'jottings  "  for  each  monthly  Wheelmen's  GazeiU,  The  Utter  journal  also  printed  in  advance 
<May,  '85)  a  spedmen  chapter  of  "  In  and  Around  Cape  Ann :  a  hand-book  of  Gloucester, 
Mass.,  and  its  immediate  vicinity,  for  the  wheelman  tourist  and  the  summer  visitor,  with  ekvcn 
lUostrations,  printed  at  the  Cafe  Ann  Advertiser  office."  The  volume  contains  loopp.  oi 
about  30,000  words,  is  well  printed  and  neatly  bound  in  doth,  and  is  mailed  for  postal-noie  ol 
75  c  by  the  author  and  publisher,  John  S.  Webber,  jr.  (b.  Feb.  i,  '58),  consul  of  ihe  C  T.  C.  and 
for  the  past  deven  years  book-keeper  and  derk  of  the  Cape  Ann  Savings  Bank,  51  Main  s:.. 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  675 

GXoiioester.  A  pioneer  rider  of  ^^%  he  bad  printed  many  newspaper  aketches  about  wheeling 
before  he  began  writing  this  guide-book  in  the  winter  of  '83-4.  Resuming  work  upon  it  in  the 
winter  of  '84^,  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. 
is  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  100  were  given 
a^way  to  newspaper  editors  and  others ;  and  a  large  share  of  the  edition  was  sold  to  summer 
viaiton  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  circularB ;  and  my  list  of  "other  cycling  pub< 
Hcations**  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  fitMn  Hartfoid  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 
npon  the  reported  roads,  which  are  in  fact  too  sandy  for  the  excursions  which  the  author's  imagi> 
nation  has  made  over  them.''  The  BL  Worid  said  (July  4,  p.  152)  :  "  The  book  is  very  breezy 
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  %x  in  doth  \  published  by  Ducker  &  Goodman,  at  Hartford,  Ct.),.has  pages  almost  ex- 
actly the  same  size  as  this  present  one  andis  also  manufactm-ed  by  the  Springfield  Printing  Co., 
from  the  same  Iwevier  type  used  in  my  earlier  chapters.  The  superintendent  of  that  company 
is  one  of  the  publishers,  and  the  other  is  Henry  (joodman  (b.  Nov.  37,  '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. 
£.  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 
**  £ngltsh  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)£.  P.  Bumham,  C.  E. 
Kluge,  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. 
£.  Hunter,  L.  D.  Munger  and  W.  A.  Rhodes ;  (4)  W.  A.  Rowe,  L.  B.  Hamilton,  W.  £.  Crist, 
G.  E.  Weber,  and  L.  A.  Miller.  Pictures  and  descriptions  of  19  machines  which  have  a  lead- 
ing i^aoe  in  the  American  market  occupy  as  many  pa^es,  and  are  followed  by  the  League  radng 
roles,  and  a  "dub  directory,"  which  names  313  dubs,  alphabetically  by  States  and  towns,  and 
the  secretary  of  each.  An  alphabetical  list  of  554  Americans  who  have  competed  in  races  gives 
the  resklence  of  each,  and  is  followed  by  brief  biographies  of  167  of  them,  and  of  28  others  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  30  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  is  19. ,  and  is  followed  by  "  Comparative  Cyding  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. 
S.,"  arranged  by  States  and  towns.  "  Touring  "  and  "  training  "  are  treated  of  very  briefly  by 
B.  B.  Ayers  and  C.  L.  Meyers ;  and  there  are  25  pp.  of  "  filling,"  called  "  opinions  of  leading 
men  "  (copied  from  the  Popes'  advertising  scrap-book),  which  exhibit  in  brief  paragraphs  the 
various  advantages  of  cyding.  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- 
rectioiis "  forms  the  appendix.    The  preface  says  that  less  than  half  the  600  radng  men  filled 


676  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

cwt  the  blanks  which  were  sent  to  them,  requesting  eutistical  details ;  and  that  only  60  daalen 
took  the  trouble  to  make  returns,— which  ensured  them  a  free  advertismeat,— thoc^  blaals 
were  sent  to  433.  The  book  weighs  7  os.  and  has  no  index  It  was  planned  chiefly  for  ok  sf 
the  radng  meets,  alongside  of  the  "  official  score-cards,"  ^ich  have  proved  quite  prafitaUe  M 
the  publisher ;  and  a  drculation  of  5000  was  guaranteed  to  the  advertisers,  who  were  duaged  ft% 
a  page.    The  trade  price  to  dealers  is  30  c.  a  copy. 

Another  notable  issue  of  May,  '86,  is  *'  My  Cycling  Log  Book:  a  memonmdnm  of  the 
number  of  miles  traveled  by  ,  with  such  notes  of  roads,  routes,  occasioas  and  f»wi4wm 

on  the  way  as  may  be  convenient  or  interesting  for  reference  by  the  owner.  Method  by  F.  W. 
Weston.  Boston:  C.  H.  Whiting,  publisher,  16S  Devonshire  St.;  price,  |i.as-"  This  is  bound 
in  flexible  leather*  weighs  8  oz.,  is  |  in.  thick  and  7^  by  5  in.  in  siae.  A  printed  beading  for 
"  daily  record  "  runs  lengthwise  across  the  edge  of  each  left-hand  page,  and  the  ruling  is  parailtl 
to  this,  giving  a  sheet  10  in.  long,  with  3a  lines  to  write  upon.  There  are  72  of  these  blank  sheets 
in  the  book,  and  at  its  end  is  a  page  ruled  to  contain  monthly  totals  andanoiher  to  contain  yearly 
totals,  "  by  the  echelon  method,'*  from  '77  to  '90  inclusive.  In  order  that  there  may  be  noBiis> 
take  about  using  these  blanks,  "  filled  "  specimens  are  printed  at  the  opening  of  the  bodk,  wiA 
a  few  words  of  directions,  preface  and  dedication.  "  The  exclusive  right  of  advertinng  in  the 
first  5000  copies  has  been  purchased  by  the  Overman  Wheel  Co.,  who  beg  to  call  yoar  attantifM 
to  the  last  page."  This  phrase  stands  opposite  the  title,  in  small  type;  and  the  last  pa«ie,  ia 
laiger  type,  exhibits  the  following :  "  The  Victor  bicycle  is  the  most  popular,  because  in  ran- 
ning  it  is  the  easiest,  in  construction  it  is  the  most  costly,  and  yet — in  price  it  is  the  1 
able.  Whether  the  machine  justifies  these  supeiiatives  we  leave  without  fear  to  oar  c 
Send  for  our  new  illustrated  catalogue  to  i8a  Columbus  av.,  Bostqp."  I  am  g^d  thus  to  give 
a  "  free  ad."  to  the  man  whose  appreciation  of  my  own  toilsome  effort  to  put  money  into  the 
pockets  of  every  bicycle  dealer  in  America  was  shown  by  his  offer  to  pay  a  monthly  subsidy  of 
I35  if  the  Wheelmen^ s  GaaeiU  would  simply  refrain  from  printing  any  allusioBs  to  ne  or  ths 
progress  of  my  book ;  and  as  regards  Mr.  Weston's  own  effort  to  render  the  keeping  of  whed 
leoords  more  easy  and  attractive,  I  only  wish  it  was  in  my  power  to  compel  every  rider  in  the 
country  to  buy  a  copy  of  the  "  log,"  iwst  it  at  the  dose  of  every  ride,  and  mail  to  me  a  copy  of 
its  monthly  table  at  the  close  of  every  year  I  Supplementary  to  the  foregoing — or,  if  need  be,  a 
substitute  for  it — is  "  Batchelder's  Record  Book,"  for  immediate  use  upon  die  road.  It  was  is- 
sued in  Mar.,  '84,  at  Lancaster,  N.  H.,  by  C.  D.  Batchelder  (b.  Nov.  as,  '57),  who  began  ridiag 
Aug.  17,  '8a,  as  the  pioneer  tourist  of  the  White  Mtn.  region,  and  whose  mileage  was  4oooat  the 
dose  of  '85.  It  weighs  3  oz.  and  has  48  leaves,  of  which  every  second  one  is  ruled  on  the  left 
to  contain  a  tabulated  memorandum ;  and  special  dn^ctions  for  using  this,  with  convenient  ah* 
breviations  for  roads  and  weather,  are  printed  at  the  outset.  Each  leaf  is  the  size  of  a  postal- 
card,  and  such  cards  with  the  tabular  ruling  printed  upon  them  are  furnished  by  the  pnblisber 
for  3  c.  each.  In  recommending  this  excellent  little  pocket  book  to  the  attention  of  every  rider, 
I  urge  in  particular  that  k>ng-distance  tourists,  who  wish  to  put  their  friends  (or,  let  me  say,  cer- 
tain cycKng  editors)  in  prompt  possession  of  an  authenticated  record  of  the  country  gone  over, 
should  boy  a  lot  of  these  cards  to  use  with  the  book.  The  latter's  daily  table  could  be  copied 
upon  a  card,  each  night,  with  but  a  minimum  of  trouble,  and  sent  off  by  the  first  maD.  The 
book  is  bound  with  a  lap  to  protect  the  edges,  and  ha  price  is  30  c.  in  cloth ;  50  c  in  roan  teatlwr 
(with  pocket  and  pendl  loop),— a  discount  of  lo  p.  c  being  given  on  orders  for  6  or  moie.  The 
publisher  says  :  "A  page,  when  properly  filled,  gives  the  nanjes  of  all  places  visited ;  cydon. 
at  starting  and  stopping ;  distance  between  the  places ;  time  of  starting  and  stopping ;  time  of 
wheeling  from  one  place  to  any  other ;  length  of  rests  and  stops  by  the  way ;  time  spent  at  eadi 
recording  place ;  condition  of  roads  and  weather  all  along  the  route,  etc  At  a  glance  are  sbo«a 
total  distance,  total  time,  total  rests,  and  net  riding  time.  Blank  pages  interieaved  give  asople 
room  for  remarks.  One  book  is  large  enough  to  record  a  month's  touring,  and  will  serve  a  sea> 
son  for  most  wheelmen."  Somewhat  cheaper  than  this,  and  having  the  advantage  of  offidal 
sanction,  is  H.  S.  Wood's  "  Blank  Road-Book,  as  adopted  by  Penn.  and  N.  J. ;  designed  fsr 
the  combined  uses  of  correspondence  and  publication,"  whidi  coiitaina  us  Uanks  of  the  sane 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  677 

•iae  as  his  loadpbook,  and  printed  directions  for  filling  them,  illustrated  by  two  specimen  pages 
from  the  book.  The  BuiUtm  (July  9,  '86,  p.  27)  says  that  copies  will  be  mailed  for  28  c.  by  T. 
M.  Wright,  Box  1619,  Philadelphia,  and  "  recommends  all  tourists  to  use  this  form  of  road- 
reporting,  which  is  now  adopted  by  most  of  the  leading  Divisions."  The  book  is  bound  in  flex- 
ible cloth,  and  I  presume  the  inner  edges  of  the  blanks  are  perforated,  for  easy  removal.  The 
John  Wilkinson  Co.,  of  Chicago,  advertised  in  the  BL  World  of  May  30,  *&4,  "  Wheelman's 
Record  Book  (copyrighted),  5a  pp.,  leather  bound,  50  c," — the  size  of  the  paper  being  z\  by  6 
in.,  or  a  trifle  narrower  and  longer  than  Batchelder's,  and  not  quite  as  long  as  Wood's.  "  The 
Wheelman's  Log  Book  for  '81  "  (N.  Y.:  F.  Jenkins,  322  W.  S9th  St.,  32  pp.,  25  c.),  if  I  rightly 
remember,  had  a  page  fully  as  large  as  Weston's  log,  and  wou}4  wrve  for  years  later  than  '81. 
I  presume  this  may  still  be  procurable,  as  well  as  the  Chicago  issue, — though  the  demand  for 
such  things  is,  unfoitunately,  too  small  to  justify  much  advertising.  "  A  bicycler's  score-book  " 
^ras  announced  for  xxMsible  publication  in  Mar.,  '8x,  by  J.  P.  Burbank,  who  asked,  in  the  first 
isaoe  of  his  "  annual,"  that  riders  should  send  in  suggestions  and  advice  as  to  its  make  up, — 
which  no  one  seems  to  have  done,  for  no  book  was  issued. 

Among  oflkial  road-books,  the  earliest  was  that  of  the  Canadian  Wheelmiui's  Association 
(Apr.,  '84 ;  pp.  128;  940  copies,  50  c),  which  I  have  fully  described  on  p.  330.  A  new  ed.,  of 
a  different  style  and  design  and  almost  entirely  rewritten,  is  to  be  pub.  (see  p.  636)  in  spring  of 
'87,  at  Simcoe,  Ont.,  by  the  C.  W.  A.  secretary,  H.  B.  Donly  (b.  Jan.  4,  '61).  The  "  first  an- 
nual "  issue  of  the  Massachusetts  Division  of  the  League  (July,  '84;  36  pp.;  25c.),  de- 
scribed on  p.  Ill,  has  not  yet  had  a  successor;  though  a  vote  was  passed  Feb.  6,  '86,  authoris- 
ing the  chief  consul  to  "  issue  a  very  small  book  containing  a  list  of  ofiicers  and  local  consuls,  if 
it  can  be  done  at  an  expense. not  to  exceed  $25."  The  ist  ed.  (May,  '85  ;  160  pp. ;  ^i)  of  the 
"  Penn.  &  N.  J.  Road-Book,  L.  A.  W.,"  is  described  on  p.  177,  and  the  3d  ed.  (Apr.,  '86 ;  ^e> 
vised  and  enlarged  to  include  the  Maryland  Division),  on  p.  589.  "  Bull  &  Bowen's  Road- 
Book  of  Western  New  York  "  G^ne,  '85),  the  little  pamphlet  described  on  p.  221,  is  now  out  of 
print  and  will  not  be  reissued.  I  should  have  credited  its  compilation  to  W.  S.  Bull,  who  will 
recast  its  tables  for  the  coming  book  of  the  New  York  Division.  The  second  "  Hand  Book  of 
the  Ohio  Division  "  (May,  '86;  pp.  136;  T.  J.  Kirkpatrick,  Springfield)  is  sold  to  League  mem- 
bers only  for  ^i ,  and  has  a  page  of  the  League's  standard  size  (6|  by  i\  in.),  like  the  L.  I. 
and  Penn.  books,  but  is  upright  instead  of  oblong,  as  they  are. 

The  first  Ohio  book  (Mar.,  '85 ;  pp.  62)  was  a  vest-pocket  affair,  5  by  3  in.,  doth-bound,  con- 
taining League  and  Division  constitution  and  officers,  and  racing  rules  and  records,  but  nothing 
about  the  roads.  Of  the  same  scope,  shape  and  appearance,  but  issued  in  Dec,  '85,  and  having 
83  pp.,  is  the  "  Hand  Book  of  the  Missouri  Division  "  (St.  Louis  :  E.  M.  Senseney,  chief  con- 
sul). The  League's  early  and  unnamed  handbook  (Sept.,  '81;  pp.  104;  paper  covers,  50  c.), 
described  on  p.  62s,  now  has  a  certain  historic  value ;  and  its  *'  Official  Programme  of  the 
Seventh  Annual  Meet "  (May,  '86)  was  an  illustrated  pamphlet  of  32  pp.,  with  an  ornate  cover 
ol  unique  design.  The  2d  ed.  of  A.  L.  Atkins's  "  Road  Book  of  Boston  and  Vicinity  "  (May 
ao,  '86 ;  mailed  for  15  c.  by  the  author  at  i*^  West  Walnut  Park)  is  better  printed  than  the  rst 
ed.,  described  on  p.  iii,  and  exhibits  55  routes  instead  of  43.  It  Mreighs  i)  oz.,  and 
advertisements  cover  26  of  its  64  pp.  What  was  called  the  ad  ed.  of  the  "Wheelman's 
Hand-Book  of  Essex  County  "  (described  on  p.  in)  differed  from  the  zst  ed.  only  in  having  10 
pp.  of  additional  advertisements  interleaved,  on  colored  paper,  and  2  pp.  of  "  Addenda  " ;  but 
the  3d  ed.  (Aug.  i,  '86 ;  pp.  74;  mailed  for  ao  c  by  the  author,  George  Chinn,  Beveriy,  Mass.) 
ha»  been  recast  and  to  a  great  extent  rewritten,— its  final  feature  being  an  abstract  of  these  pres- 
ent statistics  of  mine  about  American  wheel  literature.  Contributions  to  the  Mich,  road-book, 
which  it  is  hoped  may  be  issued  early  in  '87,  should  be  sent  to  the  chief  consul,  J.  H.  Johnson, 
107  Spruce  St.,  Detroit.  It  will  contain  no  advertisements;  will  be  furnished  free  to  Division 
membeis,  and  its  price  to  others  will  not  exceed  50  c.  The  Conn,  road-book  is  in  preparation  by 
C.  G.  Huntington,  chief  consul,  at  Conn.  River  Bank,  Hartford,  for  issue  in  April,  '87,  to 
League  members  only.  All  matter  received  by  him  up  to  Dec.  will  be  tabulated  after  the  Penn. 
book  pattern.    A.  B.  Bariumm,  duurman  of  the  touring  committee  of  the  N.  Y.  State  Division, 


678  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

writes  a  similar  report  to  me  (Aug.  5)  as  to  the  prospects  of  the  N.  Y.  road-book  :  "  Jan.,  *87. 
is  the  probable  date  of  publication.  Copies  will  be  given  to  DirisicMi  members  and  sold  to  other 
League  members  at  $1.  Penn.  tabular  model  is  followed,  but  there  will  be  letterpress  also  and 
maps.  No  adv's  admitted.  Contributions  should'be  sent  to  me  at  608  Fourth  av.,  BrooklTn, 
N.  Y.  My  L.  I.  book  has  not  yet  paid  cost  of  printing,  as  200  copies  remain  unsold.  I  faanSy 
expect  to  issue  a  ad  ed.,  for  all  essential  L.  I.  facts  will  appear  in  N.  Y.  book." 

Many  paragraphs  were  current,  during  the  first  half  of  '85,  to  the  effect  that  the  Kentoa 
Wheel  Qub,  of  Covington,  ^'oulct  soon  publish  a  book  of  300  pp.,  describing  all  the  roads  of 
Kentucky  and  those  of  Ohio,  near  Cincinnati.  The  compiler  was  P.  N.  Meyers  (b.  Sept.  16, 
'66),  who  thus  reported  to  me  Jan«  36,  '86  :  **  The  boys  did  not  take  up  the  scheme  with  nmch 
alacrity,  and  it  has  fallen  through  for  want  of  support.  The  ms.  exhibits  many  fine  routes  in  O. 
and  Ky.,  and  I  will  present  it  to  you,  if  you  can  use  any  of  it  in  your  book."  "  The  A  B  C  of 
Bicj'cHng  :  an  instruction-book  for  the  tyro  "  (36  pp.  of  vest-pocket  size,  loc.),  was  written  and 
published  by  H.  B.  Hart,  811  Arch  st.,  Phila.,  and  commended  thus  by  Bi-WvridQva^  13,  '80, 
p.  364) :  *'  Its  half-dozen  illustrations  are  carefully  drawn  and  aid  well  the  text,  which  sets 
forth,  unpretentiously,  but  with  practical  wisdom  and  ludd  suggestion,  just  what  the  indpaeat 
learner  ne^s  to  know.'*  R.  Clarke  &  Co.,  of  Cincinnati,  published  in  '84,  or  earlier,  "Ama- 
teur Bicycle  Repairing;  or,  every  rider  his  own  repairer"  (tSmo,  flexible  leather,  25  c),  by 
Col.  Horace  Park,  who  is  a  praaical  mechanic  and  gunsmith  and  an  old  mountaineer,  being 
also  author  of  the  "  Sportsman's  Hand-Book  "  (t6mo,  ^i),  and  who  says  that  "  a  careful  study 
of  this  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  life  of  his  bicyde."  In  a  list  of  publica- 
tions recommended  by  C.  E.  Pratt,  in  Apr.,  '84,  I  find  the  following :  "  Suggestions  for  Choice, 
Care  and  Repair  of  Bicycles  and  Tricycles;  by  an  Old  Wheelman  (3d  ed.,  36  pp.,  10 c)  " ;  but 
I  never  saw  a  copy,  and  do  not  know  when  or  where  it  was  printed.  A  little  jnmphlet  of  some- 
what similar  scope,  "Instructions  to  Wheelmen  "  (designed  to  warn  them  against  those  spedal 
sorts  of  negligence  and  risk  which  threaten  to  strain,  bend,  break  or  otherwise  injure  their  ma- 
chines), is  in  preparation  for  the  spring  of  '87,  by  C.  M.  Richards  (b.  Feb.  10,  *6o),  who  his 
been  for  the  last  three  years  connected  with  the  Popes'  New  York  office,  at  13  Warren  st.  Many 
of  his  leisure  hours  during  '85  were  devoted  to  compiling  road-reports  (solidted  from  correspoDd- 
ents  in  the  South  and  West,  at  the  request  of  the  editor  of  Outing),  for  monthly  publication 
during  '86  in  that  magazine.  Its  sale  to  new  owners,  who  give  no  space  to  cyding  matters,  took 
place  just  about  at  the  time  when  his  bulky  manuscript  was  ready  for  delivery ;  and  he  teOs  me 
it  was  lost  in  the  transfer.  F.  Alcott  Pratt,  sec.  of  the  Mass.  B.  C,  informs  me  of  his  inten- 
tion to  compile  a  list  of  roads  explored  by  members  of  the  dub  in  Mass.  and  beyond,  as  a  sort 
of  club  guide,  as  soon  as  he  may  have  leisure.  The  imprint  of  W.  L.  Mershon  &  Co.,  Rahway, 
N.  J.,  is  the  only  local  hint  of  its  origin  given  on  a  pamphlet  (16  pp.,  Feb.,  '86)  entitled,  "  The 
Advantages  of  Cyding,  with  practical  suggestions  on  learning  and  riding;  by  5678."  I  sappcas 
it  is  no  secret  that  the  numeral  stands  for  L.  H.  Porter,  president  of  the  Orange  Wandereis* 
who  has  frequently  signed  it  to  pieces  in  the  Bi,  World  and  Cycle,  The  pamphlet  refrains  from 
naming  any  particular  machine,  and  it  seems  to  have  been  issued  for  distribution  among  h» 
friends,  and  "  for  the  good  of  the  cause." 

"What  and  Why:  some  common  questions  answered"  (73  pp.,  6  by  4  in.),  compiled  and 
copyrighted  by  Chas.  E.  Pratt,  printed  by  Rockwell  &  Churchill  and  drculated  by  the  P<^ 
Mfg.  Co.,  is  designed  to  recommend  the  lalter's  wares,  but  it  does  this  unobtrusively,  and  it  is 
packed  full  of  facts  and  opinions  well  calculated  to  interest  the  public  in  cyding.  Issued  in  Apr., 
'84,  its  3d  ed.  of  a  year  later  was  called  "  the  ioo,ocx>th  " ;  and  its  final  paragraph  announced  the 
free  distribution,  by  the  same  publishers,  of  a  48  p.  8vo,  named  as  follows  :  '*  Letters  of  Intnest 
to  All  Wheelmen,  Present  and  Prospective;  containing  much  experience  gathered  from  many 
points."  This  is  a  well-printed  collection  of  testimonials  in  favor  of  the  Columbia  machines,  and 
is  not  disfigured  by  advertisements.  The  same  can  be  said  of  "  What  and  Why,"  and  of  the 
"  no-name  scrap-book  "  (33  pp.,  8vo,  May,  '86),  also  given  away  by  the  Popes,  as  a  help  to 
their  business  and  to  that  of  every  other  dealer  in  cydes.    The  covers  of  this  represent  a  ] 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  679 

duction  in  nuDiature  of  the  title-pages  of  the  chief  American  datliee,  weeklies  and  magazines,  ar- 
tisdcally  grouped ;  and  a  double  column  of  extracts  (credited  to  these  and  other  sources,  and 
printed  in  various  sixes  and  styles  of  type)  cover  each  page  and  look  like  veritable  clippings 
pasted  on  sheets  ol  brown  paper.  Praise  of  the  Columbia  wheels  of  course  abounds  in  these 
*'  scraps,"  but  at  least  half  of  them  give  testimony  for  cycling  in  general ;  and  the  same  rule  was 
observed  in  putting  together  the  "  Columbia  Calendar  for  '86,"  on  whose  central  pad  (a^  by  4 
in.)  a  new  label  for  each  day  in  the  year  brings  to  light  a  bit  of  similar  testimony.  The  calendar- 
card  itself  (9  by  11  in.),  lithographed  in  gilt  and  colore,  is  formed  of  three  attractive  cycling  pict- 
ures, and  the  trade-mark  of  its  publishers  is  quiet  and  inoffensive.  A  very  small  fac-simile  of 
the  ornamental  title-page  to  their  ninth  annual  catalogue  (53  pp.,  8vo,  Rockwell  &  Churchill, 
print.)  was  indoded  in  the  group  on  the  scrap-book  cover,  just  mentioned,  and  was  the  only 
hint  there  given  of  its  origin.  The  catalogue  was  reproduced  bodily,  from  electrotypes,  in  the 
X.  A.  U\  BmOttin  (Feb.  26,  '86.  pp.  133-162),  and  the  latter's  printer  took  oath  that  more  than 
a  ton  of  paper  was  required  for  the  7500  copies.  The  Overman  Wheel  Co.,  in  similar  fashion, 
reprinted  their  fourth  annual  catailogue  (31  pp.,  8vo)  in  the  BL  WoridiyAxf  a6,  '86,  pp.  39-46). 
Stoddard,  Lovering  &  Co.  seem  to  have  set  the  example  in  this  sort  of  enterprise,  however, 
as  the  Spr.  Wk.  Ga».  61  Mar.,  '85,  gave  16  pp.  to  their  catalogue ;  and  in  Feb.,  '86,  they  made 
auiother  notable  contribution  to  the  trade's  literature,  calling  it  "  The  Agent's  Guide,  or  how  to 
make  money  by  selling  the  Rudge  bicycles  and  tricycles."  The  book  is  compiled  by  their  man- 
ager, H.  D.  Corey  (b.  Jan.  25,  '64),  from  material  collected  abroad  and  in  this  country,  and  from 
four  yean'  experience  in  the  business ;  and  it  includes  chapten  headed  as  follows  :  "  The 
present  want  in  the  cycling  trade ;  where  to  commence  and  how ;  about  hiring,— the  safest  plan ; 
second-band  machines  and  exchange ;  repairs— what  shall  we  do  with  them ;  advertising^when 
and  how  it  pays;  sundries,  and  how  to  select  them  ;  best  machines  for  sale  and  hire."  A  2d 
ed.  was  announced  in  July,  the  first  5000  copies  hsmng  been  exhausted. 

An  earlier  scheme  in  the  trade  was  that  of  the  Cunningham  Co.,  who  in  '83  issued  sheet 
music  ("  may  be  sung  in  public  without  payment  of  any  fee  "),  having  their  illustrated  advertise- 
ments upon  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  the  Garden  Wall  "  was  named  as  Ko.  s) 
bore  the  title,  "  All  00  account  of  Elisa ;  air  from  the  opera  of  Billee  Taylor ;  words  by '  Oulla '; 
dedicated  to  the  Boston  B.  C."  At  the  top  was  the  legend,  "  As  sung  by  (possibly)  Kol 
Kron,  and  otherlesser  luminaries,"— suggested,  I  suppose,  by  my  Pinaforic  chant  at  the  Nei^wrt 
dinner  of  the  League  in  '80.  In  July,  '80,  was  advertised  "  Mister  Tobias  Isaias  Ellas,  a  rollick- 
ing hi.  song;  words  by  S.  Conant  Foster ;  music  by  H.  N.  Sawyer;  price  40c";  and  the  woids 
were  reproduced  in  the  '84  vol.  of  "  Wheel  Songs."  The  BL  IVorld  (Sept.  4,  '80,  p.  370)  ac- 
knowledged the  receipt,  from  Lee  &  Walker,  of  Philadelphia,  of  "  Bicyde  Glide,  a  sheet  of  in- 
strumental music,  by  W.  Diederich,  prettily  Olustrated  with  a  scene  from  Fairmount  Park  "  ; 
and  the  BuOttm  (Mar.  5,  '86,  p.  183)  speaks  thus  of  the  illustrated  title-page  to  the  "  League 
Waltz,  dedicated  to  the  L.  A.  W.,  by  Geo.  Fred.  Brooks,"  of  the  Albany  B.  C.  :  "  Behind  the 
folds  of  the  L.  A.  W.  banner,  is  an  oval  scroll,  on  which  are  crowded  grotesque  masks,  mostly 
In  profile,  and  among  them  is  seen  the  full  face  of  the  worthy  composer,  *  No.  2908,'  in  riding 
cap  and  spectades."  I  have  never  seen  either  of  the  two  little  books  published  by  T.  S.  Miller, 
ex-Capt.  and  ex-Pres.  of  the  Chicago  B.  C,  "  Bicyde  Tactics"  (Apr.,  '84,  20  c,  a  manual  of 
drill  for  dubs),  and  "  Qub  Songs  "  (set  to  popular  airs,  25  c.) ;  but  I  am  told  that  more  than 
1000  of  the  former  have  been  sold,  and  that  the  latter's  ist  ed.  was  chiefly  composed  of  the 
Milwaukee  B.  C.  songs  which  A.  S.  Hibbard  printed  in  the  H^ktelmam  (Dec,  »8»,  pp.  187-90), 
and  that  to  them  were  added  (in  the  2d  ed.,  July,  '85)  the  St.  Louis  songs  printed  in  the  same 
magazine  (May,  '83,  pp.  140-43)  by  Arthur  Young,  and  a  few  Chicago  songs  by  Mr.  M.  "  Bugle 
Calls,  adapted  for  wheelmen  from  the  manual  of  the  U.  S.  Army  "  (5  c),  and  "  Bicycle  Primer, 
by  J.  R.  Heard,  illustrated  by  J.  C.  Qark  ;  a  humorous  alphabet  of  the  wheel "  (10  c.)  are  sold 
by  the  Bi.  World,  which  advertised  the  htter  as  eariy  as  '8a,  though  possibly  it  originated  ra 
England.  A  Newburyport  correspondent  of  that  paper,  W.  C.  Johnson,  recommends  (May  29, 
'SS*  P-  87)  *>  the  best  atuioaUe  tract  on  the  subject  of  rood-making  and  road-repairing,  the  dosing 


68o  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

pages  of  "  AgricttUure  of  Maanchiu^to,  ■eoond  aeries,  i869>7o/'  an  uinnal  report  offidally  pab- 
lished  by  the  State  at  Boston ;  and  the  implication  is  that  the  League  ooc^t  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  foiiol 
to  take  note  of  when  I  saw  the  mighty  tome  appealing  for  help  in  a  seoond-hand  bookslofc. 
The  author-builder  dismissed  cycling  quite  curtly  in  a  single  page,  as  a  subject  uoworthy  oi  so 
practical  a  personage  as  himself ;  and  he  evidently  considered  that  in  giving  pictures  of  vok  two 
representative  '*  toys,"  —  the  viloc4  of  *6S,  and  iu  prototype,  the  draisint^  of  a  haX-oeatvy 
earlier,— he  was  doing  the  last  aa  of  history  for  this  despised  comer  of  the  "  wheel  world.** 

«<  The  Road  and  the  Roadside,"  by  Burton  Willis  Potter  (b.  Fek  8,  '43),  a  lawjer  of  Wor- 
oester  (Boston  :  Little,  Brown  &  Co.;  120  pp.  of  30,000  Arords,  doth,  |i),  is  a  well-written  and 
neatly-printed  book  which  ought  to  be  owned  by  every  American  wheel  club,  and  read  by  every 
rider.  lt»  preface,  dated  May,  '86,  says :  "  The  laws  as  herein  sUted  are  the  preseot  ones  of 
Mass.,  relative  to  public  and  privau  ways,  and  therefore  may  not  all  be  applicable  ia  other 
Sutes ;  but  inasmuch  as  the  common  law  is  the  basis  of  the  road  law  in  all  the  Sutes,  it  will  be 
found  that  the  general  principles  herein  laid  down  are  as  applicable  in  one  State  as  in  another. 
These  chapters  were  written  and  read  as  a  lecture  before  the  Mass.  Board  of  Agriculture,  ia 
Dec,  '85,  at  Framingham,  and  have  since  been  pub.  in  the  '  Report  on  the  Agr.  of  Mass.  lor 
'85.'  They  are  now  given  to  the  public  with  the  hope  that  they  will  exert  some  little  inAucoce 
ia  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  opeiMtir  prag- 
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  book 
wholly  ignores  the  tiresome  legal  verbiage  of  the  statutes  and  judicial  rulings,  but  gives  the  girt 
of  them  in  simple  and  clear-cut  phrases  whicff  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  legisbuion,"  aiming  at 
interference  with  their  equal  rights  upon  the  road.  He  demonstrates  that  there,  as  elaewheit, 
the  one  essential  thing  for  them  to  remember  is  the  ancient  axiom  (which,  except  for  ray  dislike 
of  a  Latinized  title-page,  I  should  have  adopted  as  a  motto  for  this  book) :  **Sie  tiUine  h»  td 
fWH  alienum  ladas."  That  maxim  is  only  a  Roman  aropli6cation  of  the  sturdy  Saxoo  phrase, 
"  Myid  your  business  " ;  and  those  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  ao,  '43),  written  by  John  N. 
McClintock,  editor  of  the  MassackusetU  MagwtM,  covers  the  first  8  pp.  of  its  June,  »86,  issue 
(Boston,  25  c),  and  is  fronted  by  a  woodcut  portrait  and  fac-simile  autograph  (the  same  block 
being  used  also  in"  Wheelmen's  Reference  Book  "),  copied  from  the  lithographic  reproductioo  of 
a life-sise  crayon  sketch  Guly,  '85 ;  sheet  19 by  24  in. ;  as  c),  published  by  Root  &  Imker,  Nassau 
St.,  N.  Y.,  as  No.  6  in  their  series  called  "  Men  of  Mark ;  library  edition."  Another  oraament 
for  a  dub-iwm  wall  is  a  colored  lithograph  of  a  cyding  scene  (Jan.,  '85;  is  by  24  in. ;  15  cX 
which  has  no  other  suggestion  of  advertisement  about  it  than  the  word  "  Columbia,"  half-hiddea 
in  the  tessellated  pavement  of  the  foreground.  On  Feb.  14,  *85»  «*>»  owners  of  the  sane  tnde> 
mark  distributed  among  their  patrons  many  thousands  of  a  **  Cohimbia  valentine,"-^a  card  6  by 
8  in.,  lithographed  in  gUt  and  colors  with  scenes  of  "  rooming,  noon  and  night,"  and  baring 
appropriate  verses  upon  the  back.  As  an  advertising  novelty  in  '86,  they  issued  a  "  slate  "  (18 
by  24  in.)  <fti  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  preriooi 
issues  in  magnificence.  An  early  picture  of  Col.  Pope  can  be  found  in  Bt\  W^rU  (July  aa, 
'81,  p.  129),  accompanied  by  biographical  sketch.  Mention  may  be  made  of  the  "  dtf^ 
Almanac  "  as  a  repository  for  the  race-records  of  cyders  and  other  athletes,  which  is  ofiea 
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  the  goad- 
ance  of  disbursing  officers  of  the  Army  chaiged  with  payment  of  money  allowanoes  for  travel. 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  68 1 

English  Books,  Maps  and  Papbrs^ 

"The  Roads  of  EogUnd  &  Wales;  an  itinerary  for  qrdisto,  tourists  and  travellers:  co»> 
tasning  an  original  description  of  the  contour  and  surface,  with  mileage,  of  the  main  (direct  and 
principal  cross)  roads  of  England  and  Wales,  and  part  of  Scotland ;  particularly  adapted  for  the 
use  of  bicyclists  and  tricydists ;  together  with  topographical  notes  of  the  diief  cities  and  towns, 
and  references  to  the  antiquities,  natural  curiosities,  and  places  of  interest  along  the  various 
routes ;  also  a  list  of  hotels  and  inns  in  each  town,  suitable  for  cyclists.  By  Charles  Howard 
(Wanderers'  B.  C.  and  C  T.  C).  Fourth  edition.  London:  [Mason  &  Payne,  41  Cornhili,  £. 
C,  successors  in  '86  to]  Letts,  Son  &  Co.,  Limited.  18S4."  So  reads  the  long-drawn-out  title- 
pa^e  of  the  longest  and  most  laborious  book  ever  put  together  for  the  encouzagement  of  cycle 
touring,  in  advance  of  this  present  volume  of  my  own.  The  author  has  supp.icd  some  little 
account  of  its  various  editions,  and  of  himself,  to  my  550th  page ;  and  I  supplement  it  by  saying 
that  whoever  intends  to  do  much  riding  in  England  should  study  this  standard  work  at  home, 
and  then  carry  one  of  the  author's  shilling  "  route-books  "  in  his  pocket  for  actual  service  upon 
the  road.  The  index  of  towns,  in  triple  columns,  covers  the  last  40  of  the  437  pp.  in  the  book 
(exclusive  of  34  adv.  pp.,  some  of  which  are  interpolated  among  the  reading  matter),  and  names 
about  9000  of  them,— giving  page-numerals  in  all  cases,  and  also  in  most  pases  mileage-numerals 
which  show  the  town's  distance  fn»n  London  by  direct  road.  The  typography  is  compact  and 
dear,  though  not  elegant,  and  the  style  is  strictly  statistical,— no  personal  narrative  whatever 
being  indulged  in.  The  preface  says  that "  the  mileage  is  based  upon  that  given  in  '  Paterson's 
Roads '  (18th  ed.,  1836),  with  some  few  corrections  from  the  Ordnance  Survey  and  mile-stones  " 
mentions  that  "  '  Cary's  Roads '  as  well  as  Paterson's  ran  through  many  editions  between  1780 
and  1S30,  the  heyday  of  the  coaching  period,"  and  gives  a  brief  review  of  "  roads,"  "maps," 
'*  r.  r.  rates  for  cycles,"  and  the  "  C,  T.  C."  County  maps  are  objected  to  by  the  author  "  be- 
cause of  their  difference  in  scale ;  irregularity  of  their  relative  position ;  inexactness  of  finish, 
and  want  of  coincidence  at  the  boundaries,  whereby  the  tracing  of  roads  from  one  county  to 
another  is  made  difficult ;  then  again,  they  seldom  show  the  hills  well,  some  not  at  all ;  and  46 
such  maps  are  needed  to  cover  England  and  Wales."  On  the  other  hand,  "  the  sectional  map 
of  the  whole  may  be  had  in  no  sheets  (34  by  35  in.,  i  m.  to  x  in.),  at  6a  c  each,  though  for 
nearly  all  the  country  n.  o(  the  Thames  valley  it  may  also  be  had  in  quarter  sections,  at  35  c  or  37 
c  each.  It  is  issued  by  the  Government  Ordnance  Survey,  and,  though  some  parts  of  it  are  more 
than  50  years  old,  it  forms  the  basis  of  all  the  privately-published  maps.  The  hilis  and  eleva- 
tions are  shown  by  shaded  lines,— dark  and  sharply  defined  where  the  slopes  are  high  and  steep, 
but  engraved  lightly  for  moderate  undulations.  Every  main  road,  by-road  and  lane  is  distinctly 
given,  and  dotted  lines  show  where  they  cross  commons  or  heaths.  Distances,  mile  by  mile,  are 
marked  on  most  of  the  main  roads,  and  in  many  places  the  elevations  are  given  in  feeL  Every 
town,  village,  park,  wood,  and  most  residences  and  farms  are  noted.  The  map  is  thus  an  in- 
icresting  study  for  home  reference,  but  (even  on  this  smallest  scale  used  in  official  issues,— i  m. 
to  I  in.,— to  say  nothing  of  their  several  larger  scales)  it  is  too  cumberous  and  costly  for  pocket 
carrying  and  long-distance  touring.  The  new  Ordnance  Survey  (begun  a  few  years  ago  and 
not  yet  ['8a]  completed)  offers  us  a  sectional  map,  which  is  to  comprise  360  sheets,  13^  by  1 1^  in., 
at  as  c.  each ;  but  in  this,  unfortunately,  lines  of  contour  elevation  replace  the  old  hill<shading. 
A  fac-simile  of  this,  reduced  by  photography  to  4  m.  tp  i  in.,  has  been  issued  at  xa  c  a  sheet, 
but  I  hardly  think  it  will  find  favor.  The  so-called  Reduced  Ordnance  map,  a  m.  to  i  in.,  has 
65  sheets,  20  by  24  in.,  at  37  c  each ;  but  it  is  really  older  than  the  Ordnance  Survey,  though 
corrected  from  it.  Another  series,  4  m.  to  x  in.,  has  14  sheets,  25  by  19  in.  {jL  *.,  100  m.  by  80  m.), 
at  37  c  each ;  and  it  is  really  reduced  from  the  x  m.  Ordnance.  I  recommend  this  4  m.  scale  map, 
which  shows  by-roads  as  well  as  main  roads,  as  most  suitable  for  tourists.  The  prices  named 
do  not  include  mounting  or  folding."  (The  Letts  ed.  of  this  map  is  advertised  in  sheets  of  30  by 
sa  in.,  covering  about  xoo  m.  by  70  m.,  at  50  c.  folded  in  doth  cover,  or  69  c.  mounted  on  linen.) 

Opposite  the  title-page  of  the  book  whose  preface  has  just  been  quoted,  is  inserted  a  "  key 
map  (13  by  17  in.,  aS  m.  to  x  in.)  to  Letts's  bicycle  map  in  65  sheets,"  with  a  marginal  note  that 
**  any  part  of  the  cotmtry  embraced  within  the  squares  drawn  can  be  had,  on  the  scale  of  a  m.  to 


682  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

I  in.,  37  by  at  in.,  with  roads  colored,  in  stiff  oover,  at  37  c.  per  square  (or  63  c,  if  moonted  vm 
linen)."  I  have  before  me  No.  13  of  these  squares,  whidi  shows  the  south  cosist  fran  Haatingi 
to  Brighton  and  beyond,  and  it  seems  as  perfect  a  guide  as  a  wheebnan  need  ask  for.  It  b  backed 
with  cloth,  and  jointed  into  ai  parts,  2|  by  4  in.,  so  as  to  fold  into  a  pasteboard  oorer  of  that 
size,  and  its  weight  is  «,\  oz.  The  same  publishers  have  also  sent  me  their  "  cycling  map  of  50  m. 
round  London,"  4  nu  to  i  in.,  the  sheet  being  jointed  into  32  sections,  so  as  to  fold  into  a  doth 
cover  4  by  6  in.  ($1.25,  or  6a  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  26  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  3I  ok.  ;  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  donbk 
the  scale  of  "  France,"  being  12  m.  to  i  in.,  but  though  it  covers  a  sheet  37  by  32  in.,  it  weighs 
only  1  oz.,  as  the  paper  used  is  of  the  "  bank-note"  quality,~thin  and  tough.  I  speak  of  the 
edition  which  is  supplied  at  25  c.  as  a  supplement  to  "  Howard's  Roads'*  (whose  cost,  bound 
in  blue  cloth,  limp,  is  otherwise  $1.35),  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  rider  in  England  ;  and  to  indicate 
hs  excellence  by  comparison,  I  call  it  far  superior  to  the  lithographed  map  (34  by  34  in.,  8  ol  to 
I  in.)  which  accompanies  the  '86  ed.  of  the  League's  Ohio  road-book,  though  the  tatter's  scale 
is  one-third  larger.  Two  other  more  expensive  editions  of  the  same  chart  (thick  paper  at  $1.25, 
linen  backed  at  $2.62  ;  weight  of  the  latter,  12  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  "divisioiu] 
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  21  by  27  in.,  12  m.  to  i  in.  (25  c.  or  6a  c),  "  show- 
ing the  road,  rail  and  water  communication,  with  mountains,  hills  and  lochs  '* ;  '*  Kentidi 
Watering  Places,  Heme  Bay  to  Dover,  a4  by  24  in.,  i  m.  to  i  in."  (12  c  and  25  c)  ;  "En- 
▼irons  of  London,"  39  by  30  in.  (25  and  50  c),  "  showing  each  r.  r.  system  in  distinct  color,  and 
all  the  parks,  streams  and  landmarics  in  bold  style" ;  and  " County  Maps "  (46),  17 by  14  in., 
(12  c,  25  c.  and  50c.).  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  dis- 
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  laiige  sale.  I  repeat  the  new  firm-aame 
and  addrenn  (Mason  &  Payne,  41  Comhill,  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- 
tiac  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  Geo.  Philip  &  Son,  of  3a  Fleet  St.,  who  express  the  hope  that  they  may  "  want  more," 
and  who  send  for  my  review  a  "  map  of  Surrey  "  (2  m.  to  i  in.,  with  London  in  n.  w.  corner), 
saying  that,  as  all  their  46  "  county  maps  for  cyclists  "  (25  c.)  are  on  sheets  of  the  same  size  (ai  by 
15  in. ;  stout  paper,  weighing  a  oz.  in  cloth  cover,  6  by  3I  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,"  (a)  |*  put  on  brake,"  (3)  "  danger- 
ous—dismount "  ;  red  capitals  show,  "  (O,  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,"  wUch 
covers  a  double  sheet.    The  same  publishers  advertise  "  handy  county  atlases  "  (crown  8vn, 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  683 

rfoth  87  c,  leather  $1.50)  as  follows  :  "  England,"  43  maps ;  "  Ireland,"  33  maps ;  "  Scotland," 
3a  maps ;  "  Wales,"  16  maps  (6a  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), 
aod  a  series  of  38  pocket  maps  (aa  by  ^^  in.,  35  c),  comprising  nearly  all  the  other  countries. 
L.  Upcott  Gill  (170  Strand,  London)  advertises  {}Vfueiing,  July  14,  *86)  a  30  c.  '*  route  map 
off  England  and  Wales,  linen>mounted  and  cased  in  cloth,  showing  dearly  the  main  roads,  di»> 
tances  between  towns  as  well  as  mileage  from  London,  and  having  30  of  the  most  interesting 
Koun  specially  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. 
Griffin,  formeriy  ed.  of  the  Bi.  Newt.  Wm.  Collins,  Sons  &  Co.,  Bridewell  PI.,  London,  E. 
C.,  pub.  a  cycling  map  of  England  and  Wales,  in  15  sections  (each,  m  a  case,  50  c.  or  63  c;  4 
m.  to  X  in.),  which  the  Cyclist ^  of  June  11,  '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  Wheeling  (July  aS,  *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"  (167  pp.  of  about  58,000  words ;  25  c.  Strand  Publishing  Co.,  London, 
•83),  which  is  a  fairly  readable  story  of  "  adventures  among  the  Spanbrds,"  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  Cyclist  Ought  to  Know  "  ('83-'86,  35,000 
sokl  at  a  c),  and  "  Abridgment  of  Velocipede  Specifications  "  (Iliffes,  '87,  by  subscription  at 
$5.35).  The  paper  "  On  the  Construction  of  Modem  Cycles  "  which  he  read  before  the  Institu- 
tion of  Mechanical  Engineers  (Oct.  36,  '85,  at  Coventry)  was  published  by  the  same  in  a  pam* 
phlet  which  Wheeling  characterized  "  as  profusely  illustrated  and  invaluable  for  reference  " ; 
while  the  Bi.  World  repeated  this  complimentary  adjective  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  (i  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  Velocipedes  and  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.,  35  c).  The  substance  of  the  compilation  was  read  at  two  evening  sessions  of  the 
"  Pontypridd  Mutual  Improvement  Class,"  early  in  '85,  and  publication  was  made  at  their  re- 
quest by  Morris  Brothers,  of  Cardiff,  South  Wales,  manufacturers  of  the  "  Cambrian  "  cycles 
and  dealers  in  all  sorts  of  cycling  specialties, — whose  price-list  of  Jan.,  '85,  covers  60  pp.  and 
says  "established  in  '73."  I  have  received  from  Fred.  Warner  Jones  (b.  1843),  "A  Treatise 
on  the  Theoretical  &  Practical  Construction  of  the  Tricycle  "  (Iliffes,  '84,  pp.  76,  4}  oz.,  37  c), 
a  carefully  written  and  neatly  printed  pamphlet,  with  31  illustrative  diagrams,  accompanied  by 
the  following  autograph  letter,  responding  to  my  enquiries  (Sept.  36,  '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- 
cles 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 
avoiding  to  the  gradient ;  aod,  this  year,  the  swing-framed  safety  bL    The  Devon  Mop  bell, 


684  T^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

the  tri  tug  and  tho  sliding  spring  Ux  tricycles  were  also  originated  by  me.  Among  my  varioaa 
contributions  to  the  cycling  papers,  I  may  name  articles  on  the  adjustment  of  a  rider  to  a  tricycle 
and  on  the  correct  position  and  size  of  tricycle  wheels ;  and  my  treatise,  herd)y  forwarded  to  you, 
is  the  only  work  as  yet  published  on  the  subject."  From  W.  J.  Spurrier  (b.  Apr.  29,  *47),  of 
3  Queenswood  Road,  Moseley,  Birmingham,  there  has  come  to  me  the  foUowiAg  simple  list  of 
his  pamphlet  contributions  to  wheel  knowledge:  "  Tourisu'  Guide,"  'Sx  (13th  thousand  in  *&«); 
"  Cydos,  with  road  maps  and  descriptive  routes  and  lists  of  dangerous  hills,"  '8s ;  "  How 
to  Ride  a  Cycle,"  '84;  "  The  Cyclist's  Touring  &  Road  Guide,"  '84;  "The  Cyclist's  Route 
Book,  for  England,  Wales,  Scotland  and  Ireland,  with  map,"  '86.  The  last  named  is  ismed 
by  the  Iliffesat  14  c,  and  I  presume  the  rest  may  also  be  published  by  them. 

"  The  Coventry  ring  "  is  a  title  often  given  by  opposition  writers  to  this  publishing  firm  of 
Iliffe  &  Son,  whose  printing-works  are  at  12  Smithford  St.,  in  that  town,  and  whose  l,<nyk?w 
office  is  at  98  Fleet  st.    They  apparently  issue  more  cycling  journals,  books  and  pamphlets  tfaas 
any  other  firm  in  England,— or,  possibly,  than  all  other  firms, — and  perhaps  this  is  the  reason  why 
others  stigmatise  them  as  a  "  ring."    I  do  not  know  whether  the  term  is  restricted  to  them,  or  is 
designed  to  include  the  various  cyde  makers  in  their  town  whose  wares  they  advertise  and  recom- 
mend ;  but  I  judge  that  familiarity  has  deprived  it  of  most  of  its  mtended  offensiveness  as  as 
epithet,  for  I  notice  that  it  is  occasionally  used,  as  a  convenient  descriptive  phrase,  by  writers  who 
are  in  the  employ  of  the  Iliffes,  or  at  least  on  friendly  terms  with  them.    An  interest  in  the  firm 
seems  to  be  owned  by  Henry  Sturmey,  editor  of  their  chief  joiu*nal,  of  whom  I  have  printed  some 
account  on  pp  548^,  and  from  whom  I  have  vainly  tried  to  coax  the  material  for  a  complete  bibir 
ography  and  free  advertisement  of  the  firm's  productions.    The  best  he  would  do  was  to  send 
(Nov.  28,'85)  an  undated  list  of  these  9  books, with  an  assurance  that  it  embraced  all  which  the  firm 
then  had  in  the  market :    (1)  "  Tricydists'  Indispensable  Annual  &  Handbook ;  by  H.  Stonney ; 
describesevery  machine  made ;  profusely  illust. ;  new  ed.  for  '84,  revised  and  enlarged ;  demy  Svot 
410  pp ;  75  c.  and  $s.  la.  (a)  Safety  Bicycles:  their  varieties,construction,  and  use ;  by  H.  Stuimey  ; 
an  indispensable  handbook  for  nervous  riders ;  demy  8vo,  18  c  and  30  c.  (3)  Health  upon  Wheda; 
or,  cycling  as  a  means  of  preserving  and  restoring  the  vital  powers;  by  W.  Gordon  Stables,  M. 
D.,  C.  M. ;  crown  8vo,  125  pp ;  a8  c  and  50  c.   (4)  Tricyding  for  Ladies ;  by  Miss  F.  J.  Erskine 
crown  8vo,  14  c.    (5)  Nauticus  in  Scotland ;  246a  Miles  on  a  Tricycle ;  with  numerous  iilusa. 
demy  8vo;  new  ed.  56  c    (6)  Training  for  Amateur  Athletes,  with  spedal  regard  to  Bicyclists 
by  Dr.  H.  L.  Cortis ;  ad  ed. ;  arown  8vo.,  colored  illust. ;  28  c  and  50  c.    (7)  Complete  Guide  to 
Bicyding ;  by  H.  Sturmey ;  3d  ed. ;  crown  8vo,  100  pp.  28  c  aikd  50  c     (8)  The  Rights  and  Lia- 
bilities of  Cydists ;  a  legal  handbook,   by  John  A.  Williamson,  solidtor ;  crown  8vo,  3a  ppw 
14  c."    The  9th  book  on  the  list  is  F.  W.  Jones's  treatise  on  the  tricyde,  which  I  have  already 
described.    The  English  prices,  as  translated  by  me  into  American  currency  and  named  fint  in 
each  case,  indude  a  postage  charge  of  from  2  c  to  12  c  ;  while  the  second  and  higher  figures 
represent  the  prices  for  which  the  books  are  mailed  by  the  firm's  American  agents,  the  BL 
World  Co.,  of  Boston.    "  Demy  8vo  "  means  a  page  i\  by  8^  in.  and  "  crown  "  means  one  of 
about  s  by  7  in.    All  the  9  are  in  paper  covers,  and  I  suppose  contain  many  advertisements.    I 
think  that  No.  z  appeared  in  July,  '84,  and  its  two  earlier  eds.  in  '82  and  '83.     No.  a  came  oat 
in  the  summer  of  '85 ;  and,  in  Aug.,  '85,  No.  7,  which  the  BL  JVorid^dv.  called  "  an  improve*, 
ment  over  the  two  previous  editions,  which  have  reached  an  enormous  sale,  for  the  work  ix»- 
dudes  everything  which  can  possibly  be  needed  by  the  novice,  and  a  great  deal  of  value  to  the 
veteran."    No.  4  was  thus  "  reviewed  "  by  Wheeling  (Sept.  3,  '85) :  "  'Tricycling  for  Ladies* 
is  out.    Very  much  out.     It's  cheap,  and  there  we  draw  the  line.    Whether  or  no  one  cares  to 
pay  sixpence,  to  wade  through  54  pp.  of  news  as  old  as  Adam,  we  leave  to  the  judgment  of 
common-sense  ;  so  let's  pass  on."    No.  5  was  originally  issued  in  doth  at  $1.12,  and  an  adv.  of 
Mar.,  '85,  announdng  the  cheaper  edition,  says  :  "  The  author,  a  retired  naval  man,  laid  down 
his  2500  m.  tricyde  tour  so  as  to  embrace  the  most  interesting  scenery  in  Scotland.     Though 
giving  valuable  deuils  as  to  roads,  hotels  and  equipment,  the  record  is  so  pleasantly  written 
that  it  is  in  every  sense  a  readable  book.     Interesting,  instructive  and  amusing,  it  is  also  an 
accurate  guide  to  the  country.    It-  has  31  taking  illusL  and  a  map."    The  author  of  No.  6  (b^ 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  685 

Jane  17,  '57 ;  d.  Dec.  29,  '85)  was  the  first  man  who  ever  pushed  a  Incycle  ao  m.  within  the 
hour,  aud  was  probably  the  best  known  and  best  liked  amateur  racer  in  Eng^nd,  being  cham> 
pfon  at  all  distances  in  '8b.  He  died  while  practicing  as  a  physician  in  Australia,  leaving  a  wife 
and  two  children  ;  and  his  brother  printed  there  a  formal  contradiction  of  the  story  that  racing 
was  in  any  remote  way  a  cause  of  the  fatality.  No.  8  probably  appeared  in  June,  '85,  and  is 
arranged  under  three  heads :  *'As  Cyclists  in  General,"  "As  Toimsts  **  and  **As  Regards 
the  Betting  Law."  The  BL  /#W/(i/ called  it  "an  admirable  work;  for,  although  it  treats  mat- 
ters of  law  from  an  English  standpoint,  it  has  much  in  it  of  value  to  Americans."  Its  appen- 
dix gives  "the  model  by-laws  approved  by  the  local  government  board";  and  its  chapter 
headings  are  as  follows :  "  Negligence ;  master  and  servant ;  the  hire  system ;  distraint ; 
highways ;  by-Uws  and  tolls ;  furious  driving  and  footpath  riding ;  law  of  the  road ;  accidents ; 
what  to  do  in  case  of  an  accident ;  duties  of  innkeepers."  No.  3  was  issued  in  Feb.,  '85  ;  and 
the  same  author  published,  through  the  same  house,  just  a  year  later  "  Rota  Vita  :  a  guide  to 
health  and  rational  enjoyment,"  of  which  the  adv.  says  that  "among  other  highly  interesting 
and  useful  matter  it  describes  his  long  tricycle  tour  (laoo  m.)  through  England  and  Scot* 
land."  I  suppose  it  is  a  shilling  pamphlet.  Such,  certainly,  is  "The  Tricycle,  in  Relation  to 
Health  and  Recreation,"  which  appeared  about  the  same  time,  though  I  think  from  another 
pubfishing  house.  It  is  a  collection  of  articles  written  for  the  Good  Wortb  magazine,  by  B.  W. 
Richardson,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  author  of  "  Diseases  of  Modem  Life,"  and  other  books,  to 
whom  I  have  ventured  to  dedicate  a  few  verses  on  p.  63  asUt^ 

There  Hes before  me  "The  *  Indispensable  *  Bicyclist's  Handbook,  a  complete  cyclopedia  of 
the  sul^ect ;  profusely  illustrated ;  third  year;  eighth  thousand  "  (IKffes;  demy  8vo,  385  pp.  and  50 
adv.  pp. ,  35  c),  by  H.  Sturmey,  whose  preface,  of  June  30,  '80,  says,  as  a  reason  iox  omitting  cer- 
tain sections  which  appeared  in  the  eds.  of  '78  and  '79 :  "  Whilst  I  do  not  wish  to  raise  the  price, 
I  cannot  again  undertake  the  very  great  work  of  compilation  at  a  positive  monetary  loss  to  myself, 
9S  has  been  the  case  with  those  two  eds.,  notwithstanding  their  unprecedented  success  from  every 
other  point  of  view.  This  book  is  a  practical  guide  for  the  selection  and  purchase  of  the  bicy- 
de,  and  some  360  makes  are  concisely  described."  A  table  of  comparative  prices  is  given,  with 
Ust  of  manufacturers  and  an  index.  New  eds.  came  out  in  '81  and  '82 ;  and  the  6th  ed.,  though 
promised  for  '85  (when  all  the  old  ones  were  out  of  print),  did  not  appear  till  after  »86.  At  that 
time,  the  BL  World  Co.  offered  to  "  close  out  the  old  stock  of  *  Tri.  Indispensables '  "  (before 
described  as  issued  by  the  same  author  in  »8a,  '83  and  '84),  at  15  c.  each,  or  25  c.  by  mail,  ra- 
stead  of  $1.13.  I  mention  this  to  say  that  the  coming  of  a  new  ed.  usually  spoils  the  price  of 
the  old,  without  at  all  spoiling  its  value  for  ordinary  use  or  reference.  This  "  Indispensable  '* 
of  »8o  announced  that  "  the  Tricycle  Aimual,  or  indispensable  handbook,  will  be  ready  in  Aug." 
(though  I  believe  it  did  not  really  appear  till  *8a),  and  it  also  advertised  the  following :  "  Bicy- 
de  Road  Book  :  a  complete  guide  to  the  roads  of  Eng.,  Scot,  and  Wales,  with  a  list  of  the  best 
hotels  and  notable  places  on  each  journey,"  by  Charles  Spencer,  author  of  "  the  Modem 
Gymnast"  and  "the  Modem  Bicycle"  (London  :  Griffith  ft  Farran,  St.  Paul's  Churchyard; 
limp  cloth,  50  c),  who  rode  a  bone-shaker  from  London  to  Bath,  Sept.,  '69 ;  "  Cyclist's  Pocket 
Book  and  Diary,  for  reference  and  registration,  t88o-i  "  (London  :  170  Strand;  roan,  67  c); 
"  The  Golden  Rules  of  Training,"  chiefly  for  cyclers  (4th  ed.,  jth  thousand,  5  c),  pub.  at  Wey- 
mouth by  H.  A.  Judd,  the  present  ed.  of  H^heel  Worid;  "  Romances  of  the  Wheel "  (Iliffes,  aS 
c),  and  "  Hotel  Charges  Directory,"  by  S.  Fussell  (Iliffes,  28  c).  From  another  source  I  leam 
that  Spencer's  "  The  Modem  Bicyde,"  named  above,  was  issued  by  F.  Wame  ft  Co.,  London, 
in  '70,  wth  a  sd  or  3d  ed.  in  '76 ;  "  but  it  is  meager  and  relates  to  the  bone-shaker."  In  Feb., 
'86,  the  Iliffes  advertised  these  three  additional  books  :  "  The  Agents'  guide ;  a  complete  intro- 
duction ro  the  cycle  trade,  giving  all  the  details  that  a  business  man  would  require  "  (crown 
8vo,  28  c.) ;  "  Cyclists'  Guide  and  Road  Directory  to  the  County  of  Nottingham ;  "  by.  W.  H. 
Heath,  C.  T.  C.  (28  c.) ;  "  W.  J.  Spurrier's  Cyclists'  Touring  Road  Guide  and  best  routes  to 
or  from  any  part  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  "  (with  map ;  14  c).  I  extract  the  above  from 
"  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's  on  a  tricyde,"  by  Tom  Moore,  ed.  of  Tri. /ottmai (London : 
H.  Etherington,  80  pp.  and  18  adv.  pp. ;  photo,  of  T.  R.  Marriott ;  ra  c,  a|  o>.),  which  it  de- 


686         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

scribed  on  p.  554.  "  The  Liverpool  Cyclists'  Pocket  Guide  and  Qub  Directory  for  '85  **  (64 
pp.  and  40  adv.  pp. ;  8  c,  1^  oz.),  third  year,  is  edited  and  published  at  2  Brunswidi  sL,  bf 
Geo.  £.  Young,  "  official  tailor  and  uniform  nuU&er  to  the  C.  T.  C"  and  various  cycfang  dubs. 
Its  frontispiece  is  a  photo,  of  G.  B.  Mercer,  president  of  the  Anfield  B.  C,  who  is  diaiiogu^ud 
as  a  long-distance  rider;  and  its  "long-distance  register"  gives  deuib  of  103  rides  of  100  n. 
or  more  in  24  h.,  which  were  taken  in  '84  by  men  living  in  or  near  Liverpool  The  fourth  aansal 
issue  of  tlie  guide  Quly,  '86)  coi^tains  a  photo,  of  G.  P.  Mills,  who  took  the  "  J.  O'G.  reoonl" 
iu  the  wonderful  time  of  5  days,  i  hotu-,  45  minutes.  "  Tricycles  and  How  to  Ride  Them,*'  a 
series  of  penny  reprints  from  the  Tricyclist,  describing  the  8  following  machines,  are  maikd  for 
3  c.  each  by  the  lliffes :  Humber,  Coventry  Roury,  No.  i  Challenge,  Omnicycle,  Premier, 
Quadrant,  Rucker  and  Diana.  These  little  tracts  are  "  revised  from  the  original  by  G.  L 
HilJier  and  H.  Sturmey."  Of  similar  size  is  "  Cordingley's  Penny  Guide  to  Tricyding"  (to^- 
000  printed  for  ist  ed.,  Apr.,  '86),  mailed  for  3  c.  from  office  of  Tri.  Journal  nzxacA  below. 

A  letter  to  me  from  the  publisher  of  the  TrLJaurmdy  C.  Cordingley  (Hammersmith  Print* 
ing  Works,  London,  W.,  May  27,  '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  £nglish  market.  Another  annual  of  mine,  '  The  Wheelman's  Year  Book,' 
gives  a  chronology  of  the  year's  bicyding. "  The  BL  /fW-itf  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  IVkeelimg;  whose  opinions  and  descriptions  I  quote  :  "  The  Sooltish  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  6.  C,  can  be  obtained  at  the  Eng.  and  Foreign  Library,  Blackheath, 
S.  E.  (June  10,  '85) ;  the  2d  ed.  (60  routes,  6  c.)  has  just  been  published  at  the  Cycle  Supi^ 
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  inconvenienos.  Pub.  by  J.  Menzies  &  Ca 
of  Edinburgh  (Sept.  16,  '85).  An  interesting  litde  pamphlet,  extracted  from  the  CMatrck  0/ 
Ireland  Temperance  Visitor^  entitled  "  From  Holyhead  to  London  on  Tricycles,"  by  E. 
MacD.  C,  has  reached  us,  and  provides  good  reading.  Pub.  by  Falconer,  Dublin  (Feb.  3, 
'86).  "  The  Tricycle  and  Tricycling  "  is  the  title  of  a  neatly  got  up  little  handbook  issued  by 
the  Ballantyne  Press.  It  contains  much  valuable  information  and  is  worth  the  price  (12  c)  and 
a  bit  more  to  a  novice.  The  author  is  "  B.,  C.  T.  C.  and  N.  C.  U.,"  which  is  a  gratifying 
pie<«  of  information  (June  9,  '86).  We  have  received  a  copy  of  the  "  Southern  Counties  Camp 
Handbook,"  which  is  a  capitally  gotten  up  little  pampldet,  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,  '86). 
"The Training  Instructor,"  pub.  from  the  Sportsman  office,  139  Fleet  st,  E,  C.  C85,  doth 
bound,  2S  c),  is  recommended  to  bi.  racers  by  Wheelingy  which  also  praised  "  The  Scmg 
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  Tunes  of  Nov.  3, 
'85,  at  iu  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  j  of  a  m.  to  i  in.  Part  I.,  crimson  cloth,  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"  Tlie  simSar 
annuals  for  '77  (ed.  by  C.  W.  Nairn,  foo  pp.),  '78  (portrait  of  J.  Keen),  '79  (portrait  of  F. 
Cooper,  I II  bi.  routes),  '81  and  '8a,  compiled  by  C.  J.  Fox,  editor  of  the  Timts,  cost  30  c,  which 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  687 

-mwA  presamably  the  fint  price  of  the  '80  issoe.  Each  annual  differed  in  misoellaneooB  oontents, 
auid  perhaps  the  series  was  prolonged  beyond  'Sa.  "  The  Bicycle  for  '74  "  (8vo,  250  pp.,  30  c) 
mm  also  followed  by  '76,  '77  and  '78  issues,  differing  in  contents,  having  fewer  pages,  and  sell- 
ing foris  c  It  was  published  from  the  office  of  the  BiejcU  Journal  (14  St.  Bride  St.,  Ludgate 
Hill),  a  penny  weekly  of  la  pp.  which  made  a  specialty  of  racing  news,  and  died  long  ago. 
**  The  Cyclist's  Guide  to  the  Roads  of  the  Lake  District  and  Isle  of  Man  "  was  issued  previous 
to  '84  by  N.  F.  Duncan,  of  Carlisle.  "  A  Canterbury  Pilgrimage,  ridden,  written  and  illus- 
trated by  Joseph  and  Elizabeth  Robins  PennelJ ''  (London :  Seeley  &  Co.,  Essex  st. ;  July, 
*85 ;  sq.  8vo,  25  c),  describes  a  three  days'  tour  from  London  to  Canterbury,  taken  in  Aug.,  '84, 
on  a  tandem  tricycle,  by  a  Philadelphia  artist  and  his  wife.  It  was  republished  a  month  later  by 
C  Scribner's  Sons,  of  New  York,  at  50  c,  and  haa  been  praised  by  the  wheel  press  of  both 
countries.  The  same  happy  pair  will  issue  in  Oct  a  similar  book,  "  Two  Pilgrims'  Pro^ss ; 
or,  Italy  from  a  Tricycle"  (London  :  Seeley  &  Co. ;  Boston  :  Roberts  Bros.),  being  a  reprint  of 
articles  contributed  by  them  to  the  Century  (Mar.  and  Apr.,'86),  called  "  Through  Italy  on  a  Tii- 
cycle."  Longman  &  Co.  announce  in  preparation  a  series  of  voliunes,  "  designed  as  a  standard 
library  of  sports  and  pastimes,"  whereof  the  book  on  cydmg  will  be  written  by  Viscount  Bury 
and  G.  Lacy  Hillier,  editor  of  BL  Ntun.  That  paper  of  Feb.  la,  '86,  said  :  " '  The  Year's 
Sport '  (Longmans,  550  pp.)  has  just  made  its  first  appearance ;  is  carefully  put  together  and 
readably  written ;  and  the  cycling  section  is  supplied  by  '  B.,'  " — who  is  perhaps  the  viscount 
just  mentioned,  and  also  the  author  of  the  recent  tricycling  book,  sarcastically  alluded  to  by  Wketl' 
imgy  au  quoted  on  the  previous  page.  "  My  Cycling  Friends,  designed  and  compiled  for  coUec* 
tion  of  autographs,"  by  C.  Alan  Palmer  (London,  A.  Palmer  &  Sons;  100  pp.,  cloth,  gilt,  50 
c),  was  advertised  as  early  as  Mar.,  '84*  at  |i,  by  the  late  W.  C.  Marvin,  of  Ovid,  Mich., 
"  sole  agent  for  the  U.  S."  It  contains  300  spaces  for  autographs,  with  a  picture  and  poetical 
quotation  accompanying  each ;  and  it  has  been  very  well  spoken  of  by  the  press.  "  A  Pocket 
Manual  of  the  Bicycle"  (32  pp.,  3^  by  5  in.)  was  issued  by  Hamilton,  Adams  &  Co.  in  '78. 
'*  The  Bicyclist's  Pocket-Book  and  Diary  for  '78"  (167  pp.,  z\  by  4^  in.,  morocco,  with  pencil 
and  pockets)  was  issued  from  the  office  of  the  Country ^  170  Strand,  and  had  "  contents  well- 
diosen  and  valuable."  It  appeared  again  in  '79  and  perhaps  later.  "  The  Wheelman's  Year 
Book,  Diary  and  Ahnanack  for  '8a  "  (paper  30  c,  cloth  60  c ;  edited  by  H.  T.  Round,  com- 
piled and  pob.  by  W.  D.  Welford,  Newcastle-on-Tyne)  promised  in  its  advertisement  to  "  con- 
tain 250  to  300  pp.,"  and  quoted  many  favorable  press  notices  of  the  similar  book  for  '81,  which 
was  sold  at  same  prices.  Perhaps  there  were  later  issues.  The  earliest  adv.  which  I  have  seen 
of  a  touring  pamphlet  was  the  following  {,Am,  Bi.  Jour.^  Aug.  9,  '79,  p.  13) .  **  A  Bicycle  Ride 
from  Russia,~Eydkuhneu  to  Langenweddingen,  near  Brunswick,~by  Wm.  S.  Yorke  Shuttle- 
worth,  with  miniature  map,  and  photographs  of  pen-and-ink  sketches  by  the  author  (London  : 
I.  Snow  &  Co.,  2  Ivy  Lane,  Paternoster  Row ;  30  c)."  The  Cyelut  of  June  11,  '84,  had  an 
adv.  of  "  Westward  Ho  I  on  a  Sociable,"'  by  the  Guard  (Iliffes,  60  pp.,  14  c) ;  and  a  review  of 
"  The  Cycle  Directory,"  by  Chas.  Spencer  (London  :  Cassell  &  Co.,  200  pp.,  cloth,  50  c),  de- 
voted to  names  and  addresses  of  clubs,  hotels,  machines,  manufacturers,  dealer?  and  "  wheel- 
men  generally,'-  no  less  than  5000  of  the  lauer  being  alphabetised.  Of  the  same  date  was  the 
ad  ed.  of  Capt.  Robert  Cook's  "  Official  Handbook  of  the  Cycling,  Cricket,  Football  and  Lawn 
Tennis  Clubs  of  Essex  "  (Chelmsford:  Durrant  &  O).,  100  pp.,  4  c).  The  loth  ed.  of  the 
"  C.  T  C  Handbook  &  Guide  "  (Apr.,  »86;  304  pp.,  4  by  6^  in.,  no  adv.,  limp  cloth,  6  o*.,  2$ 
t),  "  compiled  and  published  annually  by  E.  R.  Shipton,  ed.  C.  T.  C.  GiugtU,  at  the  club 
offices,  139  Fleet  St.,"  is  said  to  have  been  subscribed  for  m  advance  by  more  than  a  seventh  of 
the  20,000  dub  members.  It  contains  constitution  and  rules,  lists  of  officers,  local  consuls, 
hotels,  repair^hops.  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  chaiiges  for  cycles,  64  pp.  of  blanks  for  a  diary  (Apr.,  '86,  to 
Mar.,  '87),  16  pp  of  index  to  towns,  and  a  colored  map  (13  by  19  in.,  40  m.  to  i  in.),  "  showing 
the  chief  consular  divisions  but  not  the  roads."  It  says  that  the  "  C.  T.  C.  Map  and  Road 
Book,*'  lor  several  years  in  preparation,  will  be  issued  in  the  spring  of  '87.  The  first  two  eds.  of 
the  "  Handbook  "  were  dated  July  and  Oct.,  '79,  and  the  first  nine  eds.  had  a  page  \  in.  narrower 
than  that  adopted  in  '86.    **  List  of  Renewed  Subscribers  for  '85  "  is  a  pamphlet  of  76  pp.,  7 


688  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

bf  lo  in.,  the  same  sue  as  the  GaaetUt  without  itde-fiage,  or  date,  or  price-mark ;  bat  I  infer 
that  it  appeared  in  Jan.,  '86,  and  that  copies  may  be  bought  of  the  secretary  for  iS  c  The 
introductory  note  says :  "  These  names  of  those  who  renewed  their  membenhip  by  payment  of 
the  annual  fee,  when  added  lo  names  of  candidates  published  month  by  month  in  the  Gmmttig 
Cbeginning  with  Jan.),  will  give  the  complete  C.  T.  C.  membenhip  at  any  period  dnrhag  the 
current  year."  As  each  page  contains  95  lines  of  fine  type,  in  double  cdnmns,  and  as  neariy 
every  line  contains  the  name  and  address  of  a  subscriber,  the  total  is  about  i4,oocx  The  names 
are  arranged  alphabetically  in  36  geographical  ''divisions,'*— 'thereof  37  belong  to  Ei^and, 
Scotland  and  Ireland,  and  cover  all  but  5  of  the  76  pp.  Of  the  9  foreign  "  divisions,''  the 
American  is  by  far  the  laigest,  covering  a  pp.,  with  nearly  400  names.  "  Coy's  Athletic  Oab 
Direaory  for  '83  "  (London :  ai  T«rad<fnhall  st.)  was  mentioned  in  '83  by  a  French  ampfler, 

A.  DeBaroncelli,  as  "  giving  the  names  and  addresses  of  all  the  English  cydii^  dubs  '* ;  and  he 
also  catalogued  the  following  titles  of  English  pamphlets,  without  any  other  details  than  those 
now  reproduced  :  "  The  Whixz,"  pub.  at  the  office  of  the  Bi.  Times  ;  "  On  Wheels ;""  Bi- 
cyclist's Handy  Record;"  "He  Would  Be  a  Bicyclist;"  "Velocipedes,"  by  VekaODasL, 
'69) ;  "  The  Velocipede/'  by  T.  F.  B.  (35  illust,  '69) ;  and  "  The  Modem  Velocipede  *'  (Qlnst., 
'69).  It  seems  likely  enough,  however,  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.  400. 
"  Velodpedeia,"  by  Jupiter,  of  the  Rovers  B.  C,  a  burlesque  extravaganza  in  3  acts,  was  adv. 
in  BL  Neva  of  Apr.  4,  '84,  as  "  the  only  bicycling  pUy  ever  performed;  a  few  copies  can  still  be 
had  at  this  ofiice,  price  13  c."  "  The  Guardians,"  by  Ixion  (pub.  at  BL  Ntms  office,  is  c), 
was  catalogued  in  '79,  by  C.  £.  Pratt,  as  "  a  burlesque  with  parodies  " ;  and  he  also  fccoo- 
mended  Knight's  Mechanical  Dictionary  and  the  Encyclopaedia  Britaanica  for  aitides  oa 
"  Velocipede  "  and  "  Bicycle  "  respectively. 

British  and  Austrauan  Journausu. 
The  seven  journals  now  supported  by  the  cycling  trade  in  England  may,  v<ery  Ukdy,  repre- 
sent more  than  twice  as  many  others  which  have  failed  in  the  stra^^e  for  existenoe ;  thoii(^ 
my  own  list  of  the  dead  exhibits  only  a  round  dozen  of  names.  Binningham's  weekly,  the 
Midland  AthUtk  Star  and  Cycling  News,  and  monthly,  Cyelos  (by  W.  J.  Spurrier),  both  seem  to 
have  been  killed  by  their  titles, — the  former  being  too  long  and  the  latter  too  Greek  for  "  Brmn- 
magem  popularity."  Manchester  also  had  a  weekly,  the  AthUtic  Nrmg  and  Cyclisi^  Jcmnmi 
($3),  and  Newcastle-on-Tyne  a  monthly,  Cycling^  which  was  mentioned  in  Mar.,  '79,  as  "  16 
pp.,  sm.  4to,  illusL,  6  c.,  managed  by  W.  D.  Welford,"  who,  in  Dec,  '81,  advertised  for 
American  subscriptions  at  #1.     Appended  to  it,  for  some  time,  was  the  Mbntkfy  Chxtdar  of  the 

B.  T.  C,  whereof  Mr.  W.  was  then  secretary.  DeBaronoelli's  list  of  "83  said,  "  CycHng-mn 
pub.  in  London,  by  C.  J.  Fox,  at  the  ofiice  of  the  BL  Tinus^^*  which  soon  afterwards  "ab> 
sorbed  "  it ;  and  the  same  list  mentioned  the  Btcyeli  and  TricycU  GaaetU^  without  givu^  de> 
tails.  Another  paper,  the  BicycU  Gat£tU  (formightly,  |a),  was  pub.  at  Coventry,  by  C  Dnay, 
early  in  '79,  and  perhaps  gave  way  to  the  present  Cyclist^  whidi  began  there  Oct  2a,  '79.  Aa 
adv.  of  that  date  described  the  Atkleiic  lVarld(pub.  by  E.  W.  AUen,  iz  Ave  Maria  Lane, 
London,  ^4)  as  "a  representative  weekly  of  bicycling  and  kindred  sports";  also  a  95  c 
pamphlet  by  the  same  publisher :  "  How  I  Cured  Myself  of  Nerrousness,  by  Qericus,"— the 
"  simple  means  of  restoration "  being  presomably  a  bicycle.  An  adv.  of  Dec,  *8i,  meotiooed 
fxwH  (h  c.)  as  "  a  new  illust.  monthly,"  issued  from  the  BL  Times  office ;  thoogh  it  began  is 
Jan.,  '75,  if  I  am  to  believe  a  chixxricler  {ff^eel  JVorld,  Mar.,  *85,  p.  41a)  who  says,  "  Ixiem 
was  the  first  cycling  monthly  and  had  but  a  short  life."  On  the  same  authority,  "  the  Bkyck 
Rider*s  Migusme  was  begun  in  June,  '76,  and  ed.  by  T.  Francis  Garrett,  a  sonewhat  erratic 
medico,  who  preferred  practicmg  with  his  pen,  instead  of  in.dw  orthodox  maimer,  and  whose 
attempts  at  facetiousness  were  particnlariy  extraordinary."  Perhaps  there  were  two  /jnnmf,— 
the  "  short-lived  "  one  of  '75,  and  the  "  new  "  and  not  long-lived  one  of  *8r.  On  this  theory, 
I  mfer  that  the  loi^gest^Hved  of  all  the  dead  was  the  BicyHeJeyrmal^  which  C.  E.  Pmtt's  fist  of 
Mar.,  '79,  notes  as  "a  la  p.  weekly,  am.  4to,  making  a  specialty  of  racing  news  andeeffiwt 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  689 

fior  s  penny  " ;  becanae  ha  records  that  an  annual  called  "  the  Bicycle  "  was  issued  from  its 
office,  14  St.  Bride  St.,  Ludgate  Hill,  from  '74  to  '78.  As  this  weekly  presumably  pieoeded  the 
annual,  it  must  have  begun  fully  two  years  earlier  than  the  Bi.  Htnts^  which  is  the  oldest  cycling 
joamal  now  living,  and  it  may  not  have  died  until  some  years  later  than  '79. 

The  competition  of  younger  and  more  enterprising  sheets  seems  to  have  brought  the  BL 
Uttat  itself  to  the  very  veige  of  the  grave,  when,  in  the  autumn  of  '85,  its  original  publisher 
and  proprietor,  Ben).  Clegg,  of  13  York  St.,  Covent  Garden,  sold  it  to  the  l\^^  {lVM*tling 
named  $150  as  the  rumored  price),  who  have  unce  issued  it  from  their  London  office,  98  I^leet 
sL, — beginning  the  new  series,  Oct  9,  '85,  as  "  Vol.  XL,  No.  i,"  though  the  tenth  annual  vol. 
would  not  regularly  have  ended  until  Dec.  jj.  James  Inwards  was  editor  from  Jan.  7,  '76,  till 
Oct.,  '83 ;  then  Tom  Moore  (who  had  been  his  assistant  from  Mar.,  '81)  till  Dec  30,  '84 ;  then 
Harry  Hewitt  Griffin,  till  the  change  in  ownership;  since  when  he  has  conducted  "  the  Cltdi 
Chronicle,  a  permanent  8  p.  supplement  to  the  B.  N.,  for  intercommunication  between  club 
members  and  the  general  public"  The  main  paper,  "  edited  by  Lacy  Hillier,"  has  la  pp.  of 
letterpress  (8  by  12  in.,  triple  columns)  and  an  outer  advertiser  of  8  pp.  ;  and  I  think  its  typo- 
graphic appearance  rather  neater  than  that  of  the  other  weeklies.  Like  them,  it  sells  for  2  c ; 
thoagfa  the  price  of  the  old  B.  ^.,  which  had  only  x6  pp.  (tnd.  4  adv.  pp.),  was  4  c  Its  date 
continues  Friday,  as  from  the  outset.  "  Most  valuable  part  is  its  correspondence  "  was  C.  £. 
Pratt's  judgment  of  it  ra  '79,  when  he  called  the  Bicyclmg  Time*  and  Touring  Gazeits  "  par- 
ticularly good  for  club  doings  and  portraits  of  cycling  celebrities,  with  sketches  "  (began*  May, 
'77*  at  East  Temple  Chambers,  Whitefriars  st. ;  weekly,  6  c,  ao  pp.  ind.  10  adv.  pp.).  I  infer 
that  its  editors  were  C.  W.  Nairn  and  C.  J.  Fox,  as  they  edited  the  "  Bicycle  Annual  for  '77  " 
and  following  years,  which  was  issued  from  the  same  office ;  and  the  Cycling  Times  is  still 
printed  and  published  there,  every  Tuesday,  by  the  proprietor,  H.  A.  Barrow,  with  Mr.  Fox 
as  editor,  though  his  name  is  not  announced.  I  do  not  know  just  when  the  **  Bi."  was 
knocked  of!  from  its  title ;  but  a  sub-head  proclaims  the  fact  that  it  is  a  continuation  of  the  B. 
T.&*T  G.,  and  also  of  the  Newcastle  monthly,  Cycling.  It  now  has  24  pp.  (8^  by  13  in.). 
the  outer  half  of  them  being  adv. ;  and  calls  itself  "  an  independent  review  of  the  sport  and 
trade, — cycling  events,  topics,  inventions,  communications,  and  subjects  of  collateral  interest." 
An  adv.  of  *79  for  American  subscriptions  to  the  Times,  at  ^3.50  (and  for  purchasers  of  the 
**  Sporting  Annual  for  '79*"  ^t  50  c)  named  Etherington  &  Co.  as  the  publishers ;  and  I  pre- 
sume the  head  of  the  firm  may  have  been  the  same  H.  £.  (b.  Aug.  37,  ^55)  whose  career  is 
sketched  on  pp.  546-9  ante,  though  no  mention  is  there  made  of  any  such  early  connection  with 
joamalism.  He  says,  rather,  as  if  telling  of  a  first  attempt,  "  It  was  in  '80  that  I  started  the 
IVJkeel  IVorldy  with  G.  Lacy  Hillier ;  ran  it  with  great  success  for  18  mos.,  then  sold  it  well  to 
Iliffe  &  Son,  and  contracted  an  agreement  to  publinh  it  and  the  Cyclist  at  their  offices,  15a  Fleet 
St.,  for  the  London  dutrict.  I  did  well  by  both  journals,  but  in  May,  '84,  dissolved  all  connec- 
tion with  the  Ili£Ees,  and  started  the  weekly,  Wheeling.''^  I  think  that,  at  about  this  time,  he 
may  also  have  pub.  the  Sporting  Mirror,  which  was  dated  from  No.  152  *,  and  that  the  new 
London  office  of  the  IMes,  at  98  Fleet  sL,  was  put  in  charge  of  Harry  A.  Judd  (b.  Aug.  16, 
'57),  the  present  editor  of  their  Wheel  World,  by  whom  the  first  3  eds.  of  Sturmey's  "  Indis- 
pensable "  had  been  pub.,  at  Weymouth,  in  '78  and  '79,  with  other  books  before  mentioned. 

"  Edited  by  William  McWilliam  &  Harry  Etherington  "  was  a  phrase  in  the  writers'  fac- 
simile autograph,  printed  beneath  the  laige-script  title.  Wheeling,  from  the  xst  to  the  27th  number 
of  that  Wednesday  weekly  (Apr.  30  to  Oct.  39,  '84) ;  then  the  former  withdrew,  to  accept  a  private 
secretaryship  o£Eered  by  the  proprietor  of  the  Rudge  cycle  works,  and  H.  E.'s  signature  appeared 
alone  until  the  9tRt  issue  (though  Tom  Moore  was  his  assistant  during  '8s) ;  while  since  Jan. 
Z3,  *86,  the  autographic  style  has  been  :  "  edited  by  Wm.  McCandlish  &  F.  Percy  Low,"  sur- 
moontrag  the  legend,  in  black  capitals :  "  Sole  Proprietor,  Harry  Etherington."  The  latter's 
visit  to  America  in  '79  somehow  suggested  to  him  the  title  (which  seems  to  me  by  far  the  happiest 
one  yet  hit  upon  in  the  entire  cycling  press),  but  the  existence  of  Wheeling  itself  is  due  to  Mr. 
McWilliam,  "  who,"  said  H.  E.,  in  parting  with  him,  "  persistently  worried  me  into  it,  and  I 
thank  him  most  sincerely  for  his  perseverance.    But  for  him,  I  doubt  whether  I  should  have 


690  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

tanyed  to  rival  the  paper  I  had  previooaly  pablished."  This  was  the  Cydisi,  \ 
Wednesday  since  Oct  as,  '79,  of  which  I  have  given  some  account  on  p.  548.  It  was  at  diat 
time  undoubtedly  the  most  prosperous  journal  in  the  trade, — the  issues  of  June  4  and  11,  *S4 
(which  are  the  latest  ones  1  've  seen),  each  having  40  adv.  pp.,  with  central  kuerpreas  of  20  pp. 
and  s6  pp.  respectively,  double-columns,  as  meat  for  the  "  sandwich  " ;  and  "  all  for  a  penny.** 
lu  sub-title  is  "Bicycling  and  Tricycling  Trades'  Review,"  and  its  final  line  reads  thos: 
"  Printed  and  pub.  for  the  proprietors,  W.  I.  Iliffe  &  H.  Sturmey,  by  lliffe  &  Son,  is  Smith- 
ford  St.,  Coventry."  Mr.  S.  is  named  as  provincial  editor,  and  C  W.  Nairn  as  editM-  for  the 
London  district.  The  fVA^el  ly^Hd,  iHnai. 

monthly,  with  the  same  editors  and  publishers,  is  adv.  as  "  companion  magasioe  10  the  CjtcUat  '*; 
and  from  July,  '82,  until  Oct.,  '85,  the  Iliffes  also  issued  (Fridays,  4  c)  the  Trkjclisi,  "  devoted 
to  the  sport,  the  pastime  and  the  trade ;  edited  by  Lacy  Hiiiier". 

This  had  i  a  to  16  pp.  of  neatly-printed  letterpress,  same  size  as  BL  Ntmn  bat  doobk^ 
columned,  and  an  outer  advertiser  of  8  or  10  pp. ;  and  1  think  that  A.  J.  Wilson  (see  p.  S54  f o' 
biog.)  was  employed  as  a  reguUr  contributor  or  assistant  ed.,  though  his  name  was  not  printed  at 
such.  Thus,  *'  the  Coventry  ring  "  possessed  the  field,  with  these  three  eminently  respectable 
trade-circulars  of  the  "  heavy  Hterary  "  sort,  when  their  quondam  partner  audaciooalj  piuyeited 
WJutling,  and  sought  to  win  a  foothold  for  it  by  forcing  as  pointed  a  contrast  as  possible  ia  re- 
gard to  "  style."  He  chopped  everything  up  into  short  paragraphs,  excluded  all  elaborate  racng 
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  expics- 
sion,  garnished  with  an  abundance  of  that  well-known  sort  of  "  American  slang "  whi^  is 
never  used  in  America.  He  was  rewarded  for  this  by  immediate  success,  to  which  '*  the  Cm- 
entry  ring "  promptly  bore  testimony  by  starting  an  imiution  weekly  (Friday,  Oct.  7,  ^), 
Wheel  Life,  **  the  cyclists'  society  paper,  edited  by  W.  McCandlish."  It  had  16  pp.,  the  same 
sixe  as  IVheelv^^  (9  by  13  in.),  but  better  printed,  with  a  supplementary  "  cartoon  sheet  '*  and 
only  a  few  advertisements ;  whereas  IVheeltHg  had  is  adv.  pp.  in  adctitioo  to  la  pp.  of  letter- 
press between  them.  IVkeel  Life  devoted  innumerable  paragraphs  and  articles  to  ridioile  and 
.abuse  of  IVkeeliug;  though  without  printing  its  name  (and  the  latter  adopted  the  same  rule  ia 
■its  retorts,  and  also  refrained  from  printing  the  names  CycliU  and  Trieyclistt  aiul  even  the  word, 
•"•cyclist  ") ;  but,  nevertheless,  Wheel  Life  and  the  TricydiMi  both  "  lost  money  for  their  own- 
en  «rith  great  hebdomadal  regularity,"  until,  in  the  eariy  auttmm  of  '85,  the  Uiffes  gave  op  all 
diope  of  trying  to  "  run  out  "  the  hated  interloper,  and  adopted  a  more  prudent  way  of  lessen- 
ling  Ifce  competition  in  an  overcrowded  field.  In  preference  to  a  flat  admission  of  defeat,  ihcy 
Ib«u|^  up  the  moribund  BL  News,  as  before  related,  for  the  sake  of  "  consolidatiog  "  their 
two  ualortunate  ventures  under  the  title  of  that  "  oldest  cyding  paper,  estab.  1876,"  whose  fall 
heading  now  reads  thus :  "  Bicyclimg^  News  and  Tricycling  Gtuette  with  which  are  inoorpetated 
the  Trieyclist  and  '  Wheel  Life  *  (with  Club  Chronicle)."  The  phrase  "  edited  by  Lacy  HiUier 
&  W.  McCandlish  "  was  shortened  to  include  L.  H.  alone  when  W.  McC  withdrew,  in  less 
.than  three  months,  to  become  editor  of  Wheeling^  taking  with  him  F.  Percy  Low  and  £.  A. 
Uoyd«  of  the  Bi.  News  staff,  and  leaving  there  H.  H.  Griffin,  A.  J.  Wilson,  A.  G.  MoniMs 
(see  p.  535)  and  H.  G.  Kelly,  who  had  worked  for  one  or  another  of  the  three  old  papen.  A 
portrait  and  brief  sketch  of  W.  McCandlish  (b.  Oct.  14,  '60),  appeared  in  BL  World  {yLv.  $, 
*86,  p.  jos),  showing  that  he  was  bom  in  Belleville,  Canada,  of  Scotch  parents,  and  chat  he 
uses  "  Agontstes  "  and  "  Junius  Junior  "  for  press  signatures.  His  associate,  F.  Percy  Low 
(b.  Dec.  9,  *6i),  k  a  native  of  London,  and  1  think  that  "Tlie  Octopus"  is  a  pen^oune 
which  belongs  to  him.  His  predecessor  as  "  joint  ed.  of  Wheeling,*^  during  *8s,  was  Tom 
Moore  (b.  June  30,  '60),  who  also  preceded  him  as  ed.  of  BL  News^  '81-4,  and  whose  pomaii 
and  biog.  appeared  in  Whteling,  Dec  31,  '84,  when  he  began  with  that  paper  a  year's  eagi^(e- 
ment.  In  the  course  of  this,  he  often  used  the  signatures  "  Ubique,"  "  The  O'Flanigin  "  sad 
*'  The  Man  with  the  Gimlet  Eye  "  ;  and  since  Feb.  3,  '86,  he  has  been  ed.  of  the  Trifydii^ 
Jvnmal,  "  the  representative  tri-newspaper ;  also  devoted  to  amateur  photography  and  kindred 
nbieals;  printed  and  pub.  every  Wednesday  by  Chas.  Cordingley,  Hammenmith  Printing 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL,  691 

mroAs,  LondoD,  W.''  The  latter's  letter  to  me,  May  37,  '84,  said :  "  The  T/.  was  eeteb.  in 
BCay,  '81 ;  is  ed.  by  Cfaaa.  Cordingley,  and  pub.  by  Cordingiey  &  Sharp  (20  pp.,  8i  by  11  in.) ;  " 
iMst  the  title-page  of  Vol.  1  reads  thus ;  "  Th*  Tricycling  J wmal  mnd  Maiatfacturert^  Adver- 
^:  the  Tricydists'  Advertiaer,  Vade  Mecum  and  Guide  to  Cycling ;  June  15  to  Dec.  7,  '81 ; 
;  pub.  by  Alfred  Gibbons,  17a  Strand."  Annouace<nent  was  made  July  15,  '85,  that  C 
Cordingley,  jr.,  had  asauroed  the  editorship;  and  I  suppose  he  succeeded  his  father  then  and 
bcU  the  place  until  Feb.,  '86.  The  ed.  of  the  Photo.  Dept  is  Caleb  B.  Smith ;  and  communi- 
cationa  with  reference  to  it  should  be  addressed  to  him  at  358  Coventry  Road,  Birmingham.  Of 
the  paper's  ao  pp.,  8  outside  and  3  or  3  inside  are  given  to  adv. ;  and  the  outer  sheet,  which 
laaa  an  engraved  heading  more  ornate  than  attractive  (though  by  no  means  as  ugly  as  the  head- 
ings of  the  Cjfciist,  Cyding  Tiimt  and  C.  T.  C.  GazeiU),  was  formerly  of  colored  paper,— blue, 
yeUow,  pink,  and  the  rest.  Much  of  its  matter  is  reprint.  The  price  has  been  3  c,  uniformly 
from  the  outset.  Tta^ar^Jattmalvi  a  nickname  often  applied  to  it  by  writera  in  other  papers. 
"  This  magazine  has  incomparably  the  largest  and  most  bona  fid*  circulation  of  any  wheel 
paper  in  die  world."  Such  is  the  legend  printed  at  the  top  of  each  advertising  page  in  the 
Mamtkiy  Gamtte  and  Official  Record  oi  the  Cyclists'  Touring  Qub  (founded  Aug.  5,  '78,  as  B. 
T.  C),  whose  31,000  members  receive  it'in  part  return  for  their  annual  dues  (63  c,  payable  be^ 
fore  Dec.  31,  besides  the  first  entrance  fee  of  35  c).  There  are  30  adv.  pp.,  of  pink  paper,  in 
the  Msue  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. 
II.,  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-'S5,  and  are  obtainable  at  6  c  each. 
The  back  numbers  of  '84-*86  may  all  be  had  for  la  c.  each,  those  of  '83  for  18  c,  of  '82  for  35  c., 
of  '81  for  50  c,  and  most  of  the  earlier  ones  for  62  c.  The  GaztUo  is  "  printed  for  and  pub- 
lisbed  under  official  authority  by  £.  R.  Shipton,  secretary  and  editor,  at  the  chief  offices  of  the 
dob,  139-140  Fleet  St.,  London."  Hbportrait  and  biography  ap'peared  in  IVheel  IVoridoi  June, 
'84,  and  in  WkteUng^  Dec  10,  '84;  and  his  reply  to  my  own  enquiry  as  to  personal  wheeling 
•tatisdcs  was  printed  thus  (Apr.,  '86,  p.  iss):  "  You  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.  V/e  understand  we  were  bom  on  the  loth  of  April — our  critics 
Batmally  believe  it  was  the  ist— «nd  that  is  enough  for  us."  His  offer  to  exchange  photographs 
with  members  of  the  club  (first  pub.  in  Sept.,  '83)  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  S^.,  '8t  (at  a  salary  of  $1250,  afterwards  raised  to  $1500),  when  I  think  the  new 
aeries  of  Ganetic  Was  begun.  For  some  time  previously,  it  had  been  issued  as  a  supplement  to 
Cyclings  whereof  his  official  predecessor,  W.  D.  Welford,  was  editor,  as  before  related.  The 
correspondence  and  editorials  of  the  Gattetto  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  ail  sudi  tourists,  as  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  Gaacites  of  '84-5,  even  if  it  cannot  afford  a  complete  set  of  the  earlier  vols. 

Such  libraries  should  also  secure  the  present  series  of  Wheel  World  {^  to  56  pp.,  12  c),  "  the 
only  illost.  monthly  mag.  of  cycling,'*  for  the  Iliifes  offer  its  bound  vols.,  cloth  and  gilt,  at  $2  each 
— ^he  ist,  from  July,  '83,  to  June,  '84,  "  containing  600  pp.,  13  full-page  portraits,  and  numerous 
■nailer  pictures  "  ;  and  the  ad„from  July,  '84,  to  June,  '85,  "  containing  558  pp.,  13  portraits, 
13  cyding  scenes  and  13  hill  sections."  The  third  year  of  the  series,  ending  with  July,  '86,  has 
been  divided  into  seroi«annual  vols.,  "  3  "  and  "  4,"  whose  price,  bound,  I  do  not  know.  They 
have  a  pa^  of  the  same  size  as  Otdtng**,  and  a  (»ver  whose  design  differs  from  that  of  the  two 
previona  years,  when  the  page  was  ^  in.  wider.  Both  covers  were  drawn  by  Geo.  Moore,  as  well 
■a  neariy  all  the  picturea.    He  also  supplied  most  or  all  of  the  17  cartoons  which  decorated 


692  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

IVkeelLifii  and  the  Iliffes  offered  (Nov.,  '85)  the  bcwndTol.  oC  this  (boards  and  cloth  I 
38S  pp.)  for  94  c.  They  offered  for  $a.8o  each  the  ad  and  3d  vols,  of  TrieycUsi,  for  years  end- 
ing July,  *84,  and  July,  '85,  bound  in  cloth  and  gilt,  790  pp.  each ;  also,  in  same  style,  for  |i.94» 
the  sth  vol.  of  Cyciisit  for  year  ending  OcL,  '84,  1000  pp.  I  presume  that  the  6ch  vol.  is  pn^ 
curable  at  the  same  rate,  and  that  all  these  journals  are  provided  with  title-pages  and  alpbabei- 
ical  lists  of  contents,  the  same  as  the  Whtei  Worlds  and  the  semi-annual  vols,  of  H^httii^. 
No  names  of  eds.  have  been  printed  with  the  monthly  issues  of  W.  W.^\  think,  and  none  ap- 
peared upon  the  title-page  of  Vol.  3,  whose  ed.  was  really  H.  A.  Judd ;  though  the  title-p^ges 
of  the  a  previous  vols,  said:  "  Edited  by  H.  Sturmey  &  C.  W.  Nairn."  I  have  nerver  seen  a 
copy  of  W.  lV.*s  first  series,  under  H.  Etherington  and  G.  L.  Hillier,  but  suppose  it  began  'm 
July,  '80  (see  p.  548),  and  had  a  smaller  page  and  a  more  free-and-easy  style.  Such,  at  leasx, 
are  the  characteristics  of  the  JV.  iy.*s  "  Christmas  annual  of  '80,"  a  shilling  8vo,  called 
"  Icycles,"  with  advertisements  sandwiched  thickly  among  its  224  pp.  of  paragraphs  and  a 
and  rough  wood-cuts.  As  to  the  present  series  of  JV.  IV. ,  judging  from  the  half-dozen  1 
mens  which  have  come  to  me,  I  should  say  that  its  lithographs  and  smaller  pictures  are  £5- 
tinctly  inferior  to  the  best  of  the  illustrations  which  adorned  the  15  numbers  of  Boston's  Wheei- 
man  (*82-3) ;  that  its  typography  is  less  elegant,  though  clearer  than  that  of  any  other  Eng^ah 
trade-journal ;  and  that  its  average  literary  quality  is,  at  best,  no  higher  than  the  Wheeimam^x. 
In  London,  as  in  Boston,  the  editor  of  such  an  affair  has  a  hard  struggle  to  get  enough  saitafate 
material  from  amateurs,  and  is  constantly  tempted  to  admit  their  *'  love  stories,"  ''poetry"  «id 
other  trash,  no  matter  how  forced  or  flimsy  its  pretended  relationship  to  "  the  wheel."  I  am 
afraid,  too,  that  IV.  W.  sometimes  fails  to  accredit  the  original  source  of  reprinted  articles;  ami 
I  dm  testify  that  my  own  contributions  to  it  have  been  carefully  '*  edited  from  Coventry,"  to 
the  extent  of  printing  "  cycling  "  in  place  of  "  wheeling  "  which  I  wrote, — ^lest  the  appearance 
of  that  word  should  help  to  advertise  the  hated  weekly.  Wheeling,  With  adl  its  foults,  how- 
ever, I  should  say  that  W.  W.  offers  an  American  a  smaller  proportion  kA  matter  necessarily 
uninteresting  to  him,  because  of  its  merely  personal  and  local  significance,  than  any  of  the 
weekly  trade-circulars ;  and  I  should  recommend  him  to  spend  $1.50  for  it  rather  than  ^3  for  a 
weekly.  I  do  not  think,  though,  that  W.  W.  is  worth  twice  as  much  to  him  as  the  Gmutte 
which  he  can  secure  by'paying  75  c.  to  the  C.  T.  C. 

"  The  Cyclist  and  Wheel  World  AnnvaX  "  (Iliffes,  Jan.,  '84 ;  demy  8vo,  250  pp.,  30  c  ;  ed. 
by  C.  W.  Nairn  and  H.  Sturmey)  was  said  to  contain  "  the  fullest  statistical  informatioQ  coo- 
ceming  the  racing  of  the  past  season  ;  and  over  500  illust.  of  the  clubs  of  the  world  and  their 
badges.''  It  was  out  of  print  in  Dec,  when  a  similar  book  was  announced  in  press  for  Jaa.« 
'85.  Perhaps  another  appeared  in  '86;  and  there  may  have  been  earlier  eds.,  as  a  sort  of  001^ 
tinuation  of  the  **  Bicycle  Annual,"  put  forth  by  the  same  Mr.  N.  from  the  Bi.  Times  oflke,  '77 
to  '79  or  later.  In  another  sense,  those  supposed  earlier  eds.  may  have  been  al  substitute  for  the 
W.  WJ*s  Christmas  "  Icycles,"  whereof  a  second  issue  possibly  appeared  in  '81.  I  prcsnme 
that  nearly  all  the  other  trade-circulars,  living  and  dead,  have  habitually  offered  "  special  feat- 
ures "  at  (Christmas  time,  after  the  custom  of  English  weeklies  in  general ;  but  I  think  no  pre- 
vious issue  approached  in  elaborateness  "  Our  Camp,  the  '84  Christmas  Number  of  the  Cyciist " 
(8a  pp.  and  57  adv.  pp.,  30  c),  with  ornate  cover,  lithographed  in  gilt  and  colors,  three  double- 
page  cartoon  supplements  (portraying  Tacers,  legislators  and  exhibitors;  "see  key  in  W.  W. 
for  Jan.  '*),  and  86  smaller  cuts,  drawn  by  G.  Moore.  This  seems  to  have  been  a  great  soccen. 
for  the  copy  which  came  to  me  in  Mar.  was  marked  "  3d  ed."  The  similar  issue  for  ^85  was 
called  "  The  Great  S  ,  or,  A  Journey  through  Cyclonia  "  (98  pp.  and  6x  adv.  pp.— the 

latter  of  greenish  paper,  scattered  throughout  the  book  and  cheapening  its  appearance),  whose 
adv.  says  :  "  The  illust.  are  far  in  advance  of  anything  ever  before  attempted ;  the  invenim 
genius  of  the  authors  being  splendidly  carried  into  effect  by  the  facile  pencil  of  G.  Moore,  who 
supplies  14  full  page  lithographs,  comically  depicting  all  manner  of  cycling  episodes,  and  many 
smaller  illust.,  including  43  portraits  of  typical  racing  cyclists,  introduced  as  center-pieces  of  43 
medals  of  different  designs.  The  text  abounds  in  wit,  humor,  fun,  satire,  in  both  prose  and 
yerse ;  and  there  are  two  original  cycling  songs  set  to  music,  either  of  whidi  i&  akme  worth  noi* 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  693 

tlftsm  the  cost  of  the  book,  while  '  Fiidkkl't  Comic  Kalendar  for  '86 '  most  not  be  missed  by 
anybody  fond  of  a  hearty  laugh."  The  joint  authors  of  these  two  annuals  are  A.  J.  Wilson  and 
A^  G.  Morrison  (see  p.  534),  who  say  that  '*  no  previous  attempt  had  been  made  to  raise  such 
pubs,  out  of  the  region  of  scrappy  amateur  literature,  and  give  a  connected  narrative  dealing 
-with  the  various  phases  of  cycling.  All  the  detached  contributions  to  this  have  been  signed  by 
tlieir  respective  writers,  as  follows:  'Auphside  Crank,'  'Junius  Junior,'  F.  P.  Low,  'Kris 
Marlowe,'  '  P.  B.'  and  '  Frank  Severn.'  "  Accepting  their  work,  therefore,  as  the  best  speci- 
men of  "  funny  business"  which  the  printing-press  of  the  cycling  trade  in  England  has  been 
able  to  produce,  it  has  a  sort  of  independent  value  to  the  American  student  of  social  science,  as 
a  sign  of  the  intellectual  ideal  possessed  by  the  class  of  people  among  whom  it  is  popular. 
The  pp.  are  of  same  size  as  Cyciist^s  <8  by  11  in.),  though  numbered  separately ;  and  the  sale  of 
such  laiige  and  expensive  books  for  a  shilling,  like  the  sale  of  the  weekly  Cyclist  for  a  penny, 
would  not  be  possible  except  for  the  vast  bulk  of  tradesmen's  handbilb  attached  thereto. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  "  JVketliMg'  Annual  for  '85-6,"  same  price,  whose  typography 
and  size  of  page  (9  by  13  in.)  correspond  to  the  weekly  issue,  ,and  whose  tables  of  racing  records 
are  lifted  therefrom,  with  chronology  and  other  statistical  matter.  A  half-dozen  lithograj^ed 
pp.,  showing  30  portraits  of  wheelmen,  are  the  notable  feature  of  this  annual,  though  iu  cover  is 
called  "  the  most  elegant  ever  produced  in  connection  with  the  sport,  by  an  American  artist." 
The  likenesses  include  those  of  the  following  press-men  :  H.  Etherington  and  W.  McWilliam, 
of  Wketlmg;  T.  Moore, of  Tru  Journal;  G.  L.  Hillier,  of  BL  News;  C.  W.  Nairn,  of  Ov/w/, 
«*  the  best-hearted  rider  in  England  "  ;  C.  J.  Fox,  of  Cycling  Tinus;  C.  H.  Larette,  of  Alhlttic 
News;  G.  Atkinson,  of  Spertistg Life ;  and  H.  E.  Ducker,  of  Wheelmen* s  Gaaette  ;  also  17 
English  racers,  and  these  4  Americans  :  G.  M.  Hendee,  E.  P.  Bumham,  Dan  Canary  and  J.  S. 
prince.  IVkeeling^s  first  "  Annual "  (Nov.,  '84, 15  c)  was  adv.  as  "  the  best  wheel  Xmas  no. 
ever  pub. ;  $400  value  in  prizes  given  away  to  holders  of  its  coupons,"  and  had  no  less  than  170 
titles  of  sketches,  poems  and  essays.  I  suppose  these  were  of  the  sort  which  the  eds.  of  the 
IlifEes'  rival  annual  stigmatize  as  "  scrappy  amateur  literature  " ;  and,  though  the  collection  had 
a  very  huge  sale  (helped  perhaps  by  the  trick  of  stealing  a  month's  march  on  "  Our  Camp,"  in 
respect  to  priority  of  publication),  the  success  of  the  latter  no  doubt  decided  H.  E.  against  making 
another  resort  to  the  scrap-basket,  and  led  him  to  base  his  second  "  Annual "  on  the  lithogra- 
pher's stone  instead.  A  third  issue  of  some  sort  may  be  expected  in  due  time,  as  shown  by  the 
following  "notice,"  enclosed  with  WkeeltMg  of  July  14,  '86,  in  place  of  the  promised  "art 
supplement":  "  We  have  to  daim  the  indulgence  of  our  subscribers  in  connection  with  this 
matter.  We  find  that  the  supply  of  old  plates  worthy  of  reproduction  has  come  to  an  end,  and 
at  the  same  time  we  doubt  whether  our  readers  would  enjoy  a  constant  supply  of  the  same  thing. 
Portraits  of  well-known  wheelmen  are  played  out,  the  line  having  been  done  to  death,  and  pic- 
torial cartoons  depicting  nothing  in  particular,  and  that  as  through  a  glass  dimly,  we  cannot 
patronize.  We  are  consequently  at  our  wits'  end,  and  propose  to  dispense  with  the  supplements 
in  future,  and  shall,  in  order  to  compensate  them  for  any  disappointment,  place  all  our  subscrib- 
ers on  the  free  list  of  our  Christmas  Number.  Should  any  subscriber  demur  or  feel  aggrieved 
at  this  arrangement,  we  shall  be  happy  to  return  him  the  balance  of  his  subscription  upon  hear- 
ing from  him."  This  amusing  revelation  of  the  hard  struggle  which  the  London  editors  have, 
in  trying  to  outbid  each  other  with  "  new  and  attractive  features,"  alludes  to  Wheeling's  offer 
of  a  monthly  picture  for  each  mail-eubscriber,  but  not  for  casual  purchasers  at  the  stands.  Four 
of  these  supplements  were  reprints  of  cartoons  concerning  the  bone-shaker  of  1819 ;  and  a  fifth 
was  the  "IT^Km/mi^  Waltz,  by  H.  £."  (is  pp.,  zo  by  14  in.,  soc  if  bought  of  B.  Williams,  19 
Paternoster  Row),  "  dedicated  to  the  C  T.  C,  L.  A.  W.,  and  N.  C.  U."  At  the  end  of  '84, 
i^AM^^hadan  advertiser  of  la  pp.,  with  12  pp.  of  reading  matter  inside;  a  year  later,  the 
adv.  had  grown  to  as  pp. ;  and  since  then,  under  H.  E.'s  undivided  attention,  it  has  regulariy 
had  3a  pp.  (with  14  pp.  of  reading),  and  on  one  spedal  occasion  went  up  to  60  pp.  The  pub- 
lished rate  per  page  is  $so,  and  the  circulation  10,000  copies.  The  Cyclist  asks  the  same  rate, 
and  claims  a  "  circulation  of  30,000  per  month,  or  more  than  that  of  all  other  cycling  journals 
amtined."    In  June,  '84*  it  reguUrly  had  35  to  40  adv.  pp. ,  and  I  do  not  know  that  Wheelings 


694         ^^^  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

racee«  faas  reduced  their  number.  The  C.  T.  C.  GaaMt  tsys,  loftily  (Feb.,  *86,  p.  43): 
"  There  are  papers  which  exist  solely  by  reason  of  the  nusrepreseniation  and  effrontery  oi  tinv 
proprietors,  but  no  one  has  yet  had  the  courage  to  pomt  to  them  by  name.  The  leaaoe  is 
obvioua-^he  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  kw  suit  with  nnscmpinloiis  aad  penn. 
less  opponents.  We  shall,  however,  be  much  mistaken  if  the  present  enquiry— suppleiDented 
by  revelations  which  are  to  follow— docs  not  exhibit  a  hopelessly  rotten  state  of  a&irs  in  cjrcfiDg 
journalism.  Whatever  may  be  the  result,  however,  the  G^uHU  will  be  afEected  not  a  tittkL  k 
has  a  bona  fid*  distribution  at  the  present  moment  of  over  21,000,  a  number  which  ccmplririy 
swamps  any  of  its  compeers,  and  we  can,  therefore,  await  the  verdict  with  equanianty."  hk 
there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  31,000  members  of  C.  T.  C,  the  CyeUata  estimate  would  kate 
only  9cx)o  a  month  for  its  four  weekly  competitors  and  W.  ff^.,  or  any  an  average  drcolatioB  for 
each  of  about  500  copies  1    Perhaps,  though,  it  refuses  to  class  the  CametU  as  a  "  ioamaL" 

The  present  editors  of  Whetlimg  announced,  in  taking  control  (Jan.  13,  '86),  that  the  pro- 
prietor had  o£Fered  the  position  of  joint  ed.  to  each  of  them,  in  sucoessioQ,  15  noontfas  earfier; 
that  they  joined  the  Iliffes'  Wheel  Life  adventure,  in  the  belief  that  it  offered  a  better  dsaaec 
of  stability;  that,  after  the  failure  of  this,  their  portions  on  the  Bi.  Newt  were  ncrt  altogcAer 
agreeable ;  that,  as  Wkeelinf  had  meantime  become  an  established  success,  they  accepted  its 
owner's  second  proposal  to  take  it  in  hand  (their  satirical  attacks  upon  him  having  been  under- 
stood, on  both  sides,  to  be  "  mere  matters  of  business") ;  that  then-  exodus  from  the  "Coventry 
ring  "  was  attended  with  the  utmost  good  feeling  on  the  part  of  every  one  except  Lacy  HilEier; 
and  that  they  hoped  hereafter  to  "  act  in  friendly  concert  with  the  Cycliei  and  BL  Neros  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,  pillory,  and  pek  to  dK 
best  of  our  ability  the  bad  form,  bad  English,  bad  blood,  and  bod  faith  which,  we  nnheaitalinglf 
state,  must,  in  the  long  run,  if  allowed  to  flourish  unchecked  as  though  tacitly  aoqmesoed  in, 
make  cycling  a  sport  which  no  man  with  the  slightest  pretensions  to  the  description  of  '  genie' 
can  allow  his  name  to  be  connected  with.  The  abuses  of  wheel  life  shall  feel  the  lash  if  the  rif^ 
hands  of  the  Bieyeling  //ewsmem  have  not  lost  the  cunning  enabling  them  to  carl  the  quivering 
thong  with  a  hiss  in  the  all-too-deserving  flesh— «  bloodthirsty  sentence,  but  the  hopes  of  cycEng 
salvation  lie  in  the  application  of  the  lancet,  and  why  should  physicians  hesitate?"  The 
writer  of  these  curious  phrases  seems  not  to  have  accepted  the  peaceful  oveituies  of  his  fcnner 
associates,  for  they  say  of  him  {Wheelings  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  omr  contemporaries,  and  close  the  long-standing  war,  we  most,  of 
course,  baited  as  we  are  by  semi-authorized  touts,  and  sneered  at  as  '  sham  cycUsts,*  etc,  carry 
out  a  policy  of  reprisals,  though  it  is  distinctly  not  our  wish  to  do  so.  Hence  we  may  meniioa 
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  selling  eggs  in  the  good  town  of 
Chichester,  where  he  was  not  thought  to  be  neariy  so  big  a  gun  as  he  has  educated  the  pabBc 
hereaway  to  consider  him."  Again  (June  39,  '86,  p.  165):  "This  embodiment  of  egregioai 
vanity,  who,  because  he  won  championships  in  a  second-rate  yeau-,  continually,  and  yean  after, 
thrusts  the  fact  down  our  throats,  thought  proper  to  refer  to  the  private  affaire  of  a  set  of  men 
who  chose  to  remain  in  their  hotel  instead  of  swaggering  about  Weston  and  playing  the  cheap 
showman.  Because  a  few  men  chose  to  play  cards  with  their  own  money  in  their  own  apart- 
ments, and  to  bet  among  themselves  about  the  results  of  the  radng.  Sir  Pecksniff,  who  earas 
part  of  his  living  on  the  Stock  Exchange  where  the  widow  and  the  orphan  fall  victims  to  tbe 
•  bull '  and  the  *  bear,'  publicly  raises  his  hands,  and  thanks  high  heaven  that  he  is  not  as  thoe 
men  are."  Still  further  (July  14,  '86 ;  p.  aro) :  "  We,  on  this  paper,  do  not,  we  hope,  pnrfe* 
much.  We  were  n't  champions  in  »8i,  and  we  're  only  ordinary  people  in  '86u  We  don't  ind 
if  other  people  please  themselves  as  to  how  they  spend  their  leisure  time  and  spare  money,  bat 
at  the  same  time  we  don't  run  out  a  platform  from  the  window  of  a  stockbroker's  office  and  ds- 
noonoe  gambling,  nor  do  we  jfrint  without  protest  advwrtiiaaMnto  which  we  Mid  aU  *•  tnrid 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  695 

know  to  be  mtnie.  We  learve  that  to  the  practical,  the  pure,  and  the  PecksiufiSan/'  A  week 
ktter(p.  346),  Whtriii^  reprinted  the  following  commentary  on  this  sort  of  talk,  from  a  letter 
in  Lmmdamd  WaUrt  **  For  acrimony  and  bitterness,  commend  me  to  q^clists.  The  q)ecial 
p««88  which  represents  their  interests  is  probably  the  smartest  and  most  personal  manipulation 
the  spirit  of  joumalism  has  assumed  as  yet  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  The  various  papers— 
and  their  number  is  as  great  as  their  lives  are  short — positively  live  upon  each  other's  short-com- 
ings. The  kingdom  of  the  cyclist  is  one  of  unending  dvil  war,  and  its  various  generals,  to  judge 
them  out  of  their  own  mouths,  interestingly  eccentric  individuals."  Similar  was  the  condemna- 
tion uttered  in  C.  T.  C.  Gaaette  (Mar.,  »86),  by  J.  R.  Hogg,  who  watched  the  rivals  of  the 
"  Coventry  ring  "  and  the  "  IfOfar/m^crew  "  at  the  N.  C.  U.  meeting,  where  he  attempted  to 
have  the  amateur  definition  abolished :  "  The  state  of  amateurism  may  be  bad ;  but  the  state  of 
a£Eairs  between  the  newspapers  is  contemptible  and  disgusting.  *'  As  Wheeling  has  chanced  to 
make  a  happy  hit  in  favoring  America  (see  p.  547),  the  Bl  Newt  goes  to  the  other  extreme  and 
courts  tory  popularity  by  speaking  with  hostility  and  ridicule  of  this  country.  As  all  the  other 
editors  have  subscribed  for  this  book  of  mine,  and  have  commended  the  "  international  '*  quality 
ol  it,  and  as  Wheelh^  has  taken  the  lead  in  drumming  up  English  subscribers  for  me,  the  BL 
N'enu  has  held  aloof  with  disdain,  sneering  at  the  scheme  as  a  catchpenny  trick  of  a  tiresome 
Yankee  adventurer,  who  probably  carries  dynamite  in  his  pockets,  If  the  truth  could  be  known. 
As  IVhe^ing  likes  to  pose  for  a  "  friend  of  democracy  and  equal  rights,"  so  it  likes  to  taunt  the 
BL  News  as  a  "  toady  to  the  Established  Church  and  the  aristocracy."  This  fact  (like  the 
carious  interest  which  C.  T.  C.  officers  show  in  getting  a  few  pence  knocked  off  from  country 
tavern  bills)  seems  to  me  a  significant  token  that  the  "  heavy  swells  "  of  England  have  thus  far 
given  very  little  recognition  to  cycling.  Americans  of  that  stripe  have  certainly  had  nothing  to 
do  with  it  yet,  though  they  are  very  quick  to  imitate  the  fashions  of  their  London  originals. 
What  I  have  sud  on  p.  446  et  seq.^  about  the  phenomenal  obtrusiveness  of  the  struggle  to  "  get 
on  '*  in  England,  could  have  no  more  perfect  illustration  than  is  given  by  its  cycling  journalism. 

"The oflidal  organ  of  the  Irish  Cyclists*  Association  "  is  the  Irish  Cyciut  and  Athlete, 
**  a  fortnightly  record  of  the  sport  and  trade  of  bicycling  and  tricycling,  edited  in  Dublin  and  the 
provinces."  It  is  pub.  on  alternate  Wednesdays  by  J.  G.  Hodgins,  of  Tralee  (4  c.  or  $1.35), 
and  dates  from  May  so,  '85.  The  second  half  of  the  title  was  assumed  later  than  the  4th  ntun- 
ber,  whidi  is  the  only  specimen  that  has  reached  me,  and  which  consists  of  16  pp.,  8  by  ir  in., 
half  given  to  adv.  Its  editor's  address  is  40  Lower  Sackville  st,  Dublin;  and  I  learn  from 
I^A«ri!Mt^f  congratulatory  remark  about  the  "sixpenny  Christmas  number"  that  his  name  is 
R.  J.  McCredy.  The  Irish  Cycling^  Athletic  Journal  (begun  at  Dublin  in  Nov.  ,'85)  I  presume 
n  a  penny  weekly ;  and  I  find  in  Wheeling  of  Aug.  4,  *86,  an  allusion  to  Irish  Cyclop  A* 
Aihletie  News,  though  whether  this  is  an  old  or  new  rival  to  the  Journal,  or  a  successor  of  it, 
I  do  not  know.  Older  than  either  of  these  is  Sport  (2  c),  pub.  Saturdays,  at  83  Middle  Abbey 
St.,  Dublin.  The  Scottish  Umpire  &*  Cycling  Mercury  (3  c),  pub.  Wednesdays  by  Hay, 
Nisbet  &  Co.,  at  Stockwell  St.,  Glasgow,  calls  itself  "the  best  adv.  medium  in  Scotland  for  the 
trade,'*  and  allows  about  a  quarter  of  its  space  to  wheel  matters  ;  while  the  Scottish  Athletic 
/otemal%vm  them  much  less  prominence.  Sports  6*  /^Sar^  (begun  Feb.,  *S6,  at  159  Edmuiid 
St. ,  Birmingham)  was  welcomed  by  Wheeling  as  far  superior  to  the  long-named  Star  which 
made  a  vain  appeal  to  the  cyclers  of  that  town,  some  years  ago.  Illustrated  Sports  is  adv.  as 
*'  the  largest  and  cheapest  illust.  sporting  monthly  "  (a  c),  being  a  sort  of  elaborate  circular  for 
proclaiming  the  goods  of  Goy,  21  Leadenhall  St.,  London  ;  and  the  numerous  sporting  weeklies 
of  that  city  of  course  "  recognize  "  the  wheel,  after  their  several  fashions. 

"  Under  the  Southern  Cross"  was  the  title  of  an  article,  by  Thomas  A.  Edwards,  of  Mel- 
boome,  Vict.  {Wheelman,  Feb.,  '84,  pp.  355-8),  which  first  gave  Americans  a  clear  idea  of 
wheeling  affairs  on  the  island-continent  beyond  the  Pacific,  though  E.  H.  Bum  had  preriousl^ 
(old  something  about  the  wheel  in  New  Zealand  (Aug.,  '83,  p.  333).  Mr.  E.  was  the  editor  of 
the  earliest  paper,  the  Bicycle  (8  pp.),  which  appeared  on  18  alternate  Fridays,  Jan.  19  to  Sept. 
14,  '89,  and  then  gave  way  to  the  Australian  Bicycling  News  (13  pp.),  which  had  been  pub.  on 
i  Fridays,  beginiiing  with  May  11,  and-  which  has  continued  ever  moce  as  a  fortnightly. 


696  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

The  "  3V  was  cut  froni  its  title,  however,  Aug.  16,  '83,  when  a  new  series  was  begun  (16  ppt), 
and  a  transfer  of  ownership  made  from  "  the  A.  B.  N.  Co."  to  W,  H.  Lewris,  whose  name  has 
ever  since  stood  at  the  head  as  editor.     His  predecessor  was  not  announoed,  but  was  gcaecalir 
supposed  to  be  )^,C  Bagot,  local  agent  for  the  Coventry  firm  of  Singer  &  Co.    The  beading  says : 
"An  impartial  organ  of  the  sport,  the  pastime  and  the  trade ;  subscribed  to  by  cydista  thraqgb. 
out  the  Australian  colonies,  and  circulating  largely  in  all  up-oountry  towns  of  any  sbe ;  dii^ 
tributed  gratis  to  the  principal  libraries,  reading-rooms,  hotels,  etc,  throughout  the  1 
The  price  is  6  c.  a  copy  or  $1.87  a  year  to  any  part  of  Victoria ;  %a  a  year  elsewhere.    The  1 
iiig  exhibiu  three  groups  of  cyclers,  and  is  followed  by  adv.,  to  which  5  or  6  Utter  pp.  are  ] 
(8  X  II  in.),  the  rates  per  year,  9  mos.,  6  mos.  and  3  mos.  being  as  fdlows :  ^50 ;  ;(2oo,  $150  and 
$90;  I  p.  for  similar  periods  :  $150,  $125,  $90  and  $50;  \  p.  for  simiiar  periods;  $79,  ^65,  I47 
and  $25.     H.  R.  Reynolds's  London  tract  on  "  Road  Repairs ''  (4  pp.,  85th  thousand),  whh  a 
special  heading  "  To  Victorian  Rate-payers,"  was  circulated  as  a  supplement  to  the  Ntvn  of 
Feb.  13,  '86,— its  editor  having  become  a  candidate  for  the  vacancy  in  the  Melbourne  Cj^ 
Council, — and  the  issue  of  May  22  contained  a  call  from  the  "  cyclists'  committee,  fonaed  to 
improve  the  opportunity  to  make  a  bid  for  themselves,  and  cause  their  influence  to  be  f^  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  News  is  printed  by  C.  Troedel  &  Ca, 
and  its  office  is  at  47  Queen  st.    The  Melbaume  BuUettM^  the  AMairaUtsian,  and  the  S/ertsmam 
each  have  a  weekly  department  of  cycling, — *'  Ollapod  "  (T.  A.  Edwards)  having  contiiboled 
2  or  3  columns  of  matter  to  each  issue  of  the  former  since  the  autumn  of  '82.     '*  The  AustialiaB 
Cyclists'  Annual,"  by  J.  P.  Russell  (Melbourne,  Dec,  '83  ;  60  pp.,  25 c)  was  mildly  n 
as  "  the  pioneer  book  from  that  region,  of  use  and  interest  to  beginners  "  by  Cjfclisi,  Ja 
'84 ;  but  a  local  writer  calls  it  "  too  English ;  for  it  lacks  to  a  distressing  extent  in  infi 
pertaining  to  the  wheel  in  Australia."  Australian  Shorts  and  Pastimes,  "edited  by  H.  Stewait 
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.  Thornfeldt ;  printed  at  the  News  &*  Chronicle  office,  Main  st. ,  Stawell.'* 
is  the  heading  attached  to  a  half-dozen  single  sheets,  varying  in  size  and  undated,  whidi  csme 
to  me  by  Australian  mail  of  Aug.  16,  '86,  and  which  were  printed,  on  one  side  only,  from  oolumss 
of  type  used  in  six  successive  usues  of  that  paper.    Tlie  author,  aged  about  50,  rode  a  tii,  aad 
his  comrade  (C.  H.  Lyne,  of  Ararat),  a  hi.;  and  the  time  of  their  tour  was  Mar.  S  to  34,  '86. 
Though  longer  rides  have  been  taken  in  Australia,  I  think  no  other  has  been  reported  at  sodi 
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  liatt 
of  officers  and  members,  and  also  touring  records  of  the  latter  and  too  m.  runs.     New  South 
Wales  was  briefly  represented  in  the  field  of  cycling  journalism  by  7  issues  of  the  Amsiraliam 
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,  oor.  Rediem 
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"  (la  pp.,  6  c),  m\aA 
has  been  pub.  at  Christchurch,  on  Fridays,  since  May,  '84,  with  a  regular  column  for  cydii^ 
Africa's  sole  contribution  to  my  chapter  takes  the  shape  of  this  extract  from  Wkeetimg  (Nov. 
8,  '85) :    "  I  have  been  reading  in  a  Cape  Town  paper  a  report  of  a  ride  by  two  memben  ol  the 
Cape  Town  B.  C,  from  their  city  to  Port  Elizabeth.    They  found  poor  roads  but  soeaeiy 
magnificent  beyond  description.    They  kept  a  diary  and  intend  publishing  a  detailed  1 
in  book  form.    This  will  follow  somewhat  the  lines  of  Charles  Hubbard's  interesting  a 
of  a  ride  over  the  same  route."    [The  A .  C.  News  ceased  pub.  Sept.  25,'86.    Sec  ppb  558, 653.J 

CONTINKNTAL  PUBLICATIONS. 

Of  all  the  cycling  prints  outside  the  E^iglish  Unguage,  the  most  important  by  far  is  the  Red' 
fakrer  (begun  July,  '81;    16  to  ao  pp.  and  13  4o  16  adv.  pp.,  8  by  io|  in.,  seminnonthly,  %s\ 


LITERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  697 

whoae  goanoteed  circulation  is  announced  at  the  head  of  each  issue.  That  of  July,  '86,  with 
lull-page  picture  of  the  French  racers,  Duncan,  De  Civry  and  Dubois,  was  6900  copies,  whereof 
6371  went  to  members  of  the  Deutchcr  Radfahrer-Bund  (German  Wheelmen's  Union),  whose 
official  organ  it  is,  and  whose  memberst^p  is  said  to  increase  300  a  month.  The  paper  of  June 
I,  '85,  which  is  the  latest  one  reaching  me,  had  an  ed.  of  4400 ;  that  of  Feb.  i,  3500,  and  even 
the  latter  was  said  to  "  exceed  the  combined  circulation  of  all  the  other  sporting  sheets  on  the 
continent.''  The  paper  made  40  monthly  issues  as  the  Velocipedij^xA^t  ending  with  Dec,  '84, 
and  assumed  its  present  name  on  becoming  an  organ,  Jan.  i.'Ss.  It  has  been  ed.  and  pub.  from 
the  first  at  18  Krausen  St.,  Berlin,  by  T.  H.  S.  Walker,  CorfSul  C  T.  C,  whose  letters  to  me 
are  fluently  written  in  English,  and  whom  I  take  to  be  an  Englishman.  He  has  also  sent  me 
•*  Velodpedisten-Jahrbuch,  1884 "  (pp.  160,  4  by  6  in.,  4I  oz.,  cloth,  40  c),  whose  first  76  pp.  are 
ruled  in  blank  for  the  keeping  of  a  wheeling  diary,  and  whose  20  adv.  pp.  are  scattered  among 
the  statistics  which  follow.  These  show  the  names,  dates  and  officers  of  clubs  (alphabetized  by 
towns),  not  only  in  Germany  and  Austria,  but  in  Denmark,  Holland,  Norway,  Switzerland  and 
many  other  countries, — though  the  clubs  of  Eng.  and  the  U.  S.  are  called  "  too  numerous  for 
mention."  There  are  officers'  names  of  (?erman  and  foreign  Unions,  with  histories ;  German 
ladng  records  and  road-routes ;  a  tabulated  glossary  of  cycling  terms  in  English,  French  and 
German ;  a  list  of  German  wheel  literature ;  and  a  few  short  sketches  of  a  humorous  sort,  in 
prose  and  verse.  The  ist  ed.  was  for  '83  and  had  the  same  name  ;  the  3d  and  4th  eds.,  for  '85 
and  '86  (25  c),  have  been  called  "  Radfahrer's  Jahrbuch."  All  four  of  these  annuals  contain 
the  diary-blanks  and  are  otherwise  similar  in  contents  but  not  identical.  The  fifth,  for  '87,  will 
appear  in  Dec  An  official  "  Handbook  for  Wheelmen  along  the  Rhine  "  (Bonn :  A.  Kemmann ; 
40  c),  containing  38  touring  routes,  and  many  statistics  about  clubs,  repair-shops  and  hotels,  was 
welcomed  in  the  Ra4fahrer  of  June  i,  '85 ;  and  I  judge  it  to  be  of  about  the  size  and  shape  of 
the  "yearbook,"  just  described.  The  latter's  "literature  list"  mentions  three  other  such 
books,  and  three  papers  besides  the  Rad/ahreri  thus :  "  Bundes-Almanach,"  pub.  each  Dec. 
by  the  German  and  German- Austrian  Cycling  Union  (Munich  :  4  Quai  St.),  at  25  c  to  members 
who  subscribe  in  advance,  37  c  to  members  who  purchase,  and  50  c  to  non-members ;  "  Hand- 
buch  des  Bicycle-Sport,"  by  Victor  Silberer  and  Geo.  Ernst  (many  illust. ;  $1.35),  describing 
in  detail  the  parts  of  the  bicycle,  with  hints  on  learning  to  ride,  and  an  essay  on  training ;  and 
"  Bicyde-Buch,"  by  Victor  Silberer,  pub.  each  Mar.  (club  lists  and  Union  statistics,  $x).  The 
two  latter  are  issued  from  the  office  of  the  AUgenuitu  SpcrUZeiiuMg{y\txi'oz. :  17  Elizabeth  St.), 
whereof  Mr.  Silberer  is  editor.  This  was  started  in  '80,  has  20  to  24  pp.,  appears  every  Thurs- 
day, is  the  offidal  organ  of  many  sporting  assodations  and  costs  $7.50  a  year.  The  (German 
and  German-Austrian  Cycling  Union  (founded  May  29,  '82)  began  to  pub.  early  in  '83,  the 
Velocipedist  (Munich  :  4  Quai  st. ;  monthly,  la  pp.,  $1.10  to  non-members),  under  the  editor- 
ship of  Carl  Langer.  The  editor  was  to  be  elected  yearly,  and  the  paper  was  sent  free  to  each 
member.  This  arrangement  probably  lasted  till  the  end  of  '84,  when  the  "  organship  "  was 
given  to  the  Radfakrert  which  had  previously  been  "  organ  of  the  North  German  Cycling 
Union  (founded  Oct.  22,  '82),"  though  not  in  the  sense  of  having  each  member  for  a  sub- 
scriber. Perhaps  the  Veloc^dist  still  flourishes,  on  a  private  basis,  as  its  issue  of  Jan.  i ,  '85 
(No.  I  of  vol.  3,  8  pp.,  9  by  12  in.,  $1.25),  now  lying  before  me,  says  :  "  pub.  semi-monthly  at  28 
Fraunhofer  St.,  Munich;  F.  M.  Rittinger,  editor."  Of  similar  shape,  but  better  printed  and 
having  20  pp.  (the  last  4  pp.  being  adv.,  as  in  the  previous  case),  is  No.  i,  or  "  trial  number," 
of  the  V4locipe€bportt  dated  Mar.  25,  '85,  at  Berlin,  and  promising  to  appear  on  the  loth  and 
aSth  of  each  month,  at  $1.50.  It  'is  called  "  independent  organ  of  the  hi.  and  tri.  sports  inter- 
est, at  home  and  abroad  " ;  gives  no  name  of  editor  or  publisher,  but  is  "  printed  at  30  Ross  St., 
in  behalf  of  A.  Paritschke."  Later  numbers  may  have  been  issued,  but  I  hardly  suppose  the 
paper  is  living  now.  It  had  an  earlier  existence  at  Strassburg  (32  Alter  Fischmarkt ;  8  pp.,  semi- 
monthly, $1.50),  beginning  in  Oct.,  '83,  and  lasting  about  a  year.  All  these  (krman  journals 
have  their  headings  illuminated  by  pictures  of  wheelmen,  but  none  of  them  seem  as  well  drawn 
as  the  title-vignette  of  the  Hungarian  "  CyklUta,,  organ  of  the  Cesky  Klub  Velodpedistu,  pub. 
on  the  15th  of  each  month  at  Prague,  No.  352  Smichov ;  Em.  J.  Schmied,  editor.''    As  the 


698  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 

number  which  reached  me  in  Mar.,  '85,  was  the  6th  of  Vol.  I.,  CykHtta  doabtlev  begn  in 
OcL,  'S4 ;  and  it  is  so  neatly  printed  (la  pp.»  9  by  la  in.)  that  I  wish  it  a  very  long  life. 

France,  the  true  native  land  of  cycling,  now  boasts  of  at  least  six  towns  where  iounuds  of 
the  sport  are  regularly  issued ;  and  though  its  literatuHe  is  less  voluminous  than  EngtaiuTs,  tat 
chronology  of  it  is  more  extensive, — representing  almost  every  one  of  the  19  years,  '68  to  *86l 
"  Le  V^locipMe,"  pub.  at  Marseilles  in  '68,  seems  to  have  been  the  primary  pampMet  of  aB, 
and  it  described  the  mechanics  of  the  bone-shaker.  Its  author  was  A.  Favre,  of  Vobtm 
(Is&re)  -,  and  he  issued,  at  Grenoble,  from  Jan.  to  June,  '69,  a  monthly  of  the  same  name,  the 
Vilocipide^  the  first  journal  of  its  sort  in  the  v world.  (I  say  this  in  the  belief  that  the  8  pu 
monthly,  VtlocipeeUst^  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  niuabers  was  dated  Jan.)  At  Grenoble, 
also,  in  '69,  A.  Berruyer  issued  "  Manuel  du  V^loceman,"  a  60  c.  pamphlet,  printed  by  P. 
Allier,  8  Grand  st.  At  Paris,  the  Vilocipide  Illustri  put  forth  162  numberR  during  the  troubkias 
years,  '69,  '70,  '71  and  '7a  (Z«  Vitesse  being  substituted  as  a  title  from  No.  13a  to  No.  138). 
Its  editor  was  L.  G.  Jacques,  who  also  produced  ('69;  20  c.)  "  Manuel  da  V^loctpMe,"  a 
pamphlet  of  "  etudes  fantaisistes  sur  le  bicycle,''  illust  by  E.  Benassit.  This  was  pub.  at  the 
office  of  the  Petit  Journal^  as  were  also  the  three  annual  issues,  "  Almanach  des  Velocipedes," 
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^locipMe  "  (2  vols.,  illust.  by  F.  Regamey,  #i.ao); 
anticipating  thus,  in  fiction,  the  actual  "  Around  the  World  on  a  Bicycle  "  by  Thomas  Sterens. 
In  '72,  also,  was  pub.  at  Lyons,  a  little  pamphlet  by  Marchegay :  "  Essai  th^onqae  et  pratiqoe 
sur  le  v^hicule  Bicycle."  At  Paris,  in  '69,  appeared  "  Hygiine  du  VrfJodpfcde,'*  by  M.  D.  Pdles- 
contre,  edited  by  Richard,  1 1  Matarine  st. ;  and  "  Report  of  the  Sod^t^  Pratique  da  VflodpUfe 
for  '69  "  ;  and  in  '78,  "  Tricycle  et  Vilodp&de  ii  vapeur,"  by  L.  G.  Perreaux,  8  Jeaa-Bait  sL 

In  '74,  there  were  pub.  at  Paris  33  weekly  numbers  of  the  Viioci^de^  edited  by  B.  Bocuuni, 
which  was  the  third  French  journal  of  that  name ;  and  it  was  apparently  the  only  one  known  n 
France  during  the  interval  between  the  death  of  its  "  Illustri**  namesake  in  '73,  and  the  es- 
tablishment, in  '80,  of  the  Sport  Vilocipidique  (Paris  :  xii  Villiers  av. ;  la  pp.,  weekly,  $2.40), 
managed  by  Henri  Pagis,  and  named  in  '8$  as  "  the  official  organ  of  the  Union  VtiocipMiqiic 
de  France."  Next  to  it  in  age  is  the  Rewe  Vilocipidique^  which  was  mentioned  in  *83,  as 
pub.  in  Paris,  three  times  a  month,  at  114  boulevard  National  \  Clichy  (R.  Rigcley,  manager; 
E.  Forestier,  ed.  in  chief;  $1),  and  in  '84,  as  pub.  at  Rouen,  "  semi-monthly,  but  weekly  during 
the  riding  season,"— the  ed.  retaining  the  same  address  in  Paris,  as  before.  I  have  received 
Nos.  90  to  97,  dated  Mar.  5  to  Apr.  23,  '8$  ;  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  xi  by  15  in.,  and  the  p)x 
vary  from  8  to  10,— 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  know 
whether  the  other  French  papers  attempt  a  more  elegant  typography.  I  am  not  familiar  enaa^ 
.  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  supplements, 
called  "  Pantheon  V^Iocip^dique,"  to  its  issues  of  Mar.  19  and  Apr.  a  give  portraits  of  CbaL 
Garrard  (b.  Nov.  12,  '55,  at  London),  racer  and  dealer,  and  of  Adrian  De  Baroncelli  (b.  Apr. 
5,  '52,  at  Paris),  tourist,  author  and  publisher,  of  whonf  I  shall  speak  later.  Its  issue  of  Jao. 
22,  '85,  and  many  following  dates  contained:  "Th^orie  du  V^locipMe,  by  J.  Macqnoni 
Rankine,  Prof,  in  the  Univ.  of  Glasgow;  translation  of  M.  J.  Viollet;  reviewed  by  the  AbM 
Moigno."  This  is  a  learned  treatise,  with  many  mathematical  formuls ;  and  De  BaronoelK  sajs 
('84),  "  it  was  issued  as  a  pamphlet,  at  Paris,  in  '70."  If  this  date  is  not  a  misprint,  the  re-ap> 
pcarance  of  the  matter  as  a  serial,  15  years  later,  speaks  well  for  its  intrinsic  merits  as  a  me^ 
chanical  essay  on  the  two-wheeler.  De  B.  also  mentions  ('83)  the  VMocipidie  lUmOrit^  as  issued 
from  the  Revue  office,  at  %\  a  year ;  but  I  think  it  was  short  lived.    The  same  offiee  pub.,  eariy 


UTERATURE  OF  THE  WHEEL.  699 

in  '84,  "  Almanftch  lUastrl  de  la  V^ociptfdle  poor  '84  ** ;  and  a  stmDar  on«,  a  year  later,  for 
*85,  the  price  of  each  being  30  c.  I  presume  the  *86  issue  sqipeared  duly,  and  that  a  fourth  is  in 
preparation  for  '87. 

I  have  received  from  the  author t who  publishes  the  same  at  18  Roqu^pine  St.,  Paris), 
••  Annuaire  de  la  Vdodp^die  Pratique,"  by  A.  De  Baroocelli,  Consul  of  C.  T.  C. ;  in  2  vols., 
4^  by  7  in.,  bound  in  stiff  paper  and  weighing  7  oz.  each.  The  "  First  Year,  1883-4  "  (149  pp., 
%<o  c),  appeared  early  in  '83  ;  the  "  Second  Year,  1884-5  "  (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.  37-132  to  40  tabulated  "  routes  for  wheelmen," — the  introductory  pp.  be- 
ing devoted  to  general  information  about  roads,  maps,  r.  r.  and  s.  s.  charges,  distances,  abbrevia- 
tiooB  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.  fi8 ;  "bibliography,  French  and  foreign,"  to  p.  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;  42  pp.,  101.,  no  adv.,  16  c),  "La 
VAocip^e  I^lique  " ;  and  the  author  mentions  the  existence  of  another  one  of  the  same  name, 
by  V.  L^ger  (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  V^loceman."  I  have  not  heard  of  the 
book's  appearance,  but  I  judge  from  the  works  before  me  that  De  Baroncelli  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  buy 
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 "  {^Velocipedsport^  Berlin,  Mar.  25,  '85,  p.  11)  for  a  list  of  its 
half-dozen  existing  trade  journals.  Besides  these,  De  B.  catalogues  the  Revut  ties  Smarts  (Paris : 
zS  Faubotug  Montmartre ;  weekly,  $3.40 ;  F.  Pagnioud,  manager),  though  I  suppose  that  cy- 
cling is  only  one  featiu-e  of  it ;  and  the  VHace^  begun  as  a  monthly,  Aug.  i,  '82,  at  Pau  (Bassea- 
Pyr^n^es),  whose  manager, Tonnet,  of  Ecoles  PL,  never  issued  No.  2.  Pau,  however,  soon  be- 
came the iniblication-place  of  the  Vila  Pyrinien  (x8  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  ViloctmaMy  "illust  mag.  of  the  sport  and  trade,"  was  begun  at  Montpellier  (t8  National 
St.,  12  pp.,  $1.20),  in  Jan.,  '85,  **  upon  the  same  lines  as  Wheelings  of  London  "  ;  and  it  suc- 
ceeded so  well  as  to  change  to  a  semi-monthly  on  June  r5, — 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  Veloeipedspiniy  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  Viloctman  itself,  Aug.  i,  *86,— all  three  likenesses  being  called /' very 
excellent "  by  Wheeling,  Mr.  Duncan  is  corres|X)ndent  of  several  English  and  American 
sporting  sheets.  His  partner,  in  founding  the  VilocemttHy  was  L.  Suberbie.  A  weekly,  the 
VUoceSpcri^  was  begun  at  Bordeaux,  Mar.  $,  '85  ;  was  quoted  from,  two  months  later,  and  I 
presume  still  flourishes.  At  Le  Mans  (Sarthe),  the  "  Legion  V^lociprfdlque  "—whose  rooms 
are  at  31  Republic  PI.,  and  whose  annual  fee  is  50  c. — sends  a  monthly  organ,  the  Vilo^  free  to 
each  member.  Two  weeklies  which  the  Revue  "recommends  to  cyclers"  are  the  Sp&rt  du 
^l/7iiy  (Bordeaux,  2  Cours  de  Gourgues,  #2),  and  the  7Vir««r  (Paris,  12  St.  George  St.,  %\\  A 
sketch  of  French  cycling,  from  '67  to  '74.  was  contributed  by  P.  De  Villers  to  the  Wheelntan  of 
Jan.  and  Aug.,  '83  (pp.  307,  331);  and  an  official  road-book  for  the  Union  V4$Iocip^dique  de 
France  was  mentioned  by  the  Wheels  of  Mar.  5,  '86,  as  in  preparation  by  Mr.  Jacquot. 

The  Vflocipidie  Beige  issued  21  semi-monthly  numbers,  in  '8r-2,  at  Brussels;  and  was  fol- 
lowed, in  Nov.,  '82,  by  a  similar  sheet,  the  ViUce  Beige  (45  Brouckfcre  PI.,  I1.30),  whose  titia 


700  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

was  changed  Xo  Journal  dei  SporU,  on  the  loth  number.  Its  adv.  of  '84  named  E.  De  G3xiie  as 
ed.,  with  office  at  38  Boul.  du  Jardin  Botanique.  Perhaps  it  still  flourishes ;  and  so,  I  presuoc, 
does  the  CyclisU  Belge^  of  Louvain  (18  Diest  St.,  semi-monthly,  $1.30),  which  began  in  Jan., 
'85,  as  "official  organ  of  the  F^d^ration  V^lodp^dique  Beige."  Three  Italian  towns  beloctg 
on  my  list ;  for,  in  '83,  the  V^loce-Club  du  Rome  issued  an  official  oigan,  Revista.  drgli  SferU 
(125  via  S.  Maria  Maggiore ;  80  c.)  ;  and,  at  Leghorn,  Sport  was  pub.  by  R.  Basikne,  «tf  a 
Scali  Manzino ;  while  Turin  now  boasts  of  the  Revista  Vohcipedistica  (10  Corso  S.  Martino, 
Ulust.  semi-monthly,  I2),  which  finished  its  first  year  as  a  $1  monthly,  not  later  than  June,  ^ 
when  its  manager  was  V.  Fenoglio,  and  its  chief  editor  C  Toscani,  who,  I  sunx)se,  are  atiO  in 
control,  and  still  remain,  as  then,  the  only  cycling  journalists  in  Italy.  "  Statuto  deDa  Sodca 
Ciclisti  ItiJiani,''  issued  by  the  Turin  Wheel  Club,  and  exhibiting  in  21  articles  the  objects,  con- 
stitution and  advantages  thereof,  was  praised  by  Wheeling  (Jan.  6,  '85),  as  a  **  compact  littk 
thumb-book,  of  an  excellence  without  parallel  in  England  among  wheel-dub  etutcxnes."  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  abo  have 
such  a  paper,  Tidningfor  Idrott^  pub.  in  Stockholm,  at  13  Storkyrkobrinken,  wfaidi  the  Wheel 
of  Jan.  8,  '86,  noted  as  just  begun ;  and  I  am  told  that  the  Spaniards  support  the  Veiocipedo, 
at  Madrid.  As  for  the  Dutch,  I  liave  no  later  information  than  the  following,  whidi  was  writ- 
ten for  me  May  10,  '84,  by  C.  H.  Bingham,  an  English  resident  of  Utrecht,  who  is  not  only 
chief  consul  for  Holland  of  the  C.  T.  C,  but  also  president  of  the  Nederlandsche  Velodpedis- 
tenbund  (Dutch  Cyclers'  Union,  founded  July  i,  '83) :  "The  only  cycling  print  in  Holland  b 
the  Maandbladi  a  small  monthly  circular  of  official  notices,  which  b^an  in  ApriL  We  have, 
however,  pub.  a  map  of  the  country,  for  tourists'  use  ;  and  shall  also  pub.,  before  thu  montli 
closes,  an  official  road-guide,  containing  descriptions  of  the  surface  of  all  our  chief  roads^  with 
distances,  names  of  hotels,  smiths  and  caftis,  and  other  information.  This  will  be,  I  believe, 
the  first  official  and  complete  route-book  pub.  in  any  country. "  (The  "  C.  W.  A.  Guide  "  v» 
really  the  first,  having  appeared  before  these  words  were  written.  See  p.  330.)  "  Frankfort-on- 
Main  is  about  to  issue  a  new  paper,  the  SUel  Wheel,"*  says  the  C.  T,  C.  GautU  of  Oct.,  '86^ 

General  Guides. 
Under  thb  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  explorers  in  general ;  but  as  only  a  half-page  remains  to  me,  my  list  must  be  brief.  Fint, 
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;  36S  pp.aDd 
30  adv.  pp. ;  40  iilust ;  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  b  accompanied  by  the 
excellent  road-map  of  the  county,  and  of  northern  Ct.,  which  I  have  described  on  p.  tia; 
and  it  gives  the  mileage  of  no  less  than  500  drives,  starting  from  Pittsfield,  Lenox,  Stockbridlge, 
Great  Barrington,  Sheffield,  South  Egremont,  Adams,  North  Adams,  Williamstown,  Salisbunr. 
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,  cafions,  valleys,  cities,  and  other  picturesque  features  of  our  country;  with 
illustrations  on  steel  and  wrood,  by  eminent  American  artbts;  edited  by  W.  C.  Bryant" 
(N.  Y.  :  Appletons;  4to,  I.,  '72,  pp.  568 ;  II.,  '74,  pp.  576).  There  are  some  60  chapters  in  thb 
great  work,  supplied  by  24  contributors,  though  its  projector  and  real  editor,  O.  B.  Bunce,  sop* 
plies  10.  B.  J.  Lossing's  "  Field  Book  of  the  American  Revolution  "  (N.  Y  :  Harpen,  8to. 
'50,  pp.  772,  842),  and  "  Field  Book  of  the  War  of  i8za  "  ('68,  pp.  1084),  both  profnsely  iUas. 
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  bactle^fiddb 
of  1777-81 ;  and  he  also  traveled  10,000  m.  in  collecting  materiaU  for  hb  book  of  x8ia. 


XXXVIII. 

THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT. 

"  But  courage  still !  Without  return  or  swerving,  across  the  globe's  huge  shadow  keep  the  trade, 
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."— TVfc*  ThankUu  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. 


Uniqiie  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.  28 
(s7S  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  dearly  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 " 
(f.  r.,  to  gratify  the  author's  vanity,  or  "  for  the  good  of  the  cause  ")— have  plainly  been  copyists 
and  rivals  of  the  trade-joumak  :  seeking  to  make  money  only  from  advertiaemenU,  and  caring 


702 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Gtfin  dttd  con* 
ception. 


nothing  for  readers  except  as  a  bait  to  catch  this  patronage  of  "  the  trade."  To  the  cater  vorid, 
therefore,  all  such  prints  seem  simply  devices  of  the  makers  and  dealers,  for  increasing  the  cydc 
business.  But  an  elaborate  and  expensive  volume  which  can  rise  superior  to  all  trade  infliienoes» 
and,  by  virtue  of  demonstrating  its  independence  of  them,  can  win  profitable  support  from  as 
unexampled  multitude  of  readers,  is  a  thing  which  most  impress  the  imagination  of  the  oaBer 
world  with  the  power  of  cycling  itself.  I  think  each  owner  of  this  book  will  like  it  better  be* 
caiise  it  nowhere  affronts  him  with  any  block-type  "  adv.,''  or  even  with  the  picture  of  a  bicy^ 
de ;  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  render  him  eager  to  reward  me,  and 
paralyze  a  sceptical  public,  by  helping  force  a  speedy  sale  of  30,000  copies. 

"  An  index  of  places  "  was  recommended  by  me  when  the  BL  WeHd 
drew  near  the  end  of  its  first  annual  volume ;  and  the  editor,  in  printing  ny 
argument  (Nov.  26,  '80,  p.  36),  said  it  had  induced  him  to  begin  on  such  an 
index,  but  that  the  threatened  bulkiness  thereof  seemed  to  render  its  completion  and  publicatioB 
impracticable.  The  idea  in  that  letter  was  the  germ  from  which  has  grown  this  book ;  and 
when  tl\p  WktelmoH  was  started,  nearly  two  years  later,  I  talked  over  the  same  idea  with  iu 
editor,  and  at  last  agreed  to  prepare  for  him  an  article,  formulating  my  scheme  for  a  series  ol 
such  elaborate  indexes  as  would  "  make  the  successive  semi-annual  volumes  of  his  monthly  maga> 
sine  assume  the  character  of  standard  guides  to  American  roads. "  I  wrote  this  in  July,  and  it  was 
printed  at  the  end  of  the  2d  vol.  of  the  Whedtn€m  (Sept,  '83,  pp.  458^4^),  with  the  title,  "  A 
Colossus  of  Roads."  Having  shown  the  reasons  why  this  title  represented  my  ideal  of  the 
WhetlmoMy  and  having  uiged  the  sort  of  indexing  which  would  win  it  in  fact,  I  conduded  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  my  bicyde  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  Newburgb, 
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  imposdbility  of  ever  ps- 
suading  another  man  to  prepare  an  index  exactly  in  accordance  with  my  ovm  ideal  of  it,  the 
question  gradually  took  shapw  before  me,  *  Why  not  publish  a  bicjrder's  road-book  of  yoor  own, 
and  index  every  proper  name  in  it  entirely  to  your  heart's  content  ? '  To  this  qnestion,  when 
fairly  formulated,  I  at  once  replied,  '  I  will ' ;  and  before  I  resumed  my  homeward  journey  I 
dedded  that  the  book  should  be  calleil  '  Ten  Thousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle,'  and  should  be 
ready  for  publication  in  December,  1884." 

Simultaneous  with  this  was  the  deduon  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  ahooU 
describe  "the  queer  house  that  I  live  in."  The  notion  of  writing  something  about  these  two 
unique  subjects  had  possessed  me  for  several  years,  but  the  improbability  of  finding  any  pab> 
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.  Co.'s  c^er  of  a  prise  (Jnlf, 
'81)  led  me  to  produce  the  book's  introductory  essay,  "  On  the  Whed  " ;  but  the  incidents  of 
my  first  long  tour  (500  m.  in  Sept.,  '80;  see  pp.  199-208)  had  previously  dedded  me  to  attempt 
such  an  article,  for  LippincoU^s  Magazim,  because  I  felt  sure  that  I  could  write  mora  amusbgly 
than  another  contributor  who  had  ahneady  been  allowed  to  exhibit  the  bicyde  in  its  pages.  The 
Popes'  offer  simply  hastened  the  execution  of  this  long-delayed  plan,— for  1  thought  that  my 
magazine  article  might  as  wdl  take  a  preliminary  chance  at  their  prue  (which,  if  won,  would  be 
better  pay  than  the  usual  magazine  rates);  but  the  very  general  praise  given  to  the  article,  bjr 
reviewers  who  noticed  the  June  issue  of  Lippmcoit  containing  it,  had  a  more  important  mental 
effect  upon  me,  ultimately,  than  the  winning  of  the  prize  oould  have  had.  Remembrance  of  it, 
when  the  idea  of  the  book  first  took  shape  in  my  consdousness,  made  me  confident  that  the  esiajr 
would  serve  «»  a  witable  introduction  thereto ;  and  I  have  mentioned  on  p.  519  that  the  heat^ 


Early  notions  and 
influences. 


THTS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  703 

enlhiwiiiiiiin  of  a  certain  Western  toorirt,  exprMting  his  pleasure  in  my  series  of  statistical  runi- 
nisoefMea  about  "  No.  234/'  contributed  to  the  tVAttimaH,  was  a  definite  factor  in  forcing  my 
thoughts  to  drift  bookward.  On  that  historic  19th  of  April,  when  all  these  remote  elements  and 
long-gathering  tendencies,  culmioated  in  the  omoeption  of  the  book,  my  riding  record  ladced 
more  than  3600  m.  of  justifying  the  diosen  title ;  but  1  have  explained  in  the  preface  of  my 
"Straightaway  "  chapter  (p.  a95)  that  I  then  anticipated  an  unusually  active  season  of  wheeling, 
as  a  means  of  regaining  my  impaired  health,  and  laying  up  a  supply  of  strength  equal  to  the  pub- 
lishing scheme  ahead  of  me, — though  I  had  no  idea  that  this  was  destined  to  develop  into  the 
eactensive  and  tiresome  enterprise  I  am  now  grappling  with.  Within  a  week  from  the  19th,  in 
adcnowledging  an  annual  payment  from  the  publisher  of  my  earlier  book,  I  took  occasion  to 
tell  him  briefly  of  the  new  plan,  and  to  suggest  that  he  make  me  an  offer  concerning  it.  His 
tender  of  the  regulation  reply,  that  he  "  should  be  pleased  to  consider  my  manuscript,  when 
ready,'*  at  once  convinced  me  that  I  must  personally  dkoulder  the  whole  affair  if  I  wished  to  see 
it  carried  to  success ;  and  so  I  made  no  further  effort  to  arouse  any  one*s  interest  until  Sept.  10, 
when  (landing  in  Boston  from  my  Nova  Scotia  tour ;  see  p.  29a)  I  called  on  the  presklent  of  the 
Pope  M%.  Co.,  and  talked  the  matter  up.  ^ 

Arranjmnent  with  \        ^"^  ^^"^  ****'  *""^  ^^**  thinks  he  can  "  see  a  great  light"  for  the 
/W   P  «v  I  *^^<>^*"^^(  ^^  American  cycling,  I  had  a  natural  curiosity  to  discover 

^'  !  whether  the  man  who  holds  the  greatest  pecuniary  stake  in  that  ad- 

vancement could  also  be  made  to  "  see  it."  I  found  that  he  did  not  in  fact  believe  there  was 
any  very  promising  field  for  such  a  road-book  as  I  roughly  outlined  to  him,  or  that  its  circulation 
^fould  greatly  help  the  cycling  trade.  He  said  that  more  than  four  years  had  been  required  for 
working  off  4000  of  Pratt's  "American  Bicycler,"  though  a  large  proportion  of  these  had  been 
given  away  (to  newspaper  writers,  librarians  and  others),  for  the  sake  of  dispelling  popular  igno- 
rance about  the  machine,— <i  function  now  not  much  needed  in  a  new  book.  However,  in  spite 
of  his  slight  enthusiasm,  he  would  be  willing  to  favorably  consider  any  definite  proposition  I  might 
make  him  when  I  got  the  prospectus  of  mine  fairly  formulated.  This  happened  three  months 
later  (Dec  3),  and  I  then  proposed  that  he  buy  at  half-price  aooo  copies  of  the  $1  subscription- 
bocdc  therein  described,— paying  $500  for  the  first  1000  on  publication-day,  which  must  be  within 
a  year  from  date,  and  $yoo  for  the  second  1000  within  a  year  thereafter.  I  reserved  the  right  to 
retain  this  second  1000  or  any  part  thereof,  and  I  offered  to  leave  the  payment  for  even  the  first 
sooo  entirely  dependent  upon  the  purchaser's  satisfaction  with  the  actual  book.  I  insisted  that 
no  advertisement  or  imprint  of  any  sort  should  be  added  to  the  2000  volumes  purchased,  and 
that  none  of  them  duMild  be  sold  for  less  than  $1.  I  agreed  that  the  ed.  should  be  at  least  4000, 
and  that  I  would  not  issue  a  new  ed.  without  first  offering  to  buy  back  at  the  purchase  price  any 
unsold  copies  of  the  2000.  This  proposition  was  formally  accepted  by  the  Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  Dec. 
19,  '83 ;  but,  on  Sept.  17,  '84,  when  I  met  us  president  again  at  the  Springfield  tournament,  1 
told  him  that  I  could  not  bring  out  the  boc^  within  the  specified  time,  and  that,  instead  of  being, 
as  first  planned,  an  affair  of  300  pp.  (capable  of  being  manufactured,  say,  for  25  c.  a  copy),  it 
was  likely  to  be  so  laige  as  to  leave  no  decent  margin  on  a  contract  at  half  the  subscription- 
price.  So,  by  mutual  consent,  our  agreement  was  abrogated.  I  said  I  should  probably  offer 
him  another  chance,  later  on,  to  make  money  as  a  bookseller ;  but  I  did  not  do  so  in  fact  till 
June  3,  '86 ;  and  I  am  glad,  for  reasons  given  hereafter,  that  he  then  declined  it  (See  p.  711.) 
My  prospectus  said,  "The  publication  of  the  volume  is  made  con- 
ditional on  my  ability  to  secure  in  advance  the  pledges  of  at  least  xooo 
wheelmen  that  they  will  purchase  copies  at  $1  each ;  "  but  it  of  course 
gave  no  hint  of  the  fact,  now  first  proclaimed,  that  double  that  number  had  previously  been  pledged 
for  at  half-price.  I  hope  I  may  make  the  truth  clearly  understood  that  the  chief  value  to  me  of 
this  preliminary  pledge  was  a  moral  value ;  for,  in  the  absence  of  it,  I  should  probably  never 
have  printed  the  prospectus  at  all.  My  feeling  was  that  the  Popes  ought,  as  business  men,  to 
fed  a  thousand-fold  the  interest  which  any  individual  rider  might,  from  mere  sentiment,  feel  in 
the  success  of  such  a  scheme ;  and  that,  unless  I  had  the  ability  to  persuade  them  to  risk  f  1000 
on  it,  I  could  not  wisely  assume  the  ability  to  persuade  xooo  private  men  to  each  risk  $i. 


Moral  support  of 
prospectus. 


704 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Haring  gained  this  first  point,  howrrer,  I  was  emboldened  (Jan.  la,  '84)  to  take  to  the  | 
the  copy  for  my  "  prospectus  of  Dec.  3  "  and  "  circular  to  American  wheelmen,**— dataag  the 
latter  "  Jan.  15,"  which  was  the  day  when  I  read  the  proofs  and  ordered  3700  impressioes. 
On  that  day,  too,  the  publishers  of  the  Bi.  World  wtX  to  me  the  following  letter :  "  Dear  Sir,— 
The  prospectus  is  too  much  in  the  line  of  an  advertisement  to  be  admitted  free.  We  are  wiUiag 
to  help  you  all  we  can,  but  you  are  newspapwr-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  wheelmen.  Respectfully,  E.  C  Hodgss  &  Col" 


A  prophecy  from 
Boston, 


The  above  was  in  response  to  my  suggestion  that  the  BL  WaridvA 
Wheel  (the  only  cycling  papwrsthen  in  the  field)  should  be  given  adianoe 
to  make  simultaneous  announcement  of  the  scheme,  either  on  Jan.  35  or 
a  week  later,  98  they  might  agree ;  for  I  wished  that  neither  journal  should  win  ezdosive  oedk 
by  first  bringing  out  an  important  piece  of  *'  news.*'  On  the  iSth,  I  mailed  to  eadi  a  proof  copy 
of  prospectus  and  circular,  and  remarked  to  ed.  of  B.  W.  that  I  hoped,  when  he  actually  saw 
the  same,  he  would  think  it  contained  much  matter  worth  publishing, — espedaJIy  as  ed.  of 
Wheel  had  notifi^  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  rec;axxl> 
ing  your  road-book.  I  have  been  selling  bicycling  literature  for  neariy  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  $1  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  will  sell  that  number.  You  will  say  that  the  wheelmen  have  been  cry- 
ing for  just  such  a  book,  and  that  the  great  majority  ought  to  buy  it.  Experience  will  show  yon 
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 ;  notker 
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  looo  copies,  you  win  waste 
your  time  and  money  working  on  the  thing." 

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  comi>etent  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  with  my  writings  and  had  a  good  opinion  of  them, 
and  his  warning  was  prompted  by  sincere  good-will,  and  it  deserved  the  respect  always  doe  to 
the  opinion  of  an  experienced  and  careful  observer.  Yet  it  supplied  the  best  conceivable  spn- 
for  driving  me  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  wiU  '  talk  taffy' 
everlastingly,  but  will  not  '  talk  money  '  worth  a  cent.  Nevertheless,  if  I  readly  publish  soch  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  $x  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  too  League 
members  were  subscribers  to  it,  though  only  six  days  had  gone  since  the  Wheeimide  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  of  space  in  all, 
including  its  title-page.  I  was  thus  enabled  without  expense  to  make  a  "  preliminary  canvass 
of  the  League  *'  (the  Wheel bdng  mailed  to  each  member,  as  "official  organ  ");  and  I  said,  in 


flow  "300"  fixed  me 
for  "  30CX3." 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  705 

this  first  asking  for  pledges  :  "  The  number  and  character  of  the  responses  received  will  enable 
me  to  decide  whether  or  not  it  is  worth  my  while  to  attempt  a  canvass  of  outside  wheelmen,  by 
addressing  circulars  to  them  individually;  for,  if  the  League  men  ignore  my  appeal,  I  shall  be 
convinced  of  the  futility  of  carrying  my  scheme  further,  and  shall  waste  no  more  time  and  money 
upon  a  road-book  for  which  there  is  no  real  demand. " 


Success  ofprtlimi' 
nary  canvass. 


The  enthusiastic  "  character  *'  of  the  replies  which  promptly  poured 
in  upon  me — vigorously  urging  that  I  "  go  ahead,"  and  offering  all  man- 
ner of  assistance — had  quite  as  strong  an  effect  upon  my  mind  as  the 
mere  *'  number  "  of  them  ;  though  this  itself  was  extraordinary,  for,  on  the  twelfth  day  after  the 
lyfueFs  first  call  to  the  League,  my  subscriptions  exceeded  300,  which  was  the  "  outside  limit  " 
that  the  Boston  prophet  had  named  (as  probably  unattainable),  even  for  the  final  sale  of  the 
book.  I  embodied  some  of  the  more  significant  of  these  responses  in  a  letter  called  *'  A 
Club-List  as  well  as  Road- Book,"  covering  2  pp.  of  JVhrel^  and  I  circulated  2000  copies  of  this, 
as  **  lyheel  Extra  of  Feb.  22," — though,  by  a  printer's  blunder  in  distributing  the  type,  it  never 
was  really  inserted  in  the  regular  issue.  I  also  circulated  1000  copies  of  a  2  p.  reprint  from 
tVhtelol  Jan.  25  ;  and  I  mention  the  fact  to  show  the  incidintal  advertisement  ensured  to  that 
journal  by  its  willingness  to  freely  help  my  scheme.  In  a  letter  to  its  editor,  May  8  (printed  May 
23),  I  reminded  his  readers  that—"  though  he  certainly  never  had  cause  to  cherish  any  special 
good-will  towards  me,  for  I  rarely  extended  any  sujjport  to  the  paper  beyond  paying  my  annual 
subf'cription  for  it,  and  I  never  had  occasion  to  show  him  any  favors  in  private  intercourse"— > 
he  had  put  in  type  every  word  I  had  sent  him  about  the  book.  Hence,  "  I  wish  to  bear  testi- 
mony that  for  all  this  valuable  service  I  have  paid  not  $1  in  money ;  I  have  given  no  promise  of 
payment  in  the  shape  of  engaging  *  adv.  space  *  for  the  future ;  I  hav2  subscribed  for  not  so 
much  as  a  share  in  the  stock  of  the  paper.  The  Whgel  has  had  no  other  motive  or  inspiration 
in  giving  a  boom  to  my  book,  than  a  broad-minded  belief  that  the  success  of  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  for  cycling, — a  good  thing  for  the  League.  The  WJicel  has  not  so  much  as  attempted  to 
make  any  immediate  profit  out  of  the  project,  but  has  been  satisfied  with  the  promise  of  its  own 
proper  share  in  the  ultimate  profits  that  must  result  from  the  increase  of  bicycling.  Other 
papers,  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  have  had  kind  words  to  say  in  behalf  of  the  scheme,  and 
I  hope  I  am  properly  grateful  for  the  suime ;  but  the  Wh^el  has  certainly  done  more  than  all 
other  papers  combined  to  make  my  preliminary  canvass  a  success,  and  I  wish  that  my  recogni- 
tion of  the  fact  should  be  put  on  record  as  impressively  as  possible.  If  a  knowledge  of  the 
liberal  aid  extended  to  my  book  shall  incline  any  hesitating  league  member  to  renew  his  sub- 
scription to  the  Wfuel^  I  think  it  only  fair  that  the  paper  should  have  the  benefit  of  such  knowl- 
edge. With  this  prelude,  I  invite  the  League's  attention  to  my  formal  announcement  of  *A 
Guide-Book  iviihoHt  Advertisfments.^  "  (Then  followed  a  full  reprint  of  my  circular  so  entitled, 
which  was  dated  May  8,  '84,  and  covered  one  side  of  a  note  sheet,  5  by  8  in.  On  the  other  side 
was  reproduced  my  "  prospectus  and  table  of  contents,  as  arranged  Dec.  3,  'S3,"  except  that,  in- 
stead of  naming  "  about  300  pp."  for  size,  and  "  about  June  15  "  for  publication  day,  "  about 
400  pp."  and  "  about  Oct.  15  "  were  now  named.) 


Formal  promise 
to  finish. 


Hitherto,  my  work  had  been  tentative  and  conditional.  This  circular 
(ed.  7000)  was  my  earliest  promise  to  push  on  to  a  finish.  It  said  :  "Ac- 
cepting the  1200  subscriptions  already  pledged  as  an  affirmative  answer  to 
my  enquiry  concerning  the  alleged  demand  for  such  a  volum »,  I  now  announce  my  determina- 
tion to  conduct  a  formal  canvass  for  subscribers  until  I  secure  3000  of  them,  and  then  to  print 
5000  copies  of  the  book.  The  profits  on  the  sale  of  that  number,  at  #1,  will  probably  suffice  to 
yield  a  \fi\r  compensation  for  the  labor  of  bringing  the  scheme  to  success,  though  such  success 
demands  that  my  entire  time  and  energies  for  a  full  year  should  be  devoted  to  this  single- proj- 
ect. Dec.  has  been  named  as  the  latest  allowable  date  of  publication  ;  but  my  best  endeavors 
will  be  exerted  to  bring  this  book  out  early  in  Oct.  The  patrons  who  have  been  attracted  to  me 
by  this  preliminary  canvass  are  residents  of  nearly  350  towns,  and  represent  every  State  and 
Territory  of  the  Union,  except  Fla.,  Miss.,  La.,  Nev.,  N.  M.,  Ariz.,  Id.,  and  Indian  Ter.  Thir- 
teen towns  of  Ontario  are  represented  on  my  list  by  40  subscribers,  and  7  towns  of  Nova  Scotia, 


Attraction  of  English 
patrons. 


706  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

by  30 ;  while  Bermuda,  England,  Scotland,  Holland,  Gennany,  and  Australia  send  an  aggre- 
gate of  20  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  wlucfa  I  mailed 
at  the  very  outset,  in  Jan. ;  and  the  editor  of  the  earliest  cycling  paper  of  Melbourne  wrote  to 
me  thus,  on  March  13  :  "  An  esqwrienoe  of  some  three  years  in  Southern  wheel  life  has  per* 
mitted  me  to  form,  with  tolerable  certainty,  an  estimate  of  the  mind  of  the  average  colonial  cy- 
dist.  Consequently  I  can  say  :  Be  not  sanguine  of  disposing  of  many  copies  of  your  book  in 
this  part  of  the  hemisphere.  If  you  obtain  xa  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 
113  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  tVkeelin^,  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  ustraUoH  Cycling  Xews 
and  private  correspondents,  "  I  had  not  yet  begun  any  serious  attempt  for  support  among  the 
dubs  of  Great  Britain."  My  first  regular  broadside  was  fired  in  that  direction  Feb.  5,  '85,  aimed 
at  200  club-officers  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  drculars, — one  of  which  said  that 
my  total  list  (2413)  included  306  patrons  outside  the  U.  S.,  whereof  41  were  residents  of  Great 
Britain.  "  I  am  afraid  K.  K.  will  be  sadly  disappointed  "  (wrote  "  Comus,"  in  HHkttl  Life^ 
Feb.  37,  p.  333)  "  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  fourfokl,  by 
reason  of  this  "  bold  adv."  and  later  ones, — chief  among  which  was  IVhteling's  offer  to  fredy 
mall  my  circulars  to  all  applicants,  to  announce  through  its  "  Ans.  to  Correspondents  "  all  sab. 
pledges  addressed  to  me  at  its  office,  and  ultimately  to  acknowledge  through  the  same  median 
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  bar^gaining  "  or 
mutual  agreement ;  but,  as  occasion  offered,  in  printing  thousands  of  new  labels  and  drculan, 
I  naturally  took  pains  to  reciprocate,  by  appending  thereto  a  "  free  adv."  of  Whetling.  I  (fid  ■ 
this  the  more  readily  because  the  act  would  at  the  same  time  help  the  Springfieid  Wheeltmntt 
GaaetUf  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  sped* 
men  article  designed  for  my  book,  with  a  full-page  summary  of  my  pffc» 
liminary  canvass ;  and  if  any  of  the  later  issues  has  failed  to  contain  a  similar  artide,  or  some 
sort  of  paragraph  or  advertisement  about  tlie  scheme,  the  omission  has  been  due  to  my  own 
°^I>SCiice  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  0>.,  of  whidi  be 
is  superintendent.  "  The  policy  was  adopted  at  a  time  when  the  contract  seemed  destined  to  90 
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  cyding."  My 
"  Circular  to  Hotel  Keepers  "  and  sketch  of  "  The  Costs  of  Book-making  "  covered  4  pp.  ia 
the  Gaxetie  of  Aug.,  '84,  and  I  drculated  tooo  reprints  of  the  same.    Then,  Sept.  25,  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  fined  s  pp.  of 
Oct.  Gagette;  and  I  ultimately  used  6500  reprints  thereof,  in  a  half  dozen  eda.  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  words,  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  io5o  names  lacking  for  the  3000,  as  to  mak6  any  profit  in  supplying  so  expensive  a  book  at 
the  specified  rate.  I  *ve  therefore  decided  to  increase  its  price  to  $1.50  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  charge  against  them  was  prob- 
able. The  Dec.  GaaetU  gave  a  page  to  my  "  Pointer  for  '  the  Trade,' "  and  the  March  issue  an 
equal  space  to  a  summary  of  localities  represented  by  the  2384  subs,  enrolled  at  the  close  of 
Jan.,  '85.  I  issued  3500  reprints  of  both  pages,  and  I  was  drni^d  nothing  for  use  of  the 
electrotypes  thereof,  nor  for  others  previously  mentioned.  I  took  pains,  however,  to  append  a 
marginal  adv.  of  the  GatittezxA  iVheelingXo  the  later  eds.  of  all  these  ;  and  the  G.  adv.  was  also 
given  7500  impressions  in  a  contents-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). 

From  May  8, '84,  when  I  declared  I  would  "  print  the  book 
after  getting  1800  more  subscriptions,"  to  July  4,  '85,  when 
"  the  3000th  "  was  really  enrolled,  nearly  every  week's  Wluel 
contained  something  about  the  canvass, — varying  from  a  two>line  paragraph  to  a  long  letter. 
The  longest  covered  five  columns,  Nov.  a  1 ,  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  "  special  illust,  WheeV*  (Apr.  3,  '85)  to  each  one  of  my  a62i 
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  knmu  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,the  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  2000  at  $1. 50  each  that 
I  can  hope  to  reap  any  reward  for  my  two  years'  work  and  risk."  Other  correspondents  of  the 
/f^A^/ having  occasionally  cried  out  agafnst  the  editor's  giving  so  much  space  to  my  tiresome 
statistics  and  arguments,  I  suggested  in  reply  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. 


Defense  of  tfu  "  WheePs' 
freeativ. 


Press  encouragement  at  Boston 
and  elsewhere. 


I  believe  the  Canadian  Wheelman^  Smtthem  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  official  weekly  (during  the  year  which 
elapsed  between  the  departure  from  the  Wheel  and  the  establishment  of  the  BuOetin)  was  such 
a  small  and  meanly-printed  sheet  that  I  wrote  very  little  for  it, — especially  after  learning  that 
its  editor  had  been  criticised  for  "  helping  a  non-member  of  the  League,"  by  publishing  a  short 
note  of  mine,— but  I  think  that  all  I  did  write  was  printed,  except  a  long  "  Argument  to  Hotel- 


7o8         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

Keepers,*'  which  finally  filled  three  columns  in  the  Whul  (Dec.  36,  *S4).  I  beliere,  too,  that 
the  Bi.  World  used  almost  everything  I  wrote  for  it,  though  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  accepumce. 
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,  tlie  Bi.  World  might  have  been  pre- 
sumed, a  priori^  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  seA^ral 
of  my  chapters  accredited  to  it,  and  as  it  had  more  than  once  cried  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,  was  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  t^n- 
ion,  and  space  was  really  given  for  the  circular  (after  the  chapter-titles,  the  most  readable  and 
significant  part  of  it,  had  been  cut  out !),  as  well  as  for  later  "  advertising  "  ;  but  the  B.  I#'.'i 
delay  and  "  oflfishness  "  resulted  in  a  public  surrender  to  the  WJuel  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  exdo- 
sive  use  of  my  signature.  I  Ve  never  cherished  any  grievance  against  the  B.  W.,  or  thought  <^ 
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  roost 
of  my  writings  elsewhere.  "  New  York  shrewdness,"  on  the  other  hand,  must  be  attributed  to 
the  WfutPs  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) ;  but 
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  effectiveness  with  this  initia- 
tory call  for  League  support  made  through  the  Wk^el.  After 
the  League  had  doubled  in  size,  its  Bulletin  printed  specimen  extracts  from  the  book,  with  foot- 
note adv.  ;  and  the  Wkeelmen^s  Gazette  has  often  done  likewise  (giving  a  or  3  pp.  at  a  tinM, 
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  sort,  and  it  was  unusual  for  an  ordinary  letter,  in 
Wheel  ox  other  papers,  to  bring  a  quarter  as  many.  A  half-column  editorial  in  the  leading  daDy 
of  a  city  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  papers, 
half  of  them  representing  colleges;  but  it  was  not  until  Dec.  10,  '85.  that  1  sought  to  call  liter- 
ary reviewers'  attention  to  it  as  an  accomplished  fact.  To  100  representatives  of  the  general 
press  of  America,  to  30  of  the  college  press  and  40  English  and  foreign  journals,  I  then  sent 
specimen  chapters  and  circulars,  with  a  special  note  saying,  the  book  could  be  announced  as 
"  likely  to  appear  early  in  '86."  I  don't  suppose  that  many  of  them  so  announced  it,  or  gare 
any  sort  of  mention  to  it ;  but  what  chiefly  surpriaed  me  was  the  refusal  of  the  college  editors  to 


Iwffectiventss  of  "  ttrws- 
paper  talk:' 


Iftdifference  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  remiaift. 
cencesof  "  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  "notices"  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.  1  would 
by  no  means  depreciate  the  value  of  their  support, — for  it  was  a  notable  phenomenon  of  my 
canvass,  and  an  essential  factor  in  its  success, — but  I  wish  to  make  clear  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, 
alt  the  **  newspaper  talk  "  in  the  world  would  not  have  availed  to  till  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  nbt  really  as  effective,  in  commanding  attention,  as  are  the  out-and-out  handbills 
whose  big  type  hoarsely  howls  its  message  from  the  regular  advertising  page.) 

The  chief  disappointment  in  my  task  has  arisen  from  the  apathy  and  m- 
difference  of  **  the  trade," — the  men  who  have  money  to  make  by  the  spread 
of  cycling,  and  whose  support  I  confidently  assumed  would  be  given  to  any 
plan  that  plainly  teilded  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  62a  pledges  ;  and  I  devoted  the  voyage  to  putting  up 
packages  of  circulars  which  I  mailed  homeward  to  250  agents  for  Columbia  bicycles,  llieir 
responses  were  hardly  worth  counting.  Nine  months  later,  when  2100  pledges  were  enrolled, 
I  addressed  a  second  argument  to  "  the  trade  "  ( S/»r.  If^h.  Gaz.,  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 
appear  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  Gasttte  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."  Mailing  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  tradesmen  in  general  will  accept  the  actual  book  as  worth  selling  for  no 
other  reward  than  the  remote  one  implied  in  the  chance  that  its  circulation  will  increase  the 
sale  of  wheels;  but,  after  their  surprising  refusal  to  take  any  advance  stock  in  it,  or  allow  me 
to  give  them  a  "  free  adv.,"  I  am  not  specially  sanguine  of  persuading  them  to  "  help  along 
their  business  by  the  act  of  helping  mine."  Their  mental  lethargy,  in  regard  to  improving 
chances  at  all  remote,  was  significantly  shown  by  the  fact  that  though  423  dealers  were  offered 


710  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Progress  in  writing 
and  elictrotyping. 


a  '*  free  adv."  in  tb«  "  Wheelmen's  Reference  Book/'  before  deicribed,  only  60  took  the  txooUe 
to  fill  out  the  blank  fonn  which  ensured  it. 

My  contract  with  the  Springfield  Printing  Co.  was  nuule  Jan.  19^ 
'85,  and  plates  for  15  pp.  ojf  ajth  chapter  ("  Bennuda  ")  were  finirf>cd 
that  month,  from  same  type  which  had  been  used  in  patting  the  story 
into  GtuutU  plates.  Copy  for  first  7  chapters  (reprint,  with  a  few  additions)  was  sent  to  printers 
Feb.  IS  \  and  I  worked  from  then  till  Apr.  11,  105  h.,  in  writing  the  8th.  The  tith  was  also  an 
entirely  new  chapter,  which  cost  me  54  h.,  and  all  the  others  to  the  aist  required  labnriogi 
additions.  The  plates  for  the  ai  were  done  by  the  end  of  June  (except  that  the  "  last  pages  " 
of  several  chapters  were  held  over  for  completion  in  Sept.) ;  and  these  393  pp.  comprised  all 
the  material  of  the  book  which  existed  when  its  first  prospectus  was  prepared.  Chap.  a8  was 
next  electrotyped,  in  July  (I  wrote  it  just  a  year  earlier,  in  6  days;  49  h.);  Chap.  37  in  Aqg. 
(10  days;  67  h.);  Chap. '39  in  Sept.  (29  days;  167  h.) ;  and  I  then  printed  1000  of  each  as 
separate  pamphlets.  I  gave  33  h.  to  proof-reading  of  these  3  chapters ;  and  therefore  thdr 
83  pp.,  which  contain  no  facts  about  "  roads,"  cost  me  306  h.,  and  delayed  the  book  about  a 
mos.  At  this  point  my  right  hand  gave  out,  and  I  began  pen-practice  with  my  left,  which  has 
.done  nearly  all  the  later  work.  Chaps.  32  (10  days;  66  h.),  33  (17  days;  93  h.),  34  (11  days; 
60  h.),  and  36  (11  days ;  61  h.)  were  then  successively  written  and  put  in  type ;  so  that  on  Dec 
1$,  '85,  the  plates  of  book  were  complete  from  p.  i  to  p.  473.  I  worked  steadily  from  Dec  5  to 
Feb.  JO,  in  preparing  copy  for  pp.  473-554,  which  comprise  Chaps.  30  (1  x6  h.),  3 1  (77  h.)  and  part 
of  33  (63  h.) ;  and  after  printing  these  I  put  in  type  39  and  40,  containing  the  two  sub.  lists. 
These  were  arranged  by  other  hands,  under  my  direction,  and  the  alphabetical  list  gave  no 
special  trouble ;  but  after  the  slips  of  the  geographical  list  had  been  pasted  in  provisional  oiider  for 
the  printer,  I  myself  was  forced  to  work  84  h.  in  revising  them  and  39  h.  in  correcting  proofs,— 
the  whole  process  stretching  through  3  mos.,  and  ending  May  7.  Chap.  36  was  meanwhile 
written,  in  Apr.  (by  request,  for  first  use  in  "  Wh.  Ref.  Book  "),  and  finally  enlarged  and  sent  to 
printer  in  Oct.  Chaps.  34  (7  days ;  50  h.)  and  35  (i  i  days ;  67  h.)  were  mostly  written  in  May, 
and  electrotyped  in  July.  Chap.  37,  as  already  noted,  absorbed  me  till  the  end  of  sumaoer  (5a 
days ;  375  h.) ;  the  Preface  (41  h.)  during  the  first  week  of  Sept.,  and  this  present  chap.  (31  days; 
150  h.)  until  Sept.  30.  I  plan  next  to  prepare  Chaps.  33  and  40  (final  sections),  axkd  33,  in  the 
order  named,— -thus  making  the  latter  the  latest  part  of  the  book,  except  its  contenta-table  and 
indexes.  This  irregularity  of  construction  will  explain  some  seeming  incongruities  in  the  text,— 
such  as  statements  of  late  and  early  dates  in  certain  pages  whose  relative  positions  appear  contra* 
dictory.  I  may  say,  too,  that  any  such  record  as  "  writing  a  chapter  in  61  h.  on  11  days  **  should 
not  be  construed  as  excluding  other  work  ;  for  on  those  same  days  I  may  have  devoted  nearly  as 
many  more  hours  to  correspondence,  proof-reading  and  the  like.  The  act  of  attaching  my  left- 
handed  signature  to  3368  "numbered  fly-leaves,  for  the  subscribers'  autograph  edition,"  reqnired 
36  h.  during  the  four  days  ending  with  Feb.  19 ;  and  in  reporting  this  to  the  Sfr.  Wk.  Gm*. 
for  Mch.  ("  Owed  to  Spring,"  p.  192)  I  announced  that  no  more  subscriptions  would  be  enrolled 
except  at  %%  50,  and  that  I  felt  fairly  confident  of  publishing  before  the  end  of  May. 


Work  of  the  Springfield 
Printing  Co, 


The  eariiest  forms  of  the  book  were  actually  put  to  pres 
Sept.  3,  '85,  and  334  pp.  were  printed  within  a  month,  330  pp.  by 
the  end  of  Dec,  and  $44  PP-  (first  34  forms)  early  in  Apr. ;  hot 
all  the  remaining  press-work  will  be  done  after  the  completion  of  the  final  plates.  Besides  the 
regular  ed.  of  6000,  there  are  300  impressions,  on  heavy  paper,  designed  for  buyers  who  mqr 
wish  to  indulge  in  a  handsome  binding.  These  sheets,  simply  folded  for  the  binder,  cost  the 
vune  as  cloth-bound  copies  of  the  ordinary  book ;  and  they  can  either  be  mailed  for  binding 
elsewhere,  or  be  bound  on  the  premises  for  any  one  who  may  make  a  bargain  as  to  style  and 
price  with  the  Springfield  Printing  Co.  In  regard  to  this  establishment,  it  seems  proper  for 
me  to  say  here,  that  I  have  employed  it  during  every  year  of  the  last  quarter-century  in  doing 
smaller  pieces  of  work  for  me,  and  that  I  expect  its  manufacture  of  my  book  will  be  completed 
as  satisfactorily  as  those  previous  things  have  been.  I  consider  myself  fortunate  in  the  fact 
that  its  superintendent,  H.  £.  Ducker  (see  biog.  on  p.  534),  is  enough  of  a  cycling  enthusiast 


Col,  Pop^s  reply  to 
second  proposal. 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT  jn 

to  take  a  penooal  pride  in  helping  ensure  the  typographic  excellence  of  tbia  book  which  will 
exhibit  the  finn's  work  to  cyclers  everywhere,  and  to  understand  and  make  allowance  for  the 
stress  of  circumstances  which  has  delayed  the  time  of  paying  for  it  so  far  beyond  the  implication 
of  the  contract.  I  suppose  that  any  metropolitan  firm,  capable  of  carrying  so  large  a  job,  would 
have  insisted  on  naming  specific  times  of  payment,  instead  of  letting  them  stand  related  to  an  in- 
definite pubhcation-day ;  and  I  am  thankful  to  have  escaped  the  troubles  which  any  such  cast-iron 
contract  might  readily  have  brought  upon  me.  The  anticipated  disadavantage  of  giving  orders 
andcorrectmg  proofs,  through  the  mails,  from  a  distance  of  140  m.,  I  have  found  to  be  largely 
imaginary.  In  April,  as  soon  as  the  first  544  pp.  were  printed,  I  sent  complimentary  copies 
(special  ed.)  to  English  and  Australian  editors,  who  had  subscribed,  and  to  a  few  others,  saying 
that  the  final  sheets  would  be  mailed  at  the  same  time  with  their  bound  books.  I  also  put  the 
sheeU  on  exhibition  with  certain  dealers  in  New  Y^ork,  Boston,  Newark  and  Orange.  About  ao 
advance  copies  were  given  out,  altogether ;  and  such  printed  notices  as  I  have  seen  concerning 
them  have  been  favorable.  One  of  the  English  recipients,  however,  wrote  to  me  thus:  "  I 
have  casually  glanced  through  the  first  portions  of  your  book,  and  I  much  fear  that,  at  any  rate 
on  this  side  of  the  water,  its  contents  will  be  voted  dull  and  uninteresting.  This  of  course  in 
oonfidence.''  His  words  recall  the  Londtm.  Examiner's  verdict  on  my  "  Four  Years  at  Yale  ": 
"A  dull,  stupid,  ill-written  book,  on  a  subject  which  might  have  been  made  highly  interesting." 
On  June  3,  I  mailed  the  544  pp.  to  Col.  Pope  (together  with  proofs 
of  frontispiece,  title-page  and  sub.  list  chapters),  and  proposed  that  the 
Pope  Mfg.  Co.  subscribe  for  1000  copies  at  %\  each.  I  argued  that 
they  could  be  quickly  sold  fur  $1500,  by  reason  of  the  unexampled  advertising  already  received; 
and  I  requested  that  a  decision  be  made  simply  on  the  merits  of  the  offer,  as  a  business  invest- 
ment, promising  a  ready  return  on  a  slight  risk.  I  asked  nothing  as  a  favor,  and  distinctly  dis- 
owned any  claim  of  inheritance  or  obligation  under  the  '83  agreement  about  buying  2000  books 
at  50  c.  each ;  but  I  felt  confident  that  the  ofFer  would  be  accepted.  The  actual  answer,  dated 
Boston,  June  5,  was  as  follows  :  "  Dear  Sir:  — It  is  now  two  years  and  a  half  since  you  pro- 
posed getting  out  your  book,  which  was  to  have  come  out  in  the  summer  of  '84.  It  has  taken 
so  long  to  get  the  book  out,  and  you  have  made  it  so  large  and  the  type  so  small,  that  I  think  it 
has  detracted  largely  from  the  interest  it  otherwise  would  have  had,  and  from  the  benefit  that 
we  would  have  received.  We  appreciate  your  bard  work,  but  we  are  sure  we  could  never  sell 
1000  copies  of  your  book,  on  which  you  think  we  could  make  ^500.  Even  if  we  sold  zooo,  it 
would  cost  a  great  deal  to  make  the  sale.  The  book  is  just  at  hand,  and  I  have  put  on  my 
strongest  glasses,  and  then  find  it  difficult  to  wade  through  a  single  page,  without  my  eyes  water- 
ing and  my  nerves  getting  out  of  order.  The  book,  it  seems  to  me,  will  only  be  used  as  a  mat- 
ter of  reference.  If  you  had  made  it  into  about  six  volumes,  with  larger  print,  I  should  have 
enjojred  it  better ;  and  still  better  if  you  had  boiled  the  whole  thing  down  into  one  volume  of 
coarse  print.  Do  not  think,  because  I  criticise,  that  I  do  not  appreciate  your  hard  work,  because 
I  do,  and  have  only  the  very  kindest  feelings  towards  you  ;  and  I  shall  be  willing  to  send  you 
a  check  for  $250,  and  in  exchange  shall  be  satisfied  to  receive  25  volumes ;  or  shall  be  satisfied 
to  have  you  keep  the  ^(250,  for  the  good  you  have  done  the  cause,  and  we  will  take  some  books 
on  consignment  here,  and  in  New  York  and  Chicago,  and  sell  them  for  you,  if  we  cat^  without 
any  commission.  I  think  this  arrangement  will  be  just  as  profitable  to  you  as  though  I  bought 
the  1000  volimies.  With  best  wishes,  I  am 

'*  Yours  very  truly,  Albbkt  A.  Pope,  Pres'l." 
The  foregoing  letter  was  a  genuine  surprise,  but  it  also  had 
genuine  vadue  to  me  as  an  "  eye-opener," — for  it  fixed  my  mind 
at  once  in  regard  to  the  methods  upon  which  I  must  rely  for 
forcing  a  sale  of  30,000  books.  By  demonstrating  the  difficulty  thereof,  it  supplied  the  best  pos- 
sible spur  for  driving  me  forward  to  "  conquer  the  impossible," — in  the  same  way  as  another 
Boston  roan's  friendly  warning,  that  I  could  not  get  300  subscribers,  served  as  my  chief  in- 
spiration in  getting  3300.  The  contrast  between  the  conduct  of  those  cycle  dealers  who  are  fu4 
named  in  my  "  trade  directory  "  (because  of  their  unwillingness  to  pledge  even  %z  for  my  scheme. 


Condemnation  from  com- 
petent judges. 


712  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

though  that  investment  would  directly  return  $3),  and  the  conduct  of  Col.  Pope,  in  offerixtg  me 
a  gift  of  1^250, — merely  on  general  principles  of  rewarding  energy  misapplied  in  a  good  cause, — 
is  a  contrast  whose  significance  needs  no  comment.  To  me,  however,  the  chief  importance  of 
the  offer  lies  in  its  showing  the  sincerity  of  his  belief  that,  from  a  business  point-of-view  my  en- 
terprise is  entirely  hopeless  and  visionary.  This,  be  it  remembered,  is  the  opinion  of  the  man 
most  competent  of  all  men  in  the  world  to  pronounce  an  accurate  and  impartial  judgment  on  its 
prospects, — the  man  who  will  be  profiled  more  than  any  one  else,  not  even  excepting  myself,  m 
case  I  succeed  in  demonstrating  that  that  judgment  was  wrong  I  He  stands  at  the  head  of  the 
world's  cycling  industry  because  of  the  exceptional  shrewdness  of  his  foresight ;  because  of  his 
willingness  to  stake  large  risks  on  remote  r&ults ;  and  because  of  his  sagacity  in  promoting  in- 
direct and  general  advertisements  which  help  the  whole  trade, — and  help  his  own  the  most,  merely 
because  his  share  of  the  whole  is  thi  largest.  For  these  reasons  I  expected,  in  spile  of  my  fail- 
ure to  overcome  the  apathy  of  the  lesser  tradesmen,  that  he  would  be  readily  won  to  my  theory, 
which  accounts  the  three  years'  labor  on  the  '*  subscribers'  autograph  edition  "  as  an  advertise- 
ment ensuring  a  quick  sale  for  ten  times  as  many  books.  But  his  letter  shows  the  adoption  of  an 
opposite  theory,  which  apparently  is  that  most  of  the  probable  purchasers  of  the  book  have 
already  been  worried  into  pledging  for  it,  or  else  have  grown  prejudiced  against  it  because  of  the 
long  delay, — so  that  there  is  no  hope  of  forcing  the  market  to  *'  absorb  "  anything  like  an  edi- 
tion of  30,000.  Similar  to  this  is  the  opinion  of  another  well-known  member  of  the  trade,  C  R. 
Zacharias,  of  Newark  (who  has  "  made  it  a  business  as  well  as  a  pleasure  to  pledge  100  names 
to  my  list," — or  more  than  have  been  put  there  by  any  one  else) ;  for  he  "  fears  the  field  is  less 
promising  than  three  years  ago,"  because  the  numerous  road-books  which  have  meanwhile  ap- 
peared seem  likely  to  diminish  the  demand  for  my  own.  Such,  then,  being  the  sentiments  <rf 
representative  men,  who  have  manifested  the  sincerest  desire  to  push  my  scheme  forward,  I 
record  them  here  as  an  impressive  proof  that  "  the  trade  "  in  general  look  upon  it  as  having  ma 
the  ghost  of  a  show  of  financial  success.  Its  foredoomed  failure.  In  the  mind  of  every  dealer 
who  reflects  at  all  about  the  result,  seems  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff. 


Harmlessness  of  my 
^^  Columbia  "  adv. 


My  reply  to  Col.  Pope's  propxtsat  admitted  that  it  was,  on  its  \axx. 
more  advantageous  to  me  than  an  out-and-out  acceptance  of  my 
off^r, — for  his  gift  of  $250  would  just  about  equal  what  was  then  my 
prospective  margin  of  profit  in  letting  him  have  the  1000  books  at  the  subscription-rate,— while 
the  chance  which  I  had  thus  t).f  ered  him  for  making  $500,  by  retailing  them,  would  then  accrue 
to  myself  besides.  But  I  declined  it,  as  inconsistent  with  my  plan  of  seeking  a  profit  solely  from 
actual  sales  of  the  book;  and  said  I  preferred  to  supply  him  with  250  copies  at  %i  each,  and  to 
avail  myself  of  his  New  York  office  only,  as  a  distributing  agency.  He  cheerfully  consented  to 
this,  but  the  number  of  my  pages  so  increased  that,  in  Oct.,  when  I  saw  there  could  be  but  a 
nominal  profit  in  supplying  them  at  Ji,  I  threw  up  the  bargain  and  arranged  that  the  Pope  Mfg. 
Co.  should  simply  keep  the  books  on  sale  for  me,  without  commission,  at  its  offices  in  Boston. 
New  York  and  Chicago.  I  ask  this  same  favor  of  every  cycling  agency  in  the  country,  no  more 
and  no  less ;  and  purchasers  of  my  book  at  any  such  place  may  know  that  they  put  the  entire 
profit  into  my  pocket  as  surely  as  if  they  made  a  direct  remittance.  I  prefer  indeed  that  these 
agencies  "should  be  patronized,  whenever  practicable,  as  a  means  of  avoiding  the  risk,  trouUe 
and  expense  of  resorting  to  the  mails ;  but  I  wish  each  one  who  thus  bujrs  the  book  indirectly 
would  afterwards  file  with  me  his  name  and  address,  even  though  he  may  not  care  to  send  an  ex- 
pression of  opinion  also.  Until  the  end  of  '87  at  least,  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  cash  orders  for 
books  sent  direct  to  Springfield  Printing  Co.,  instead  of  to  myself;  for  books  will  usually  be 
mailed  from  S. ,  even  when  ordered  from  me  in  N.  Y.  On  Feb.  4,  '84,  when  the  Cunningham 
Co.  was  the  chief  business  competitor  of  the  Popes,  the  following  note  was  sent  to  me  by  the 
firm's  junior  partner,  F.  W.  Weston  :  "Although  your  book  seems  likely — with  its  '  234  Co- 
lumbia* allusions — 10  be  one  of  the  most  valuable  free  advs.  they  ever  received,  I  feel  sure  its 
value  in  general  will  be  none  the  less  on  that  account,  and  I  shall  deem  it  a  privilege  if  you  will 
put  me  down  for  5  copies."  Quoting  this  in  my  "  Wheel  Extra  of  Feb.  22,"  as  a  means  of 
urging  other  dealers  to  adopt  the  same  liberal  opinion,  I  said  :    "I  never  yet  spoke  a  word,  or 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.         713 

'wrote  a  «ord|  or  printed  a  word,  in  praise  of  the  Columbia  bicycle,  to  the  prejudice  or  disparage- 
ment of  any  other  manufacture.  I  never  intend  to.  When  people  ask  my  advice  about  the 
relative  merits  of  different  machines,  I  tell  them  it  is  a  subject  about  which  1  know  nothing  and 
caue  nothing.  Aa  I  lack  the  mechanical  aptitude  to  fonn  an  intelligent  and  authoritative  opinion 
on  the  matter,  I  never  pronounce  an  opinion.  All  I  say  is  that  any  kind  of  a  bicycle  is  good 
enough  for  me,  and  that  I  naturally  stuck  to  the  first  one  which  I  happened  to  get  astride  of ; 
but  I  do  not  recommend  other  people  to  follow  my  example  in  that  respect,  or  in  any  other." 
The  foregoing  words  are  still  true ;  and  I  wish  to  remind  every  tradesman  who  is  disposed  to 
begrudge  the  adv.  which  must  needs  accrue  to  the  J^opes  from  the  fact  of  my  having  ridden  a 
Columbia,  that  my  entire  inexperience  wuh  any  other  machine  robs  the  adv.  of  power  to  injure 
any  other,  and  reduces  the  value  of  the  adv.  to  the  lowest  possible  terms.  My  case  is  utterly 
difiFerent  from  that  of  a  man  who  proclaims  that,  "  having  thoroughly  tried  all  the  rival  makes, 
he  settled  down  on  a  Columbia  as  *  the  best,*  and  has  already  ridden  it  25,000  m.,  at  a  cost  of 
only  25^  c.  for  oil  and  repairs."  On  the  contrary,  this  book  proclaims  the  defects  and  repairs 
and  necessary  expenses  of  my  machine,  with  a  scientific  exhaustiveness  never  bestowed  upon 
any  other ;  and  a  very  plausible  argument  against  the  Columbia's  reputation  might  be  made  by 
reproducing,  outside  of  their  connection,  all  the  damaging  facts  recorded  against  "  No.  234," 
on  pp.  3SmS.  I  feel  sure,  therefore,  that  if  my  10,000  m.  had  been  measured  on  an  English 
bicycle,  Col.  Pope's  support  of  my  publishing  scheme  in  '83,  and  his  present  offer  to  help  sell 
the  actual  book,  would  have  been  just  exactly  as  liberal ;  and  so  I  ask  the  friends  of  all  rival 
machines  also  to  help  sell  it,  on  its  merits  as  an  aid  to  the  spread  of  their  business.  I  ask  them  to 
recognize  its  value  as  an  honest  advertisement  of  the  superiority  of  bicycling  to  all  other  modes 
of  travel ;  and  to  banish  the  false  idea  that  it  is  planned  for  the  praise  of  any  style  of  bicycle. 

I  have  said  on  p.  47  that  when  my  old  wheel  had  become 
so  worn  by  tise  and  broken  by  accident  as  to  discourage  my  plan 
of  rebuilding,  I  decided  to  liave  another  built  as  nearly  like  it 
as  possible  ;  and  the  makers  were  well  aware  that  I  intended  to  pay  the  full  price  for  it  in  cash, 
jost  as  I  had  paid  in  the  first  case.  They  had  no  motive,  therefore,  of  '*  hiring  me  to  ride  a 
Columbia,"  or  to  be  partial  to  their  interests,  when  they  accepted  my  offer  to  pay  for  the  new 
wheel  by  presenting  them  with  the  old.  They  accepted  it  simply  because  old  *'  No.  234  "  was 
worth  more  to  them,  for  exhibition  purposes,  as  a  strictly  legitimate  adv. ,  than  the  money  I 
should  otherwise  have  paid  them  for  "  No.  234,  Jr."  My  pushing  it  "  xo,ooo  m.  through  24 
States  and  Provinces,"  and  writing  so  much  to  arouse  public  curiosity  in  its  individuality,  had 
conferred  upon  it  a  factitious  value ;  and  I  was  quite  justified  in  selling  it  at  that  value  to  those 
who  could  profit  by  it.  I  wouldn't  have  sold  it  to  any  one  else  for  a  dollar  less.  I  wouldn't 
have  sold  it  at  all,  In  fact,  without  the  assurance  that  it  should  be  preserved  for  a  public  relip. 
As  the  first  bicycle  in  America  to  traverse  10,000  m., — as  the  first  bicycle  in  the  world  to  make 
a  straightaway  trail  of  1400  m., — ^it  certainly  has  more  value  to  the  makers  than  the  newest 
machine  in  their  shop  ;  and  there  rests  on  me  not  the  shadow  of  an  obligation  towards  them, 
by  reason  of  this  transaction,  or  by  reason  of  any  other.  I  am  quite  as  free  to  speak  my  mind 
about  the  Pope  of  Boston  as  about  the  Pope  of  Rome.  I  have  a  sincere  respect  for  each,  as 
men  eminently  sagacious  in  discovering  the  side  on  which  their  own  bread  is  buttered ;  but  I 
humbly  hope  the  success  of  my  present  scheme  may  be  striking  enough  to  show  that,  as  regards 
the  possibilities  of  the  book-business,  I  have  power  to  "  give  points  "  to  both  of  them  !  When 
the  30,000  copies  shall  have  been  sold,  if  Col.  Pope  and  the  lesser  leaders  of  the  trade  choose 
to  publicly  present  me  with  a  purse  of  |l  10,000,  or  $5000,  or  even  $1000,  "  as  a  slight  token  of 
their  appreciation  of  what  its  sale  has  done  for  them,"  they  may  rest  assured  i  shall  have  no 
scruple  about  publicly  accepting  it. 

Obkctions  to  srift- 1         ^"*' '"  *^^"**  °^  '***  ^'**^^»  ^  consider  any  gift  improper,— no  matter 

*^**^  kindly  and  squarely  intended.     I  believe  it  essential  not  only  that  I 

ta/ttng,  I  g)|o„]  j  \^  independent,  but  also  that  I  should  seem  to  be  so, — even  to  the 

meanest  and  most  sordid  of  minds.     No  one  can  pretend  that  the  acceptance  of  either  my  '83 

offer  (which  alkiwed  a  retail  profit  of  100  per  cent.,  and  was  accepted)  or  of  my  '86  offer  (which 


Independence  of  all  Popes 
and  powers. 


714         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


allowed  50  per  cent,  for  such  profit,  and  was  dedined)  oould  not  seem  worth 
ordinary  business  chance ;  but,  as  I  suppose  there  is  about  one  man  in  100  small  *'«wMn;b  to 
think  that  the  offered  gift  of  $250  was  designed  to  fetter  me  in  some  way,  I  would  rduae  it  on 
his  account,  if  for  no  other.  In  similar  spirit,  let  me  confess  for  the  benefit  of  any  one  wbo 
thinks  my  praises  of  the  Lamson  luggage-carrier  may  have  been  influenced  by  my  arf*yi;i^ 
from  the  inventor  thereof  a  free  sample  of  each  variety,  that  I  did  so  accept  them  (for  tbcy  woe 
tendered  to  me  under  such  circumstances  that  a  refusal  would  have  amounted  almost  u>  iwiD- 
n«»),  though  I  paid  for  the  third  specimen  which  I  now  have  in  use.  As  regards  my  WMieiy- 
advertised  opinion  of  it,  as  "  the  best  thing  of  the  sort  ever  devised,"  the  date,  '8a,  ought  inop- 
erly  to  be  attached,— for  several  other  good  devices  havs  since  come  into  the  market,  and  I  do 
not  pretend  to  know  anything  against  their  comparative  merits.  At  the  outset  of  my  Kentucky 
tour,  in  '82  (p.  235),  another  acquaintance  of  mine,  with  whom  I  had  "  shared  my  last  lenMO,** 
two  years  before  Q).  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  cbe 
Pope  cydom.  on  my  axle."  The  test  proved  its  worthlessness ;  but  I  have  often  reoommended 
the  McDonnell,  since  then,  because  of  its  low  price  and  because  of  its  maker's  wiUiqgncss  10 
exchange  defective  spedmens  until  a  good  oue  is  finally  found.  If  any  one  thinks  my  acxJon  in 
this  respect  has  been  affected  at  all  by  the  worthless  gift  of  'Sa,  I  grant  him  the  liberty  of  that 
opinion.  I  specify  these  two  examples,  trivial  though  they  seem,  in  order  the  more  impreasivdy 
to  declare  that  I  have  taken  no  other  gifts  of  any  sort.  Whatever  things  I  have  wanted  in  faky- 
ding,  I  have  bought  and  paid  for ;  and  such  other  things  as  have  been  tendered  to  me  I  have 
respectfully  dedined.  I  have  twice  offered  to  test  new  styles  of  cydometers,  ami  publicly 
report  my  caref 111  observations  (and  I  hereby  make  the  offer  a  general  one) ;  but  the  two  maken 
did  not  consent.  A  third  style  I  tested,  at  the  maker's  request,  and  then  returned  it  to  him  as 
unsatisfactory,  though  accurate.  I  am  consdous,  therefore,  of  no  other  motive  or  inqitratioa 
than  a  simple  desire  to  tell  the  truth,  in  any  words  of  praise  or  blame  which  I  have  printed  ia 
this  book.  In  statements  of  fact,  I  have  tried  to  be  colorless,  and  I  have  suppressed  nothing. 
In  references  to  machines,  I  have  mentioned  the  maker  whenever  known  to  me.  In  qooia- 
tions  from  journals,  I  have  given  date  and  page.  In  all  cases  where  a  record  of  full  1 
address  and  price  seemed  appropriate  or  useful,  I  have  taken  pains  to  freely  advertise  the  1 
My  refusal  to  admit  paid  advertisements  was  a  pledge  of  in 
tiality  which  seemed  needed  for  the  attraction  of  subscribers',  but, 
besides  its  effect  in  convindng  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  such  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  hdp  from  the  same  in  pushiog  future' 
sales,  I  trust  this  truth  has  been  shown :  that  the  main  chance  of  any  reward  comix^  to  me, 
from  three  years'  work  and  risk,  now  depends  upon  the  amount  of  good-wiU  and  enthusiasm 
which  the  book  may  be  able  to  arouse  in  its  3000  subscribers.  I  have  served  as  their  adf-ap- 
puinted  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  bdp- 
ing  ensure  the  enormous  sale  now  needed  to  pay  me  for  thus  serving  them.  By  exhibttiiv  the 
volume  to  librarians,  hotd-keepers  and  cycling  acquaintances,  they  may  advertise  it  in  a  more 
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  commbsaoos 
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  cyclem.  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  <>f  it.  I  ask  every  sudi  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 


Need  0/ private  help 
and  criticisms. 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT  715 


that  I  publish  none  of  his  renwlGiy  ercn  aiKmymously,  I  will  respect  that  also ;  but  I  wish 
none  the  less  to  pirt  thein  on  file.  I  specially  mye  that  enpore  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  executipn,  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  roe  a 
^raluable  warning  of  what  to  avoid  in  my  next  attempt  to  placate  the  same  patrons.  There  are 
three  qoestioos  in  particular,  which  I  should  like  to  have  a  laige  vote  cast  upon,  as  a  means  of 
iafbrmiog  me  whether  sxibacribers  think  that  the  great  size  of  the  book  atones  for  its  long  delay ; 
that  the  three  extraneous  chapters  are  amu^ng  enough  to  justify  insertion ;  and  that  my  attempt 
at  porsuading  3000  strangers  to  serve  as  volunteer  book-4(gents  is  likely  to  succeed.  As  I  have 
shown  that  the  plates  for  first  si  diapters  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  (July*  '85),  rather  than  give  it  to  you 
now,  so  many  months  later,  completed  to  more  than  double  the  size  ?  "  As  I  have  shown  that 
Chaps.  27,  38  and  29— which  add  82  pp.  without  adding  any  roadrinformation  at  all— cost  306  h. 
of  work,  and  a  delay  of  a  mos.,  my  second  question  is :  "  Does  their  insertion  repay  you  for 
that  delay,  and  does  it  seem  likely  to  be  e£Eective  as  a  trick  for  arousing  outsiders'  curiosity  in 
bicycling?"  Finally,  I  ask  :  "  Are  yon  interested  in  this  present  chapter's  attempt  to  take 
yna  into  my  confidence  concemiiig  the  origin  and  growth  of  the  book,  the  plans  for  ensuring  its 
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  appeal  to  the  special 
sympathy  of  cyclers,  for  putting  money  in  my  purse  ?  " 


Costs  and  conditions  of 
road-book  making. 


My  labor  and  risk  as  "  publisher  "  are  what  I  seek  pay  for,— 
not  my  writings  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  Les^e's  official  road-books; 
or  for  use  by  a  private  publi^er  like  mysell  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  5000.  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  cam  his  livelihood  in 
any  other  way.  The  book  of  impersonal  statistics,  and  the  book  of  narrated  observations  con- 
nected \yj  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 
kxal  road-books  and  guide-books  of  all  regions  where  he  travels ;  and  I  feel  sure  that  this  vol.  of 
mine  will  stimulate  cather  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 
<if  careful  reports  for  Hunt,  A  tourist  feels,  as  regards  the  latter,  that  his  stoiy  roust  capture  all 
its  readers  within  a  single  week,  and  hence  can  do  very  little  permanent  good  to  the  cause  l 


7i6  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

while,  as  regards  the  former,  his  patriotism  may  not  be  equal  to  the  strain  of  suppressing  all  in* 
cident  and  individuality  for  the  greater  glory  of  pore  statistics.  But  even  if  tourists  would  vritc 
an  abundance  of  good  road-reports  for  a  given  journal,  any  attempt  to  print  them,  as  an  exds- 
sive  or  controlling  feature,  would  quickly  prove  fatal  to  its  prosperity.  My  history  cf  cycfing 
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  bt- 
ter  could  make  money.  Races  possess  .the  element  of  "  newrs,"  and  tours  do  not.  Heoor, 
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  r^anli 
it  as  a  very  dull  pastime, — until  he  once  tries  it.  I  suppose  there  are  a  few  writers  who  cookl 
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.  IVheeiman,  Aug.,  *S6,  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  oodd 
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  ebe  «4io 
possesses  it.  I  simply  claim  for  myself  that  a  quarter-century's  training  as  "  a  saapper-iq>  el 
unconsidered  trifles,"  has  given  me  a  certain  exceptional  skill  for  editing  and  comptting  road-re- 
ports, in  a  concise  and  instructive  manner  which  is  calculated  to  please  bicyde  tourists.  li  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. 


Proposals  for  **Afy  Second 
Ten  Thousand:' 


My  painstaking  style  of  compilation  is  shown  in  Chaps. 

30-32 ;  and  I  have  said  that  those  (pp.  473-554)  cost  me  2  laos. 

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  sut»criber 
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  fnU 
fill  them.  A  similar  remark  will  apply  to  various  other  features  of  the  book,  which  I  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  \p  "  getting  to  the  end."  Yet  even  my  actaai 
speed  would  have  been  impossible,  save  under  the  inspiration  of  seeing  my  chapters  go  iitto 
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  price  for 
it,  and  beginning  to  print,  before  the  whole  is  written ;  but  it  is  evident  tliat  my  own  could  have 
been  produced  in  no  other  way.  The  bigness  of  it,  too,  seems  a  sort  of  business  necessity,  for 
an  adv.;  because,  since  1  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  attention. 
Similarly,  I  felt  forced  to  collect  and  print  all  the  "wheeling  biographies"  within  reach,  in 
order  to  show  that  my  own  biography  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,- 1  pJan  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  puck- 
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; 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  717 

to  exclude  all  advertisements ;  to  issue  it  in  1890 ;  and  to  sell  it  for  |(x.so, — except  to  those  who 
g^ve  me  50  c.  worth  of  "  moral  support  *'  by  pledging  %\  in  advance.  Perhaps  I  may  print  an 
alphabetical  list  of  such  supporters ;  but  I  do  not  promise  it,  or  promise  any  other  "  frills  '* 
^vhich  might  get  me  into  trouble.  Every  reader  whom  the  present  vol.  pleases,  enough  to  make 
him  wish  to  encourage  me  in  producing  another  one  of  similar  style,  is  hereby  invited  to  pledge 
%%  for  "  My  Se(»nd  Ten  Thousand"  (or,  for  short,  "  2  X.  M.'*),  as  outlined  above,  with  the 
understanding  that  he  can  revoke  the  pledge  at  pleasure,  and  that,  if  the  actual  book  shall  not 
please  him,  he  can  return  it  instead  of  paying  for  it.  Thus,  by  incurring  a  merely  nominal  ob- 
ligation, which  any  change  of  will  must  release,  he  can  help  me  to  decide  whether  it  is  worth 
while  to  attempt  a  second  experiment  as  a  publisher.  I  shall  be  glad  to  receive  suggestions 
and  opinions,  as  to  what  ought  to  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)  used  in  the  present  one. 


Request  for  personal 
statistics. 


All  persons  who  have  kept  a  wheeling  record  by  cyclom.,  during 
'86,  in  any  part  of  the  world,  are  requested  to  send  the  same  to  me, 
early  in  '87,  no  matter  if  it  only  amounts  to  500  m.  I  wish  to  have 
their  mileage  g^ven  by  months;  an  estimate  of  the  year*s  "separate  miles  of  road/'  as  distin- 
guished from  miles  of  repetition  on  the  same  road ;  a  report  of  all  tours  of  150  m.  or  more  (with 
details,  in  cases  of  American  roads  not  commonly  traversed  or  described),  and  name  of  cyclom., 
with  facts  and  opinions  about  its  merits  and  faults.  Indeed,  of  all  cycloms. ,  used  in  his  previous 
years,  I  ask  each  reporter  to  tell  every  detail  he  can,  good  or  bad,  for  I  want  to  make  an  ex- 
haustive chapter  of  testimony  on  that  subject.  The  amount  of  it  already  contributed  to  these 
pages,  by  many  observers,  the  index  shows  to  bs  greater  than  exists  elsewhere  ;  and  the  rea- 
sons why  such  testimony  cannot  appear  in  the  cycling  press  may  be  found  in  the  Bullet h^s  report 
(Sept.  18,  *86,  p.  304)  of  the  League  officers'  discussion  which  led  them  to  reaffirm  the  policy  of 
"avoiding  trouble  with  advertisers,"  by  excluding  all  mention  of  their  wares  from  the  literary 
columns  of  that  paper.  Every  American  who  has  ridden  100  m.  of  separate  road  in  24  h.  (either 
straightaway  or  in  a  circuit),  or  25  m.  straightaway  without  dismount ;  or  who  has  taken  a  tour 
of  500  m.,  or  a  straightaway  tour  of  250  m.,  or  who  has  explored  100  m.  of  unreported  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  back  references.  Contributors  of  such  special  reports,  and  of  gen- 
eral mileage  records  for  'S6,  are  invited  to  observe  the  following  rules  :  Write  on  only  one  side 
of  paper;  begin  first  page  with  full  name  and  residence,  occupation  or  profession,  and  exact 
date  of  birth  (place  of  it,  also,  when  different  from  residence) ;  give  date  of  learning  to  ride, 
sixc  and  make  of  wheels  ridden,  and  approximate  mileage  of  each  ;  also  annual  mileage  previous 
to  '86,  or  previous  to  tlie  date  of  the  event  reported.  The  foregoing  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  way  for  him  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 
that  sort  of  information  about  every  point,  which  I  myself  would  gladly  have  had  in  advance. 
The  dates  of  tours  are  important  because  road-surface  varies  in  different  years  and  seasons. 
Condition  of  wind  and  weather  deserves  mention  in  reporting  long  straightaway  stays  in  saddle 
or  24  h.  rides.  1  value  such  things  not  as  exploits,  but  as  brief  statements  of  the  goodness  of 
the  roads.  If  a  skilful  rider  can  cover  a  given  25  m.  of  ground  without  stop,  the  same  must  be 
fairly  ridable  by  every  one.  If  he  can  cover  a  given  100  m.  in  24  h.,  every  one  else  can  easily 
get  over  the  same  in  2  or  3  days.  Hence,  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  told  of  long  stretches  of  country 
which  ctin  be  covered  without  dismount,  even  though  the  reporter  may  not  have  done  so  in 
fact.  So  far  as  concerns  reports  of  annual  mileage,  the  older  a  man  is,  the  more  desirous  I 
am  of  filing  his  statistics.  1  wish,  by  collecting  a  lot  of  these,  to  show  about  how  much  time 
the  average  man  of  35  or  40,  absorbed  by  business  cares,  gives  to  wheel  exercise.  Records  of 
the  younger  and  more  active  are  also  welcomed,  of  course ;  but  I  want  to  make  clear  the  tntth 
that  a  mileage  need  not  be  of  exceptional  size,  or  go  up  into  the  thousands,  in  order  to  serve  my 


7i8         TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

purpose.  So  few  riders  use  cyclometers,  dnt  there  is  no  danger  of  my  being  ovvrvrhdmed  by 
the  multitude  of  replies.  Men  whose  records  appear  in  this  book  are  urged  to  oorred  then  for 
me  at  the  close  of  '86,  and  give  birthdays,  if  not  already  given.  AU  correspondents  who  ooy 
refuse  the  latter  request  will  please  say  "age  dedined,"  in  order  to  show  that  the  omissaoa 
is  intentional.  All  who  object  to  having  their  contributions,  or  parts  thereof,  printed  ni  cyriaag 
press,  or  in  any  particular  paper,  in  advance  of  insertion  in  "  a  X.  M.,"  will  pleaae  ao  spedfy. 
Otherwise,  I  shall  feel  free  to  put  them  to  such  preliminary  use. 


Hints  to  authors  and 
publishers. 


"  Reciprocation,"  I  trust,  will  be  the  mle  adopted  tofwanls  mt 
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  umilar  treatmeat 
to  all  cycling  books  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  errors  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  issoed. 
If  my  prospective  adv.  thereof,  in  cycling  press  and  later  eds.,  does  not  seem  worth  the  trouble, 
I  si^gest  that  at  least  the  thle-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  pnblisheis  of  goide-books,  m^s  and 
pictures  which  may  be  assumed  to  have  a  special  interest  to  wheelmen.  I  assnre  every  cyde 
dealer  who  sends  me  his  catalogue  or  price-list  that  it  shall  be  carefully  preserved ;  bat  I  hope 
nothing  of  the  sort  will  hereafter  be  printed  which  does  not  at  least  freely  reproduce  the  wofds 
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.  drculari 
of  new  cycling  books,  which  are  small  and  light  enough  to  be  easily  folded  m  my  own  drcnlars 
without  an  increase  of  postage,  I  am  willing  to  freely  distribute  thus, — and  I  shall  he  spedaDy 
"  willing  "  if  a  brief  adv.  of  my  ovm  book  be  first  printed  on  the  margin.  Writers  who  use 
pseudonyms  in  the  cycling  press  are  invited  to  help  me  compile  a  list  thereof  for  publicatioo,— 
appending  to  each  the  owner's  real  name,  the  date  of  his  birth,  the  meaning  of  the  nomdt  ptmmt^ 
if  it  has  any,  and  the  dates  of  its  adoption  and  use. 

There  are  not  many  )oumaIists-of-the-wheel  tuwjuJs  whom,  at 
this  late  day,  it  seems  needful  that  I  should  shout  the  slogan  of  the 
Siddairs  soap  advertiser  :  "  Don't  be  a  dam  I  "  There  are  not  many 
whose  minds  run  in  a  groove  of  such  case-hardened  impenetrability  to  new  ideas  as  utterly  to  <taiy 
the  existence  of  a  '*  certain  something  "  in  my  scheme  which  lifts  it  a  little  above  the  common, 
and  demands  for  it  a  somewhat  exceptional  treatment.  Yet  it  is  fitting  that  I  shooM  formalaic 
the  logic  of  my  position  with  a  plainness  that  can  leave  no  pretext  for  misrepresenting  it,— even 
to  the  stupidest  of  mortals.  Let  me  then  declare,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  vital  objecrion  to  what 
is  called  "  free  advertising  "  {i.  /.,  an  interpolation,  amid  a  journal's  ordinary  reading-matter,  of 
facts  and  opinions  designed  to  further  some  private  scheme  or  interest)  is  its  usual  lad  of  the 
"  readable  "  quality.  Readers  are  not  interested  in  such  stuff,  because  its  boastfulness  offendi 
their  sense  of  justice.  They  instinctively  resent  self-praise ;  and  a  covert  attempt  of  Smith  to 
wheedle  them  into  the  belief  that  his  wares  are  better  than  the  similar  ones  of  Brown,  is  eapc> 
cially  obnoxious.  No  one  likes  puffery  or  attempted  deception ;  and  I  think  tradesmen  often 
make  a  mistake,  even  in  their  big-type  advs.,  in  trifling  with  the  intelligence  of  possible  patrons, 
by  speaking  too  well  of  themselves.  But  no  such  mistake  has  been  made  by  me  in  ray  three 
years'  tiresome  campaign  as  a  free  advertiser ;  and  it  will  not  be  made  in  the  future.  I  have 
tried  to  arouse  public  attention  and  curiosity  by  ringing  all  possible  changes  on  the>SBe<r  of  the 
case ;  but  I  have  printed  not  a  line  in  praise  of  the  scheme,  nor  have  I  sought  to  inspire  snch 
printing  by  others.  Indeed,  by  preference,  I  would  have  suppressed  certain  flattery  which  othen 
have  volunteered  to  print.  Sincere  praise  is  always  sweet  to  the  object  of  it ;  bat  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  an  uncritical  promulgation  thereof  is  good  business  policy.  The  Athenians  got  tired  of 
hearing  their  great  geoeial  and  law-giver,  Aristides,  everiastingly  adled  "  the  Jnat,"  tbov«fa  they 


The  cycling  press  and 
its  ''free  adv," 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEX^T.  719 

never  qnestioned  the  troth  6i  the  epithet,  and  were  quite  willing  to  provide  for  the  family  whom 
lie  left  without  money  enough  to  even  pay  for  his  funend.  Hence,  though  I  shall  be  bound  to  cir- 
culate, as  a  bait  for  buyers,  various  favorable  "  press  notices  "  which  I  assume  this  book  has 
power  to  call  out,  I  shall  uke  good  care  to  temper  such  praises  by  circulating  alongside  them  the 
censures  which  may  be  pronmmced  upon  it.  These  are  apt  to  be  more  interesting,  because  more 
sincere  and  pointed  and  significant,  than  mere  laudation.  According  to  my  conception  of  the 
human  mind,  incisive  fault-finding  and  sharply-worded  criticism  of  details,  have  greater  power  of 
provoking  curiosity,  and  thereby  attracting  purchasers,  than  the  most  lavish  use  of  commendatory 
superlatives  whose  glitter  is  entirely  general.  A  conventional  phrase*  of  approval,  like  "the 
best  book  of  its  class  ever  published,"  falls  on  the  ear  with  a  dull,  sickening  thud,  and  is  then 
forgonen  ;  but  a  smart  sarcasm,  as  to  "  the  author's  absurdity  in  devoting  a  large  part  of  p.  az 
to  the  '  mileage '  of  his  various  pairs  of  stockings,"  sticks  to  a  man's  consciousness,  and  helps 
worry  him  into  a  belief  that  he  must  ultimately  look  up  that  absurd  page  with  his  own  eyes. 
Therefore,  I  say  to  cyding  editors,  as  I  have  said  to  my  subscribers,  that  a  minute  exposition 
of  the  book's  faults  will  please  me  better  than  a  vague  mention  of  its  merits ;  but  I  hope  every 
such  exposition  will  be  accompanied  by  the  remark  (assuming  the  editor  so  believes)  that, 
•*  in  spite  of  these  faults,  the  book  is  well  worth  its  price."  I  hope  each  editor  who  quotes 
even  briefly  from  the  book  will  give  exact  credit,  by  title  and  page,  in  preference  to  an  indirect 
adcnowledgment ;  and  will  append  price  and  publisher's  address  to  long  extracts,  whenever  the 
proprieties  of  the  case  allow.  It  will  be  seen  that  I  have  observed  this  rule  in  my  treatment  of 
the  cycling  papers ;  and  I  ask  all  publishers  thereof,  who  have  not  yet  adopted  the  plan  of  send- 
ing me  complimentary  copies,  to  consider  the  probable  advantage  to  themselves  of  doing  so. 
Every  such  journal  which  comes  to  me  is  carefully  read,  indexed  and  permanently  filed  for 
reference ;  and  whenever  occasion  arrives  for  incorporating  these  references  into  an  article,  I 
give  due  credit.  Thus,  if  Wheeling  gets  a  more  frequent  free  adv.  in  this  book  than  any  other 
English  paper,  it  is  because  no  other  has  been  regularly  filed  for  my  use ;  but  such  adv.  repre- 
sents no  partiality  or  pufiFery.  It  is  given  in  the  natural  course  of  business ;  because  I  must 
needs  employ  the  material  nearest  at  hand, — and  "  all  is  fish  which  comes  to  my  net."  Pub- 
lishers who  may  not  care  to  supply  me  whh  complete  files  are  invited  to  send  me  occasional 
numbers,  containing  special  features  which  they  think  worthy  of  attention. 

"  Enlightened  selfishness  "  is  the  sentiment  which  I  wish 
should  govern  the  cycling  press  in  its  treatment  of  myself.  If 
the  editors  think  this  scheme  of  persuading  3000  strangers  to 
aell  30,000  books  for  my  private  gain,  is  suffidently  preposterous  to  be  of  public  interest,  I  ask 
them  to  proclaim  the  various  tricks  and  devices  which  I  may  employ  in  pushing  %— provided 
thai  my  statement  0/ those  things  he  put  together  in  a  way  considered  "  readable.^*  I  ask  that 
such  writing  of  mine  be  judged  simply  on  its  merits  for  arousing  people's  interest,— the  same 
as  any  other.  If  I  have  literary  capacity  enough  to  concoct  an  adv.  which  can  amuse  a  paper's 
patrons,  I  say  it  is  bad  policy  to  deprive  them  of  it,  merely  on  the  ground  that  their  amusement 
may  have  the  remote  effect  of  putting  money  in  my  purse.  I  don't  know  that  I  have  such 
capacity  :  I  merely  ask  editors  to  judge  whether  I  seem  to  have  it  in  any  spedmen  "  free  adv." 
which  T  may  submit  for  their  approval,  and  to  let  their  approval  depend  upon  that  judgment. 
I  insist  that  such  approval  cannot  "  establish  a  bad  precedent."  It  cannot  drive  away  "  pay- 
ing advertisers,"  nor  increase  their  hunger  for  "reading  notices."  My  scheme  conflicts  with 
no  other,  and  discriminates  against  no  other.  The  facts  and  incidents  attending  the  progress 
of  it  may  not  be  capable  of  presentation  in  such  shape  as  to  fascinate  the  entire  wheel-world ; 
but  the  chance  that  a  section  thereof  may  be  interested  therein,  as  much  as  another  section 
may  be  interested  in  the  record  of  how  Jones  beat  Robinson  on  the  race-track,  is  at  least  worth 
the  editors'  considering.  They  should  consider,  too,  that  I  have  refrained  from  trying  to  take 
the  bread  out  of  their  mouths  by  selling  any  part  of  this  book  to  advertisers,  or  by  starting  a  rival 
trade-drcuTar  "  devoted  to  touring."  Still  further,  if  I  freely  contribute  to  their  columns  road- 
reports  and  personal  sketches  which  I  have  persliaded  wheelmen  to  contribute  for  my  second 
book,  and  which  I  have  laboriously  recast  into  proper  shape  for  the  press,  is  it  not  just  that  the 


Tlu  doctrine  0/ intelligent 
selfishness. 


How  I  got  leisure 
for  touring. 


720  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

editors  should  help  repay  me  by  allowing  an  advertising  tag  tacked  on  to  such  contiibutiais  ? 
Finally,  as  regards  the  official  organ  of  the  League, — since  I  have  mentioned  sonoe  ho&tility  as 
once  shown  me  there  because  of  my  non-membership, — it  seems  fitting  to  present  a  ^)cciai 
argument  which  cannot  apply  to  the  other  papers.  Though  I  might  plausibly  claim  that  iis 
"amateur  definition  "  renders  a  "  professional  "  like  myself  ineligible  to  membership,  I  prefo- 
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  ofEered  to  "  swap  advertising  space  *'  with 
the  Bulletin,  page  for  page,  no  doubt  I  could  have  done  so ;  but  the  business  ralue  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  sk 
under  a  formal  contract.  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  the  Bulletin's  past  treatment  of  me,  nor 
fears  of  unfairness  in  its  future  treatment ;  but  I  wish  to  provide  in  advance  against  any  senti- 
mental 6>nfusion  of  ideas  about  facts  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  1 
wish  each  member  to  see  clearly  that  the  League,  as  a  business  institution,  is  bound  to  sui^xvt 
me  without  any  swerving  from  the  rule  of  "  enlightened  self-interest." 

"Mister,  you  must  be  all-fired  rich;  ain't  you,  now?*'  is  a  qoes- 
tion  recorded  in  one  of  Kirk  Munroe's  canoeing  sketches  (If'Arr/auJt, 
Dec,  '83,  p.  220),  as  put  by  a  specially  blunt  and  inquisitive  rustic  to  a 
young  city  man,  who  in  fact  eanied  a  precarious  livelihood  at  newspaper  work.  It  was  his 
ownership  of  a  $150  canoe,  in  which  he  presumed  to  take  a  brief  vacation  voyage,  that  thus  in- 
flamed the  rural  imagination  into  glorifying  him  as  a  millionaire ;  and  the  glitter  of  a  nickd- 
plated  bicycle  often  has  the  same  funny  effect,  in  the  backwoods,  as  suggested  on  p.  7.  I  call 
such  misapprehension  "  funny,"  because  cheapness  is  one  of  the  distinctive  recomroendaiioos 
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  repcwts  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  hand,  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  industriotis 
man,  but  have  designedly  limited  my  field  of  money-making, — as  the  only  sure  device  for  avoiii- 
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  newspaper ;  and  I  very  soon  persuaded  the  ed- 
itor of  the  li^orld  {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  me,  at  my  pri- 
vate abode,  as  "  H'orliTs  Coll.  Chron."  Hence,  when  I  began  to  i^-rite  about  bicycling  in 
'79,  I  varied  this  signature  to  **  Kol  Kron  ";  and  when  the  WVr/^ decided,  in  the  autumn  of 
'82,  that  it  had  no  further  use  for  any  College  Chronicler,  I  expanded  the  *'  Kol  **  to  '*  Kari," 
and  explained  the  change,  with  some  detail,  on  p.  230  of  Dec.  WheelmoHy  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  obliged  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  shore 
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  salaiy  all  the  while. 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  721 

and  was  earning  it ;  for  the  good-lack  in  my  ca«e  was  merely  an  ability  to  so  adapt  the  utual 
hours  of  work  aud  play  as  to  take  each  in  laige  dotes. 

•*  World*^  exterUtU'es  as  I  do  not  pretend  to  vonch  for  the  truth  of  the  philosophy 

^  which  says  that  men  are  better^natured  than  women,  *'  because 

a  fum-<ompeUtor,  j^^y  ^„,y  ^^^  ^^,^^  ^j^^  ^„  ^ho  are  in  the  same  occupation 

as  thennelvss,  whereas  women,  having  only  one  occupation,  all  hate  eadi  other " ;  but  the 
bitterness  of  msn*s  business  rivalries  is  a  commonplace  of  every-day  observation.  Reflecting 
■pon  this,  and  upon  the  excepik>nal  smoothness  with  which  I  have  maniged  to  get  through 
life,  I  conclude  that  the  reason  for  it  must  be  attributed  to  my  skill  in  steering  such  a  course, 
•mid  the  mass  of  ray  fellow-humans,  as  to  keep  out  of  competition  wiih  them.  If  I  have 
always  been  way%irard,  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  hostility  of  no  other  paper ;  and,  as  no  standard  of  comparison  was  in  reach  of 
ths  office-editors,  by  which  they  could  prove  any  relative  failure  in  my  work,  they  were  foreed 
•o  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  fixxl  for  my  special  department.  In  those  days,  the  W«rid  was  a 
fairly  respectable  paper,  as  shown  by  its  having  a  much  smaller  circulation  than  any  other  morn- 
ing daily  in  the  dty ;  but  all  the  oflSoe-editors  abhorred  my  chronicle,  because  of  its  cast-iron 
dutch  on  two  columns  of  their  Monday's  space, — restriaing,  to  that  extent,  their  power  to  pub- 
lish genuine  "  news,"  of  universal  human  interest :  such  as  murders,  hangings,  robberies, 
rap?»,  assaults,  seductions,  scandals  and  all  the  rest.  It  is  by  a  thoroughly  business-like  devo- 
tio  I  to  thv»e  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  po^ice-gaxettes  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  Was,  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  valne  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  pnt  upon  it  or  not,  was  a  simple  question-of-bosiness  for  my  employer  to  consider. 
After  dedding  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,  thoi^h  a  general  cry  of  hean-felt  hilarity  went  up  in  the  World 
office,  over  the  long-hoped-for  death  of  my  much-hated  chronicle,  none  of  the  men  there  had 
any  particular  hostility  to  the  chronicler.  They  saw  that  my  work  did  not  compete  with  any 
ether,  that  I  was  not  in  the  line  of  promotion  to  any  place  which  they  wanted,  and  that  I  was 
not  employed  through  favoritism,— because  I  led  a  life  which  was  as  much  apart  from  my 
employer's  as  from  their  own.  That  he  should  per^st  so  long  in  wasting  so  mudi  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, 
thotigh,  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-world  who  has 
JMt  ceased  to  live."  There  was  a  sort  of  gratification  to  their  self-love  in  contemplating  the 
case  of  a  worker  whose  tdl  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  aJmost  any  "  average  bunness-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  I  think 
that  such  reading  must  also  convince  any  cme  that  I  am  enough  of  an  Emersonian  to  "  rely  con« 
fidently  on  that  order  of  the  anivenc  which  makes  it  always  really  worth  while  to  do  our 
46 


722 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


bestf  even  though  the  reward  may  not  be  visible,"  and  that  I  "  have  aeli-reUanoe  \ 
trust  my  own  convictions,  and  my  own  gifts,  such  as  they  are,  or  such  as  they  may  brmmr,  «idi> 
out  either  echoing  the  opinions  or  desirii^  the  more^mlliant  gifu  of  others."  1  think,  too, 
that  if  one  who  had  known  me  familiarly  since  childhood  were  to  try  to  convey  his  ooncqsdoa  of 
me  in  brief  phrase,  he  might  well  use  the  formula  by  which  Andrew  Lang  diaracteriaes  Moiiire : 
"  a  man  who  sought  for  the  permanent  element  of  life  in  diveriistemtni  ;  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  sn^- 
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  prizes  around  roe  vras  shown  in  the  production  of  my  book  about 
Yale,  which  fulfilled  very  acceptably  the  function  that  I  deaivned  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  undergradn- 
ate  study  paid  no  attention  whatever  to  the  pursuit  of  "  honors  "  ofiEered  by  the  Faculty,  and  I 
accorded  no  more  rennet  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  me  a  re^Mctable  rank.  In  those  days,  20  years  ago,  while 
I  was  of  very  small  account  in  the  official  world  of  college,  I  had  great  repute  in  a  oeruin  uSSi 
smaller  world,  as  an  authority  on  a  certain  small  science  called  "  philately."  All  weQ-nad 
votaries  of  this,  throughout  England  and  Canada  as  well  as  the  United  States,  recognized  my 
initials  as  representing  "  the  most  eminent  living  writer  on  the  subject  of  Americ 
stamps."  Now,  this  well-won  but  entirely  secret  fame,  which  interfered  with  no  other  c 
ure*s  complacency,  seemed  much  pleasanter  to  me  than  a  certainty  of  captuiing  the  highest 
prize  could  have  seemed,  if  I  had  cared  to  compete  with  the  midnight-oil4>uming  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  sdeooe  and  litera- 
ture was  quite  unknown  to  these  learned  instructors,  who  sedately  recorded  the  grades  of  ^ory 
due  to  such  ambitious  youth  as  best  "  caught  on  to  "  their  own  professorial  crotchets. 

Similarly,  the  fascination  attending  certain  explorations  in  geneakgy, 
which  I  gave  a  good  many  off-houn  to,  during  a  half-dosen  years,  was 
intensified  by  knowing  how  incomprehensible  it  seems  to  moat  people, 
and  how  generally  ignorant  even  the  best-educated  are  in  regard  to  the  commonness  of  such  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 ;  and  a  belief  that  no  one  dse  would  ever 
be  likely  to  do  it  was  irttat  induced  me  to  volunteer  as  family  historian.  Nothing  can  be  sillier 
than  the  off-hand  opinion  of  the  unreflecting  that  the  bent  of  such  oompilatioos  is  "  undemo- 
cratic" On  the  contrary,  they  are  the  outcome  of  a  strictly  scientific  ^irit ;  and  their  most  im- 
pressive lesson  is  the  one  hinted  at  on  p.  79, — the  utter  fatuity  of  snppodng  that  "  a  permanent 
family  "  can  exist  in  any  such  shifting  social  structure  as  our  own.  Almost  all  the  first  settlets 
in  this  country,  as  in  every  other,  were  poor  people  who  came  here  to  take  a  more-or-less  des- 
perate chance  of  bettering  their  tots.  No  prosperous  American  of  toKlay,  therefore,  is  likely  to 
have  his  vanity  vastly  increased,  by  a  mere  ability  to  show  his  own  exact  line  c»f  deaoent  from 
oerUin  ones  among  those  adventurous  emignmu;  but,  in  various  other  ways,  aoch  kaowle^P 
has  value  and  interest.  The  study  of  genealogy  may,  on  ita  sentimental  side,  be  fairly  con- 
sidered as  in  the  line  of  the  Scriptural  command,  "  Honor  thy  parents  " ;  and,  on  its  practical 
side,  as  enjoined  by,  "  Know  thyself."  The  man  whose  name  I  have  inherited  thnM^  six 
generations  was  among  the  earliest  settlers  in  Springfield,  where  I  was  been ;  and  the  nmn 
whose  name  my  mother  inherited  through  six  generations  was  one  of  the  founden  of  New 
Haven,  where  she  was  bom ;  and  all  my  intermediate  ancestors  of  those  two  names  spent  dieir 
entire  lives  in  those  two  places.    In  general,  the  same  may  be  said  in  regiafd  to  my  anceslon  of 


Illustrations  from 
genealogy. 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT  723 

aK  other  names,  during  thia  period  of  a  50  years, — I  hare  discorered  that  they  lived  and  died  in 
one  or  the  other  of  those  two  typical  Yankee  settlements  in  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut. 
Every  person's  progenitors  of  the  7th  generation  preceding  necessarily  represented  138  families, 
to  which  the  degree  of  his  relationship  is  just  the  same  as  to  the  one  family  whose  name  he 
bears ;  though,  in  common  talk  about  such  a  case,  the  127  families,  or  most  of  them,  are  apt  to 
be  ignored.  Hereditary  influences,  however,  pay  no  regard  to  nominal  distinctions ;  and  a  man 
who  wishes  to  generalise  about  them  in  his  own  case  («.  g.,  to  estimate  his  chances  of  longevity) 
is  bound  to  procure  the  vital  statistics  of  dU  h'ls  ancestors  in  a  given  generation.  The  difficulty 
<A  dmng  this,  in  New  England,  straight  back  to  its  first  settlement  in  the  17th  century,  is  not 
so  great  as  mii^t  seem ;  for  the  local  records  of  births,  marriages  and  deaths  have  been  kept 
there  with  exceptional  completeness ;  residences  were  rarely  changed  in  the  era  before  railroads ; 
and  the  printed  family  genealogies  which  are  accessible  in  public  libraries  give  facts  about  neaurly 
all  the  early  population.  Hence,  though  I  am  pleased  with  having  assured  myself  that,  as  noted 
on  p.  36,  "  I  am  a  thoroughbred  Yankee  from  Yankeeville,"— that  I  am  a  true  son  of  the  soil, 
if  there  ever  was  one, — the  renuu'k  conveys  no  implication  that  thousands  of  others  could  not 
readily  prove  themselves  likewise,  if  they  chose  to  take  the  trouble.  It  amuses  me  to  know  that 
my  father's  family  name,  however  odd  or  obscure,  has  flourished  in  England  ever  since  one  of 
William  the  Conqueror's  assistant-pirates  introduced  it  there  in  zo66 ;  and  that  my  mother's 
earliest  American  progenitor  brought  across  with  him  in  1637  ^  connected  record  of  many  gen- 
erations of  Kentish  ancestors.  It  amuses  me  to  know  that  the  only  very  remarkable  thing  ever 
done  by  a  man  of  my  name  in  this  country  was  the  act  of  one  of  my  grandfather's  cousins,  who 
Hved  into  his  102nd  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  Vermont  border,  out  of 
sight  of  a  railway ;  and  when  I  went  there  to  visit  him,  for  the  first  and  last  time,  on  his  97th 
birthday,  his  talk  impressed  my  mind  with  the  curious  conviction  that  I  myself  had  already  lived 
much  longer  than  he  had  (judging  by  extent  and  variety  of  experiences),  though  coming  into  the 
world  almost  70  years  later.  It  amuses  me  to  know  that  the  average  age  of  all  my  ancestors  for 
six  generations  was  much  greater  than  the  average  age  of  humanity  in  general,  and  that  every 
one  of  them  was  younger  at  the  time  of  marriage  than  I  myself  now  am.  But  my  pleasure  in  all 
these  bits  of  knowledge  comes  not  from  their  power  to  make  me  seem  either  better  or  worse  to 
other  people,  but  from  their  power  to  make  me  the  more  truly  understand  my  own  nature. 

In  compiling  a  list  of  all  the  people  who  have  borne  my 
name,  I  knew  full  well  that  it  could  interest  only  a  few  score  of 
readers,  even  among  those  to  whom  the  name  belongs.  I  knew 
that  my  utterances  about  "  philately"  were  quite  "  caviare  to  the  general."  I  kn<w  that  my 
book  about  undergraduate  life  and  customs  could  have  no  vogue  except  among  Yale  men.  I 
knew  that  my  exhaustive  history  of  intercollegiate  boat-racing  would  be  hopelessly  buried  be- 
tween the  covers  of  a  mighty  tome  never  opened  except  for  scientific  research.  I  knew  that  my 
chronicle  in  the  World  would  be  scornfully  skipped  by  all  readen  not  of  academic  antecedents. 
Yet  I  took  pains  witl/all  these  matters,  and  was  satbfied  with  them,  because  I  felt  that  in  each 
field— however  small — I  was  supreme ;  that  no  one  else  wished  to  interfere  with  me,  or  could 
pretend  to  do  the  same  work  as  well.  So,  now,  as  regards  the  present  book  :  experiment  only 
can  decide  whether  it  was  wisely  planned  to  please  my  special  (lienieU  ;  but  no  other  human 
could  have  planned  it,  because  none  other  has  had  my  own  peculiar  experiences ;  and  if  the 
quick  sale  of  30,000  copies  shall  raise  it  to  the  plane  of  success,  the  actual  or  prospective  pros- 
perity of  no  other  author  or  publisher  can  be  at  all  diminished  thereby.  This  notion  may  help 
explain  my  willingness  to  assume  such  enormous  risks  in  trying  to  placate  these  people ;  for,  if 
I  can  do  it,  I  thus  ensure  a  livelihood  "  without  competition," — without  the  need  of  crowding 
out  any  one  else,— without  the  surrender  of  personal  independence  involved  in  habitual  personal 
contact  with  "business  men."  If  I  can  please  my  3000  subscribers,  they  can  put  me  in  con- 
trol of  a  new  field  which  is  fully  my  own,  by  right  of  original  discovery.  I  had  no  idea  of  any 
sndi  discovery  while  I  was  formulating  my  prospectus,  three  years  ago.  I  intended  soon  to  re- 
torn  to  newspaper  work,  and  thought  that  six  months  would  suffice  for  publishing  my  existing 


Preference  for  small  and 
special  tasks. 


724 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Iimotved  beyond 
my  wishes. 


road-r«port8  in  book  form,  with  a  fair  chance  of  $$00  profit.  I  had  spent  great  care  upon  thnn, 
and  1  rather  hated  to  let  them  lie  buried  where  first  printed, — especially  as  there  was  an  evident 
demand  for  a  road-book,  and  no  signs  appeared  of  any  other  tourist  or  writer  volunteering  t» 
take  up  the  task.  So,  like  the  mariner  in  the  old  story,  **  i  floated  away  for  the  Loadstone  Rock** 
This  chapter's  report  of  how  my  first  very  simple  plan  gradually  ex* 
panded  until,  by  imperceptible  degrees,  I  found  myself  involved  beyond 
all  hope  of  returning  to  my  former  mode  of  livelihood,  illustrates  very  well 
the  uncertainties  of  human  existence.  It  seems,  therefore,  like  a  sort  of  sarcasm  of  destiny  ihat» 
in  spite  of  the  wish  to  confine  my  achievements  to  small  things,  "  a  great  affair  "  has  somehow 
got  saddled  on  my  shoulders ;  that,  in  spite  of  an  indisposition  to  speculate  or  assume  finaiK 
ctal  risks,  I  have  perforce  staked  at  least  $10,000  worth  of  my  time  and  money  upua  a  chance 
which  all  the  wise-heads  consider  visionary  and  hopeless ;  that,  in  spite  of  a  preference  for  a 
quiet  and  obncure  life,  I  am  now  driven  to  beat  the  advertising  gong  upon  all  the  housetops  of 
the  cycling  world,  and  make  merchandise  of  my  notoriety.  The  very  perversity  of  such  a  fate 
gives  it  a  sort  of  grotesqueness  which  is  not  unamusing  to  me ;  but  I  wish  to  leave  no  room 
open  for  doubt  upon  this  essential  fact :  that  my  volubility  as  a  book-agent  (whether  it  shall  prove 
effective  or  not)  is  as  strictly  inspired  by  "  business  *'  as  is  that  of  America's  most  eminent 
political  talker,  Senator  Evarts.  1  account  it  quite  unjust  to  call  him  "  a  sophistical  rlietoricxan, 
intoxicated  with  the  exuberance  of  his  own  verbosity  '* ;  for  sophbtry  has  always  been  the  la«^ 
yers'  stand-by,  sinci  those  early  times  when  Demosthenes  told  aboiit  their  making  tbe  worse  ap> 
pear  the  better  reason.  I  never  saw  any  signs  of  intoxication  in  his  talk,  or  of  inability  to  loe 
ths  simple  words  of  less-gifted  people,  when  he  cared  to  make  himself  comprehensible.  When, 
for  example,  at  the  great  mass-meeting  of  Jan.  i  r,  '75,  serving  as  the  mouthpiece  of  this  indig- 
nant metropolis  in  its  demand  for  constitutional  government  at  the  South,  he  said,  "  The  ootrags 
on  Louisiana  was  an  outrage  on  New  York  and  on  every  State  in  the  Union,"  President  Grant 
and  his  **  senatorial  group  '*  knew  just  what  was  meanL  lliey  made  no  more  experiments  al 
organizing  State  legislatures  with  federal  bayonets. 


Anecdote  of  Gen, 
Grant, 


It  was  during  this  Presidency,  or  soon  afterwards,  that  Grant  toU  a 
friend  of  mine  an  incident  about  himself  which  seems  worth  li^gging  in  here, 
to  point  a  comparison  with,  and  also  to  preserve  for  its  own  sake.  I  am  not 
aware  that  it  has  ever  been  printed,  though  I  was  strongly  tempted  to  publish  it  at  the  time 
when  a  cracked-brained  adventurer's  shooting  of  President  Garfield  threw  the  Tribmm  into  aa 
unusually  silly  fit  of  its  womanish  hysterics.  Though  the  Czar  of  all  the  Ruasias,  comrnaDd* 
ing  the  unlimited  resources  of  an  absolute  despotism,  had  just  exemplified  the  utter  impotence  of 
the  most  elaborate  precautions  for  preserving,  in  these  modem  times,  a  single  human  life  whi^ 
a  single  determined  man  is  willing  to  risk  his  own  to  destroy, — the  TrSmtte  was  actually  weak 
enough  to  cry  aloud  that  the  executive  chief  of  this  democratic  republic  must  henceforth  be  de- 
fended by  a  personal  body-guard,  with  drawn  swords  and  fixed  bayonets !  Something  of  diis 
sort  had  been  suggested  to  Gen.  Grant,  sixteen  years  earlier,  in  Apr.,  '65,  just  when  tbe  s 
tion  of  President  Lincoln  and  the  assault  on  Secretary  Seward  were  causing  people  to  < 
lest  the  conquered  rebels  had  plotted  to  bring  confusion  upon  their  victorious  government  by  a 
general  slaughter  of  its  leaders.  He  was  cautioned  against  going  about  the  streets  of  Washii^- 
ton,  in  his  customary  simple  manner,  as  needlessly  exposing  to  peril  what  then  seemed  the  most 
valuable  life  in  America.  Grant  told  my  friend  that  he  realized  the  possible  peril,  but  that  he 
also  realized,  and  so  assured  his  advisers,  that  it  w>*as  a  necessity  of  his  position,  and  that  it  would 
only  be  intensified  by  any  action  of  his  which  gave  public  token  of  recognizing  it.  "  If  poKtical 
plotters  or  private  fanatics  have  really  determined  to  kill  me,**  said  Grant,  "  there  b  no  certain  way 
of  preventing  them.  But  the  best  way  of  discourapng  them  is  to  go  about  my  usual  business  in 
my  usual  manner.  If  I  thus  show  my  belief  that  this  frovemment  does  not  depend  for  perpetuity 
upon  any  single  life,  I  shall  help  recall  that  truth  to  flif;hty  minds  which  may  temporarily  have 
forgotten  it.'*  The  sturdy  wisdom  of  this  decision  endears  Grant's  memory  to  me  quite  as  modi 
as  any  saying  I  recall  as  accredited  to  him,  for  it  shows  what  a  really  genuine  American  he  was, 
and  how  thoroughly  he  appredatod— in  spite  of  his  incapacity  to  avoid  rudimeiitary  blunders  » 


Delay  and  worry  caused 
by  **  side-issues  " 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  725 

political  administration— the  ultimate  idea  on  whicli  the  greatness  of  this  nation  rests.  People 
to  whom  1  have  meniloned  the  incident  have  sometimes  praised  its  "  courage  "  ;  but  I  do  not 
-consider  that  iu  important  feature.  Grant's  courage  was  predicated  on  the  fact  of  his  willing. 
«ess  to  become  the  foremost  figure  iu  a  successful  war ;  but,  when  this  fact  made  him  also  a 
supremely  attractive  target  for  the  assassin,  the  manner  in  which  he  faced  such  a  chance  had  its 
<h>ef  significance  in  proving  his  downright  sagacity  and  good-sense.  I  hope  the  story  may 
not  seem  a  too  pretentious  prelude  to  explaining  why  I  think  certain  offered  praise  of  my  own 
'*  courage,"  for  putting  so  many  pages  into  this  book,  is  misapplied.  If  I  deserve  the  word  at 
^I,  it  is  for  making  a  beginning ;  but  I  have  confessed  that  i  never  should  have  taken  that  first 
step  if  I  could  havj  foreseen  the  troubles  which  it  was  fated  to  lead  me  into.  What  I  want  to 
insist  upon  is  that  my  later  actions  have  been  ^nder  the  stress  of  inevitable  necessity.  When  a 
man  can't  turn  back,  there  is  no  panicular  "  courage  "  implied  in  the  steadfastness  with  which 
lie  goes  ahead,  though  it  may  supply  an  interesting  test  of  his  physical  capacity  for  endurance, 
^nd  of  his  mental  capacity  for  choosing  the  right  road.  In  war-time,  the  imprisoned  soldiers 
sometimes  used  to  dig  their  way  out  through  tunnels, — by  concealing  a  few  haudfuls  of  earth 
«ach  day,  during  the  hour  or  two  when  they  were  left  unwatched.  As  the  tunnel  grew  longer, 
and  the  day  of  completing  it  grew  nearer,  their  own  dread  of  discovery  increased  in  similar  de- 
gree until,  on  the  eve  of  trial,  this  dread  became  almost  unendurable.  To  fail  then,  on  the  very 
verge  of  freedom,— to  lose  all  that  had  b:en  patiently  won, — seemed  so  much  more  ignominious 
and  heart-breaking  than  earlier  failure  could  have  seemed  !  Yet  the  self-control  of  these  men, 
in  keeping  an  unruffled  front  till  the  last,  was  something  rather  different  from  **  courage." 

My  mental  strain  in  this  task  has  been  similar  to  that  of 
those  tunnel-digging  prisoners.  I  have  never  doubted  that  the 
chance  of  freedom  ahead  was  well  worth  "  making  a  break  for  " ; 
but  I  have  grown  more,  and  more  nervous  lest  something  should  stop  my  preliminary  digging 
'before  it  reached  the  point  whsre  such  break  were  possible.  I  have  felt,  time  and  again,  as  if 
my  strength  might  not  hold  out  to  really  publish  the  book  in  the  exact  shape  which  I  deem 
essential  for  forcing  a  large  sale  of  it.  I  have  likened  my  position  to  that  of  the  leading  figure 
•  ^m  the  heading  of  the  old  Am.  Bi  Journal {^.  656),  and  have  feared  that  the  Scythe-Swinger  in 
the  rear  would  at  some  point  of  the  contest  quicken  his  pace  enough  to  mow  me  down.  Ap- 
■proaching  now  within  a  few  months  of  the  exact  age  when  my  father  killed  himself  by  overwork, 
34  years  ago,  I  have  been  oppressed  with  the  superstition  that, — inheriting  his  inability  ever  to  do 
things  by  halves, — I  might  be  fated  to  pay  the  same  penalty.  Having  always  endeavored  to 
profit  from  his  example,  by  refraining  from  every  scheme  or  entanglement  large  enough  to 
•excite  or  absorb  me ;  having  always  reprobated  the  folly  of  risking  present  health  and  pleasure 
for  any  possible  priz?  of  the  future ;  having  always  expected  to  quit  the  world  without  leaving  in 
it  any  sign  as  to  whether  or  not  I  might  possess  the  capacity  for  money-making, — I  now,  at  forty, 
iind  myself  forced  forward  to  do  just  what  I  believe  unwise  to  do.  I  almost  feel  as  if  I  were  a 
sort  of  automaton,  impelled  to  enact  a  grim  practical  joke  I  But  besides  these  general  disturbances 
of  mind,  there  have  been  special  ones,  as  unavoidable  as  unexpected,  which  caused  delay.  The 
building  of  a  half-million  words  into  a  book  is  not  quite  so  simple  a  process  as  the  laying  of  lliat 
many  bricks  into  a  wall ;  and  I  should  say,  at  a  guess,  that  I  have  meanwhile  written  another 
half-million  words,  in  advertising  and  pushing  the  scheme.  In  the  spring  of  '85,  one  of  the 
eariy  friends  of  the  book  printed  a  carelessly-wordsd  letter,  saying  that  its  prospective  value  Itad 
•now  vanished,  because  of  the  long  delay,  and  "  demanding  a  return  of  subscribers'  money." 
As  this  conveyed  the  notion  that  I  had  been  collecting  cash,  under  false  pretenses,  I  was  forced 
^  write  two  long  series  of  letters  to  all  the  cycling  papers, — explaining  that  my  plan  called  sim- 
ply for  promises,  not  money,  in  advance.  About  a  year  later,  a  New  Jersey  cycling  club,  of 
previonsly  good  reputation,  called  the  Orange  Wanderers,  issued  a  pair  of  formal  manifestoes : 
4he  first  (May  19)  recommending  the  local  government  to  enact  certain  illegal  discriminations 
against  "  bicycles  and  tricycles,"  and  the  second  (July  1)  recommending  wheelmen  generally  to 
submit  to  the  actual  enactments  (which  threatened  them  with  "  $5  fine  or  30  days*  imprison- 
sient,"  for  exercising  their  common-law  rights  upon  the  road)  as  "perfectly  proper."    This 


726 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


A  political  inter- 
ruptian. 


nnacoountable  dLq>lay  of  fatuity  was  reproved  by  me  to  the  extent  of  three  coloams  {BuBtim^ 
July  a3,  p.  80)  of  as  vigorous  language  as  my  heart-felt  indignation  could  inspire ;  and  modb 
other  writing,  public  and  private,  was  extorted  from  me  by  the  later  necessities  of  the  case. 
These  two  "  side-issues  "  of  '85  and  *86— such  b  the  worry  and  annoyance  and  mental  internip- 
tion  which  personal  contentions  of  that  sort  cause— combined  to  knock  a  month's  vitality  sqoately 
out  of  my  life,  and  by  at  least  that  extent  delayed  the  book ;  yet  I  simply  could  not  go  00  writ> 
ing  it  until  those  side-issues  were  settled. 

Similarly,  in  the  autumn  of  '84,  I  had  to  sacrifice  the  eqaivaknt  of 
two  months'  progress,  because  of  inability  to  maintain  my  usual  attitude  of 
unconcerned  spectator,  in  the  presence  of  wl^it  seemed  to  me  a  grave 
national  peril.  "  Politics "  of  the  common  sort  makes  no  more  of  a  personal  appeal  to  me 
than  any  other  outside  game,  which  I  have  no  wish  to  share  in.  So  far  as  votes  are  concerned, 
it  is  self-evident  that  the  only  significant  ones  are  those  cast  by  men  who  ave  independent  of 
party  dictation,— for  all  the  rest  simply  form  two  inert  masses  whose  sole  fonction  is  to  o£fset 
each  other.  Hence  it  seems  to  me  that  every  citizen  whose  circumstances  are  exceptional 
enough  to  allow  him  to  indulge  in  a  mind  of  his  own,  owes  a  special  duty  to  the  public  in  for- 
mally registering  his  opinion  at  every  election.  For  myself,  it  is  quite  impossible  that  I  draold 
have  the  slightest  loyalty  for  "  a  party  "  as  an  abstraction  or  a  superstition ;  and  I  find  it  hard 
to  understand  such  a  sentiment  when  shown  by  other  people  tow;ards  either  of  the  "  parties  ** 
which  now  nominally  oppose  each  other,  though  really  "  without  form  and  void."  I  juiclge  "a 
party  "  in  each  election  simply  for  its  value  as  an  instrument  in  expressing  an  idea,  or  twinging 
to  pass  a  result ;  but  I  care  no  more  for  the  name  pasted  on  the  instrument  than  for  the  color  of 
the  ballot-box  into  which  my  vote  is  cast.  This  is  not  by  way  of  suggesting  that  I  have  do  po-* 
manent  political  prejudices  (for  I  am  necessarily  a  bitter  opponent  of  "  the  interference  theory 
of  government  "  in  all  its  shapes  and  guises,  and  have  no  patience  with  any  sdieme  which  seeks 
to  lessen  individual  freedom),  but  only  by  way  of  explaining  that  the  trouble  whidi  delayed  this- 
book  two  months  in  '84  was  quite  disconnected  from  partisanship.  That  deplorable  attempt  to- 
destroy  an  honest  man's  good-name  somehow  appealed  to  my  personal  sense  of  justice.  It  made 
me  thoroughly  angry,  as  no  other  public  event  had  ever  had  power  to  make  me,  except  the 
assassination  of  Lincoln.  And  so,  according. to  the  measure  of  my  opportunity,  I  did  idtat  little 
I  could  to  help  the  Honest  Tricycler  win  the  great  Presidential  race.  His  triumph  may  be  made 
to  teach  various  plausible  "  lessons,"  but  the  lesson  which  the  philosophic  historian  of  the 
future  is  sure  to  insist  upon  as  the  most  significant  is  that  one  which  is  an  omen  of  triumph  for 
wheeling.  The  strife,  in  its  ultimate  essence,  was  between  the  old  and  the  new,— between  the 
veterans  who  "  pointed  with  pride  "  to  the  rear,  and  the  youngsters  who  insisted  on  pointiog 
with  ^ope  to  the  front.  A  new  generation  asserted  itself  in  that  victory,— a  generation  whidi 
contains  the  bicyclers,  and  which  can  sympathize  with  their  demands  for  better  roads.  Many  of 
my  subscribers  no  doubt  "  voted  the  wrong  way  " ;  but  I  hope  no  one  of  them'Veally  regreCsa  re> 
suit  which  gave  us  a  wheelman  for  chief  ruler,  and  proved  the  potency  of  those  new  ideas  and 
tendendes  to  which  cycling  makes  its  chief  appeal. 

It  is  proper  that  I  should  say  here,  to  prepare  for  a  later  remark,  that 
I  have  had  some  sort  of  direct  knowledge  (irrespective  of  all  printed  re- 
ports) about  the  last  seven  Presidents  and  their  cabinets  and  foreign 
ministers;  the  Supreme  Court  judges  and  lesser  ones;  the  great  railroad  managers  and  their 
lawyers  (who  really  rule  this  country);  sieoators,  congressmen,  governors,  mayors,  and  the 
political  machinists  who  "  work  "  those  antomatons  in  nation.  State  and  dty ;  the  chief  olficers 
of  the  army  and  navy ;  newspaper  owners  and  college  executives ;  distinguished  clergymen  and 
physicians,  merchants  and  bankers,  travelers  and  sdentists,  historians  and  poets,  novd-writers 
and  artists,  singers  and  actors.  In  regard  to  those  Americans  who  have  been  most  prominent 
daring  the  last  20  years,  I  may  say  that  I  have  talked  with  a  good  many  of  them,  have  watched 
with  my  own  eyes  a  larger  number,  and,  through  my  friends  (who  could  trust  my  discretion  in 
revealing  their  own  experiences  among  such  people),  have  been  able  to  get  a  pretty  dinct  jndg* 
nent  of  nearly  all  of  them,  and  form  a  fairly  independent  opinion  as  to  how  they  oondnct  t 


The  range  of  my 
acquaintance. 


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  ruffled  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  car ;  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  dearly  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  vray  as  contact  with  one 
who  declines  to  ride  a  bicycle  for  fear  he  may  appear  "  undignified," — T  mean  it  recalls  Roche- 
foucauld's shrewd  definition  :  "  Gravity  is  a  peculiar  carrias;e  of  the  body,  invented  to  conceal 
the  defects  of  the  mind."  As  an  offset  to  my  asserted  indifference  about  the  sort  of  "  recogni- 
tioD  "  extended  to  me  by  such  "  persons  of  position  "  as  I  have  happened  to  meet, — to  my 
denial  of  "  awe  "  and  "  patronage  "  as  factors  in  my  ind«>endent  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  them  it  assuredly  owes  much.  The  pleasure  of  exist- 
ence, indeed,  lies  laigtly  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  b(^  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." 


**IJUrary"  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  disappointed  vanity  over  the  inevitable  result.  Qapp'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  of  the  next  one.  I  doubt  if  the  name  of  Mr.  Bris- 
ted (d.  Jan.  15,  1874,  ae.  53)  signifies  anything  to  as  many  as  loo  of  my  3000  subscribers ;  and 
jet  he  was  a  sort  of  man  whose  life  was  worth  more  to  the  higher  civilization  of  a  country  like 
this  than  a  whole  army  of  Greeleys.  He  was  the  only  man  of  wealth  whom  I  ever  happened 
to  know  anything  about  as  using  it  for  the  development  of  his  own  intellectual  freedom,  instead 
of  for  fettering  it  by  the  customary  social  and  conventional  shackles ;  and  the  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  «f  iH 
power,  from  first  word  to  last,  to  reflect  my  own  mind  on  the  subject  which  it  cnocemed.  That 
subject  was  the  trick  of  winning  popularity  by  preaching  the  suppression  of  the  iDdividoal  for 
the  flattery  of  the  mass ;  and  thai  book  was  in  fonn  a  personal  letter  to  our  most  admired 
apostle  of  mediocrity  and  commonplac3,~our  late  "  American  Tupper/'  J.  G.  Holland, — "Co»' 
ceming  his  Habit  of  Giving  Advics  to  Everybody,  and  his  Qualifications  for  the  Task'*(8va^ 
45  pp.,  N.  Y.,  '64).  As  regards  my  dislike  for  most  "  literary  men,"  whidi  my  Preface  allodes 
to,  1  suppose  it  is  because  I  class  them  among  the  "show  people '*  or  "play-actors";  and 
because,  as  regards  the  stage,  I  agree  with  ths  remark  of  Fanny  Kemble,  whose  )ife4oi^  snC' 
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  with  contempt 
upon  any  man  who,  for  the  same  reason,  elects  to  carry  a  hod.  The  law  of  necenity  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  gratificatkm 
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  for  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.  "  If  we  really  understand  life,  we  should  command  i^ 
reap  its  principal  rewards,  comfortably  live  it,  instead  of  vaguely  speculating  about  il"  S» 
says  a  college  contemporary  of  mine,  VV.  H.  Bishop,  whom  I  account  quite  as  good  a  story- 
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  com- 
ing to  me  from  wheelmen  of  all  countries,  that  the  quick  sale  of  30,000  books  had  won  rac  a 
decent  competencs,  and  that  my  health  had  meanwhile  been  broken  down  by  the  overwork 
involved, — I  anticipate  that  my  feelings  would  be  exactly  reflected  in  these  words  of  his :  "  Ts 
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  roost  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  o£f  with  a 
[bicycle]  for  ten  hours  on  the  stretch,  without  stopping.  Ah !  that  would  be  worth  wtule,  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  glaaing,  what  9xt  future  glories  worth  ?  " 

I  have  no  possible  quarrel  with  what  is  called  "  sodety,"  nw  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  whs 
doesn't  like  them  ought  to  seek  soms  oth?r  game  for  his  amusement.  I  myself  should  ns 
more  think  of  trying  to  play  at  "  society  "  than  at  billiards  or  base-ba11,~for  any  such  caat-iros 
form  of  pleasuring  is  necessarily  a  bor£  to  me ;  but  I  am  happy  to  recognize  that  other  peof4s 
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  institutimi  o£ 
property,  on  which  it  is  based;  and,  as  almost  all  people  desire  to  get  property,  they  are  apt  t» 


The  sifrnificance  of 
"society:^ 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT,  729 

take  ta  iDterest  in  the  movements  of  tluae  people  wbooe  amoaement  it  is  to  display  the  fact  that 
they  have  got  it.  Now,  I  biamo  no  ono  for  amusing  liimself  thus,  nor  for  adopting  certain 
rules  and  conventions  by  which  that  display  may  be  most  coDVcniently  and  e£Eectively  made.  I 
contend,  however,  that,  as  the  sole  object  of  "  society  "  is  amusement,  the  conunon  habit  of 
accrediting  it  with  any  serious  purpose,  or  of  assuming  that  thore  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  concerning  sport.  A  man  pays  money  for  going  into  it,  just  as  he  docs  for  going  into  bicy- 
cling, either  for  the  anticipated  fun,  or  in  the  hope  of  maiding  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  tliat  a  man 
may  be  an  exemplary  citizen,  and  fulfi.l  all  the  duties  which  hs  owes  his  fellows,  without  giving 
any  owrs  regard  to  "  society  "  than  to  bicycling  or  rowing.  The  vast  bulk  of  the  rac3,  indeed, — 
the  people  who  do  most  of  the  world's  work, — are  inexorably  barred  out  from  it  because  they 
must  always  be  poor.  To  roil  at  society  for  being  "  puna-proud,'*  or  "  rof using  to  recognize 
a  poor  man,"  shows  an  odd  misapprehension  of  its  character.  To  denounce  a  pair  of  bicycki 
tourists  as  *'  heartless,"  because  they  refuse  to  adapt  their  pace  to  a  pedestrian  who  wishes  to 
enioy  their  company,  would  be  no  more  absurd.  Substantial  equality  between  the  pbyers,  and  a 
pre-arranged  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-racing  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  aHord  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  folbwing  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  'II  often  have  to  smile. 
To  see  so  many  poor  people  putting  on  style !  " 

M,  personal  relatioHs  \     ^^«  '^'^°''*  "if!"*  }^'  "  ""  ^f^'"f^  ""'  *" 
.  ,        ,  ought  to  be  a  bicycler,  if  he  is  not  one,-rso  heartily  does  he  sympa- 

with  cyclers.  |  ^^,^^  ^jjj  jj^^  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  must  throw  off  his  depend- 
ence on  valets,  coachmen  and  porters,  who  intercept  all  communication  with  his  fellow-men, 
with  vegetation,  with  animals.  He  must  offset  menul  worry  by  doing  physical  work,  which  pro- 
cures  appethe  and  quiet  sleep ;  aud  he  must  have  some  mode  of  stcurimg  affectumaU  htUr* 
cmiruwiik  all  nun.*'*  The  bicycle's  availability  as  an  instrument  for  the  purpose  shown  by  tho 
words  which  I  have  italicized,  was  what  1  chiefly  praised  it  for  when  1  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  npon  now,  as  an  excuse  for  my  elaborate  showing  of  the  various  classes  of  men  between 
whom  and  myself  there  can  be  no  such  intercourse.  I  hope,  by  contrast,  the  more  Impressively 
to  exhibit  why,  between  myself  and  the  c!assof  men  who  like  to  pu^h  bicycles  through  the  coun- 
try, I  think  there  must  exist  an  unusual  amount  of  affection  and  sympathy.  I  suppose  that  a 
coII^;e-bred  man  is  always  mildly  glad  to  learn  that  the  winner  of  any  notable  prize  in  public  life 
was  also  a  graduate ;  that  he  is  more  pleassd  on  learning  that  such  winner  graduated  at  his  ow« 
college;  and  mast  pleased  when  the  winner  chances  to  be  an  acquaintance  and  dassmatew 
There  is  a  gratification  in  such  cases  of  a  not  ignoble  self-esteem, — the  sam?  which  forms  the 
I  of  locil  public-spirit  and  national  patriotism,— and  I  rely  upon  it  as  a  factor  in  helping  me 
1  with  this  book.  I  think  such  success,  if  won,  will  stir  a  sort  of  generous  priHe  in  the 
kaarta  of  wheelmen,  for  they  will  feel  that  whatever  glory  atuches  to  it  must,  in  some  degrM* 


7SO 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


be  reflected  bade  upon  the  qport,  and  so  upon  dienadres  as  ahaien  in  it  There  is  almja  a 
pleasure,  when  I  come  in  chance  contact  with  a  stranger,  in  discovering  that  he  is  college-bred,— 
not  because  that  fact  makes  him  essentially  better-bred  or  more  interesting  than  the  next  man, 
but  because  it  at  once  puts  us  on  common  ground,  where  we  can  freely  exchange  ideas,  aboot  a 
certain  variety  of  topics,  without  any  danger  of  treading  on  each  other's  toes.  Similariy,  for  its 
power  in  breaking  down  the  conventional  barriers  against  intercourse,  I  value  the  faa^de ;  and 
I  recognize  the  posseision  of  one  as— always  and  everywhere  a  satisfactory  introduction<aid 
to  my  good-will.  I  am  glad  to  have  wheelmen  make  themselves  known  to  roe,  while  on  the 
road,  and  jog  along  with  me  a  few  hours,  if  they  choose  to,— though  any  fonnal  escort-business, 
by  a  lai^  party,  is  not  to  my  taste.  If  non-resident  subscriben  will  notify  me  of  definite  hours 
and  places  decided  upon  by  them  for  riding,  while  visiting  the  re^on  around  New  Yoric,  I  wS 
try  to  join  them,  whenever  practicable.  Subscribers  from  a  foreign  country,  or  irom  resnote 
regions  in  this  country,  or  who  have  exchanged  many  letters  with  me,  are  specially  invked,  when 
they  visit  this  city,  either  to  make  a  riding  appointment  as  above,  or  else  to  call  on  me  at  oiy 
chambers,  between  4  and  6  p.  m.  I  prefer  not  to  be  interrupted  eariier,  except  by  definite  en- 
gagement ;  and  even  an  afternoon  call  may  bs  more  certainly  assured  if  notice  be  sent  in  advance. 
Considering  how  common  the  custom  is  among  "  literary  men  '*  to  let  the  walls  of  their  habitat 
tions  be  pulled  down  for  the  amusement  of  the  populace,  I  hope  no  possible  visitor  of  mine  wSl 
feel  affronted  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  widi  that  he  should  re- 
port to  others.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  my  surroundings  are  comfortable  and  orderiy,  and  that  any 
proclamation  of  the  exact  nature  of  them  is  not  consistent  with  my  ideal  of  a  private  life.  As 
to  this,  and  as  to  the  suppression  of  ray  family  name,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  "  there  is  a 
great  difference  between  having  yourself  discussed  among  your  acquaintance,  and  having  your- 
self discussed  by  the  world  at  large,  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  "  operators  on  Wall  St.,"  as  a  part  of  their  game  in  stock-gambling.  I  recill 
that  two  of  my  former  associates— both  a  trifle  younger  than  I  am— so  distinguished  tbemsdvcs 
in  this  game,  while  posing  as  bank  presidents,  that  one  of  them  was  sentenced  to  prison  for  ten 
years,  while  the  other  chose  exile  in  Canada.  Still  a  third  *'  young  Napoleon  of  finance  "  was 
casually  known  to  me,  years  ago,  before  he  began  to  tread  the  path  of  glory  which  has  broog|it 
him  to  State's  Prison.  I  think  that,  on  one  of  the  occasions  when  I  met  Gen.  Grant  driving,  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  city,  this  phenomenon  (who  brought  misery  to  his  last  days)  was  00  the 
teat  beside  him ;  but  the  notion  never  occurred  to  me  that  either  one  of  them  was  havii^  a 
pleasanter  time  of  it  than  I  on  the  bicycle.  Indeed,  as  regards  the  entire  trio  of  bank-wreckers, 
—whose  villainies  were  monumental  even  in  an  era  when  betrayals  of  great  trusts  are  commoB, — 
I  had  no  more  envy  of  them^n  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^y.  Bicycling  seemed  then,  as  it  seems  now,  a  much  pleasanter 
game  to  play ;  and  it  is  in  no  spirit  of  personal  exultation  that  I  allude  to  the  fate  of  these 
acquaintances  who  tried  to  play  a  more  pretentious  one.  I  use  their  example  merely  for  ilt 
power  to  sharply  pdnt  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  wheel  through  the  worid,  my  brave  boys  !** 


Sincerity  and  its 
compensations. 


The  interest  which  peojJle  feel  in  the  "  last  words"  of  crimmals  abooi 
to  be  executed,  is  not  entirely  a  morbid  one,  but  is  inspired  somewhat  \ff 
the  belief  that,  on  this  ultimate  occasion,  they  will  probably  say  what  they 
think.  Similarly,  if  there  be  any  litemry  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  of  ooo- 
veying  the  impression  that  the  writer  of  them  has  got  to  the  end,  and  does  n*t  care.  1  thiak 
their  tone  of  sincerity  must  be  too  pronounced  to  leave  any  chance  for  suspicion.  At  all  evenix, 
If  1  knew  these  words  were  really  the  last  ever  to  be  printed  by  roe,  I  would  n't  recall  any  «f 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT.  731 

them.  In  fact,  I  would  n't  care  to  recall  anything  I  ever  printed  or  wrote.  It  has  been  aeoffingly 
aaid  that  a  man  who  daims  this  for  himself  "  is  pretty  certain  never  to  have  written  anything 
which  any  one  else  cares  to  recall.*'  I  do  not  object  to  the  implication ;  I  simply  urge  that  the 
fe%niess  of  one's  regrets  is  among  the  rewards  for  "going  slow."  Sir  Matthew  Hale's  rule ; 
'^  Never  speak  ill  of  anybody,  unless  you  are  sore  they  deserve  it,  and  unless  it  is  necessary  for 
their  amendment  or  for  the  safety  and  benefit  of  others,"— is  a  rule  I  have  always  tried  to  follow. 
Hence,  such  enemies  as  I  may  bAve  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  exciting  envy.  People  generally  would  not  dass  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  Nasi,  neither  is  my  mode  of  looking  at  life  superdli- 
otts  or  nUadmirari.  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  actxial  reach  (like  as  the  Indian  "  had  all  the  time  there  was  "),  and  to  have 
been  robbed  of  no  dumce  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  T  apply 
to  roysdf  the  favorite  poem  of  one  of  the  Cary  sisters  (its  prelude  depicting  a  brilliantly  attractive 
Cfe,  quite  different  from  the  life  she  had  actually  led) : 

**  Yea,  I  said.    If  a  mirade  such  as  this  oould  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, 
N«r  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  roe,  the  best,  or  it  had  not  been,  I  hold." 

Tke^Uamrts  ofiteak- 1         "^^  surjjrise  sometimes  expressed  at  a  man's  willingness  to  put 
•^  y  jpraw^  I  ^^  ^^  printed  page,  where  every  stranger  may  read  them,  those 

tng  Sfuarety.  j  ^^JQ^glJts  about  himself  which  he  never  verbally  reveals  to  hia 

acquaintances,  is  not  really  justified.  In  talk,  there  b  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 
Ai>«self."  No  one  can  be  bored  by  the  printed  page,  for  he  is  under  no  compuluon  to  read  it ; 
while,  as  for  the  writer  of  it,  he  avoids  the  danger  of  being  distracted  and  turned  away  from 
bis  ideal  by  the  "  leading  questions  "  of  a  verbal  interloaitor.  He  tells  simply  the  story  which 
he  thinks  worth  telling ;  and  he  commands  curiosity  to  stop  when  he  is  done.  Still  further,  so 
far  as  an  author's  immediate  associates  are  concerned,  he  realizes  that,  as  Hamerton  says, 
"  familiarity  has  made  him  such  a  commonplace  person  in  their  eyes  that  they  have  only  the 
slightest  curiosity  in  what  he  prints  about  himself.  Believing  that  they  already  know  him  per- 
fectly outside  of  his  books,  they  regard  the  latter  as,  in  fact,  only  a  sort  of  costume  in  which 
be  performs  before  the  public"  For  my  own  part,  I  am  always  ready  to  be  a  listener,  if  I  can 
tempt  any  one  else  to  reveal  his  character  to  me.  It  is  the  one  thing  in  the  world  about  which 
be  inevitably  knows  more  than  I  do ;  and,  if  he  be  a  good  enough  talker  to  interest  me  at  all,  he 


732  TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 

can  surely  interest  me  moot  in  that,  if  only  be  will  Ulk  aqnarely.  In  thb  "  if  "  lies  all  the  t 
The  insincerity  of  a  roan's  egotism  is  what  makes  him  a  borCf—not  the  amount  of  iL  Few  mea 
are  willing  to  discuss  themselves  in  a  scientific  spirit.  Nearly  all  wear  a  mask  cf  some  sort,  and 
are  in  a  consunt  worry  lest  any  casual  remark  may  reveal  the  cracks  in  it.  Hence  thcj  weaxy 
us  by  th^  moiioiouy  with  which  the  best  foot  is  thrust  forward  for  admiration  ;  by  the  timoms 
endeavor  to  make  themselves  seem  better  than  they  are.  It  is  for  thu  opposite  reason  that  iba 
egoasm  of  unsophisticated  childhood  is  so  diarming.  It  aims  simply  lo  r-veal  the  truth ;  it  bv 
no  schema  or  theory  lo  work  o0  upon  us.  Now,  the  highest  function  of  auy  really  cnoob!iag 
•port  is  to  bring  men  back  towards  this  condition  of  chiid.ikc  simplicity,  in  their  relatiom  to  ead 
oth.'r,  as  votaries  of  it  (s33  p.  14).  In  the  presence  of  this  idol,  they  have  no  ambitions  or  rival- 
ries or  concealments.  They  simply  like  to  free  their  minds  and  cxcliange  ideas  in  regard  to  its 
surpassing  merits  and  attractions.  Thinking  of  cyclers  thus,  I  have  assumed  that  they  would 
take  kindly  to  this  "  exhibiaoa  ol  my  mental  processes,"  as  indicative  of  a  character  that  (ccm- 
biuing  pride  without  ostentation,  concit  without  vanity,  and  enthusiasm  without  ambitioiOcaa 
be  counted  on  to  serve  them  squarely.  I  wish  them  to  see  that  my  mind — though  ii  may  col 
be  very  brilliant,  nor  very  profound,  nor  very  original — is  at  least  my  very  own.  If  a**yare 
curious  to  know,  beyond  this,  the  suiistical  details  of  the  life  from  which  it  has  been  developed, 
they  may  discover  the  same  in  the  privately-printed  (graduates'  biographies  which  are  piTserved 
by  the  college  library  at  Yale.  As  for  my  "  patient  treating  of  small  things  as  if  they  wen 
large," — my  "  acceptance  of  Emerson's  maxim  that  no'  man  can  do  any  work  well  who  does  not 
regard  it,  for  the  time  being,  as  the  cent&r  of  the  universe," — the  business-basis  thereof  is  a  beli^ 
that  those  who  are  pleased  by  the  resulting  show  will  talcc  pains  to  increase  my  gate-money. 
I  shall  proclaim  to  them,  therefore,  the  exact  costs  of  the  enterprise,  as  soon  as  the  same  ars 
known  to  me,  and  its  exact  prospects  of  profit  or  loss.  Meanwhile,  the  risk  I  inctur,  in  putting 
so  small  a  price  as  $1.50  upon  a  collection  of  more  than  500,000  words,  may  bs  guessed  at  by  a 
comparison  with  the  best-known  of  recent  subscription-works,  "  Grant's  Memoire,"  wlwse  1131 
pages  contain  only  300,000  words,  though  the  price  is  $7.  My  chance  of  gain  consists  solely  ia 
the  possible  demand  for  large  later  editions,  after  the  ist  ed.  of  6000  shall  have  been  disposed 
of :  because  those  later  eds.  can  be  produced  at  slight  expense  from  the  "  plant  '*  already  pos- 
sessed,—whereas,  in  lack  of  such  demand,  these  electrotype  plates,  which  have  coat  me  so 
much,  will  bs  no  better  than  waste  copper.  I  think  the  eyeing  world  can  be  made  to  *'  absorb  " 
30,000  of  these  books ;  but  the  private  profit  and  the  public  impressiveness  of  the  process  both 
depend  upon  its  promptness.  Desiring,  therefore,  to  "get  through  **  in  3  years  rather  than  30, 
I  say  to  my  assumed  volunteer  helpers,  "  Please  be  quick  about  it  I  " 


Chances  on  t/ie 
down-grade. 


With  his  best  ten  years  just  in  front  of  him,  a  healthy  man  of  aj  is,  t» 
his  own  consciousness,  practically  immortal ;  and  that  may  be  his  general 
feeling  at  35,  in  spite  of  the  death-darts  which  most  needs  meanwhile  atriks 
those  near  to  him.  But,  at  40,  a  man  has  "  climbed  the  peaks  of  Darien  " ;  he  has  began  the 
descent ;  and,  if  at  all  refl  active,  h^  sees  clearly  what  the  end  must  be.  I  have  no  specaal  appro* 
bension  of  reaching  that  end  in  l»s  than  30  years.  My  chances  of  filling  the  appointed  span 
seem  as  good  as  a  man's  well  can  b^ ;  and  I  hope  I  may  be  able  tn  keep  fairly  light-hearted  tn 
the  last.  But  it  is  rijht  that  I  should  record  c:!rtain  events  which  have  tended  to  give  a  serious 
tinge  to  my  recent  m  ^dilations.  O.i  th?  afternoon  of  my  return  from  the  printing-office,  whither 
I  had  carried  the  first  prospectus  of  this  book  (Jan.  la,  '84),  the  breaking  of  an  imn  handle  on 
the  top  of  a  Broadwiy  sti^e  ciu^e-l  m*  tr>  fill  th-ncs  to  the  icy  pavement,  at  the  very  places 
where,  two  years  earlier,  I  hnd  had  a  r^imirkably  narrow  escape  from  being  struck  by  a  runaway 
horse.  A  few  hours  lafir,  while  still  pond^rin;  over  this  grim  coincidence  (for  each  event  ra^ht 
well  have  been  fatah,  word  came  to  me  thit  a  friend  of  long-standing  had  deliberately  killed 
himself.  He  was  ths  oldest  man  of  the  200  in  my  coUetre  class,  and  I  always  looked  upon  hia 
and  took  pride  in  him  as  its  most  representative  mnn.  H:  wis  a  good  comrade  who  appealed 
effectively  to  men  of  diverse  tastes  and  likings.  He  had  commanded  a  battery  in  the  regular 
army  during  the  civil  war,  and  was  of  exceptionally  fine  physique.  No  one  of  us  aeeroed  more 
competent  to  quit  himself  well  in  the  struggle  for  existence.    He  had  faced  Death  in  a  hundrad 


THIS  BOOK  OF  MINE,  AND  THE  NEXT  733 

18,  aiUl  never  flinched ;  but  when  the  time  came  for  him  to  lacs  Life,  he  would  not  do  it  t 
Reflecting  on  the  terrible  strangeness  of  all  this,  **  his  failure,"  as  another  friend  wrote  of  it, 
**  makes  the  greasy  prosperity  of  small  men  hateful  in  my  eyes."  I  recall,  too,  the  death,  from 
simple  overwork  in  ths  effort  to  make  himself  a  leader  in  Congress,  of  an  academy  classmate, 
who  was  the  greatest  physical  giant  I  ever  had  personal  knowledge  of,  and  who  seemed  well- 
fitted  to  stand  the  stress  when  1  last  watched  him  shouting  in  the  great  national  bear-garden  at 
Washington.  His  voice  was  powerful  enough  to  be  heard  through  almost  any  uproar,  and  his 
mere  physical  mass,  supported  as  it  was  by  respectable  mental  gifts,  gave  him  an  enormous 
Advantage  over  the  ruck  of  Congressmen.  Vet  he  had  too  great  ambition ;  and  it  slew  him. 
I  recall  that  more  than  a  dozen  of  the  subscribers  of  this  book  have  died  during  the  progress 
«f  it, — though  they  were  all  younger  men  than  myself,  and  with  better  chances  of  life,  and 
pvesumably  under  a  much  smaller  strain  of  anxiety  and  overwork.  Finally,  I  recall  and  record 
■ay  own  narrow  escape  from  destruction,  June  aa,  '86,  while  riding  from  Flemington  to  Soroer- 
ville,  N.  J.,  i6  m.,  before  breakfast  It  was  about  9  o'clock,  while  on  a  r.  r.  crossing,  1  m.  from 
Sw,  that  I  brought  my  bicycle  nearly  to  a  standstill,  in  order  to  inform  the  driver  of  a  wi^on  on 
ny  right  that  a  part  of  the  mowing-machine  which  be  was  dragging  had  fallen  into  the  road,  a 
abort  distance  behind.  At  the  same  time,  an  omnibus  was  crossing  the  track,  in  the  opposite 
direction,  on  my  left;  and  the  rattle  of  this,  and  of  the  mower,  prevented  my  having  the  slight- 
est warning  of  the  fact  that  a  third  team  was  advancing  in  my  rear.  A  spirited  hone,  attached  to 
«  light  buggy,  being  rendered  somewhat  restive  by  the  rattle  of  the  mower,  and  by  a  boy*s  sud- 
den leap  from  the  same, — the  driver  of  the  horse  took  the  reckless  chance  of  trying  to  pass  be- 
tween me  and  the  omnibus.  He  would  have  done  this  by  a  hair's  breadth,  if  my  course  had  con- 
tinasd  straight,  but  the  variation  implied  in  "slowing  up"  brought  my  left  pedal  in  range  of 
his  buggy ;  and  my  first  hint  of  its  presence  was  a  crash  which  flung  me  forward  right  under  his 
horse's  heels.  As  I  struck  the  ground,  there  was  a  confused  sensation  that  the  forward  hoofs 
of  the  beast  were  in  ths  air  above  and  most  hit  hard  when  they  came  down ;  but,  almost  rairaco- 
loualy,  I  was  not  struck  by  them  at  all,  nor  by  the  buggy.  Though  covered  with  dust,  I  was  not 
seriously  hurt,— neither  was  the  bicycle,  which  I  drove  home  to  New  York,  36  m.  further,  before 
nightfall.  The  leather-covered  palm  of  my  left  hand  took  the  brunt  of  the  fall,  and  was  sore  for 
a  week  or  two,  but  my  arm  was  not  made  lame.  My  head  was  not  injured  at  all,  though  it  might 
wen  have  struck  the  iron  rail,  with  faul  result.  A'together,  it  was  the  "  closest  call "  that  ever 
came  to  me,— not  even  excepting  that  earlier  call  offered  by  the  mules  of  the  tow-path  (p.  44) ;  and 
k  suggested  the  enquiry  as  to  my  wisdom  in  violating  the  vow  recorded  on  p.  388,  after  16  months* 
adherence  to  it  had  rendered  me  doubtful  of  my  ability  to  survive  another  summer  without  aa 
•ccasional  resort  to  the  wheel.  Inaction  has  its  peculiar  dangers  as  well  as  action.  We  cati  vary 
•ur  choice  of  perils,  but  we  can  never  escape  the  perilous  conditions  of  our  mortal  environment 
"  We  stand  on  a  mountain-pass  in  the  midst  of  whirling  snow  and  blinding  mist,  through  whidi 
we  get  glimpses,  now  and  then,  of  paths  which  may  be  deceptive.  H  we  stand  still,  we  shall  be 
frosen  to  death.  If  we  take  the  wrong  road,  we  shall  be  dashed  in  pieces.  We  do  noCoerUinly 
know  whether  there  is  any  right  one.    What  must  we  do  ?  " 

Straight  words  for  I         ^**  quoted  illustration  of  the  whole  mystery  of  human  life  was 
^     ^    .»  I  written  by  James  Fitzjames  Stephen,  for  his  book  on"  Libeny,  EquaU 

M/  finish,  I  .jy^  Fraternity  " }  and  as  those  three  words  well  define  the  relationship 

irhich  cyclers  should  everywhere  hold  towards  one  another,  so  the  illustration  is  one  which  fits 
well  with  their  own  special  experience.  It  attached  itself  to  my  memory,  a  doaen  years  ago, 
together  with  the  answer  which  he  printed  to  his  question,  as  the  final  words  of  the  book,  and 
which  I  have  decided  to  reprint  as  the  final  words  of  this  chapter.  However  inadequate  the 
words  may  seem  as  an  answer,  every  one  most  recognise  the  value  of  their  advice  (the  firrt 
•njnnction  is  that  of  Moses  to  Joshua),  so  far  as  it  goes :  " '  Be  strong  and  of  good  courage.* 
Act  for  the  best,  hope  for  the  best,  and  Uke  what  comes.  Above  all,  let  us  dream  no  dream* 
■ad  tell  no  lies,  but  go  our  way,  wherever  it  may  lead,  with  our  eyes  open,  and  our  heads -erect* 
If  death  ends  all,  we  cannot  meet  it  better.  If  not,  let  us  enter  whatever  may  be  the  aext  sceae 
like  hoaest  men,  with  no  sophistry  in  our  mouths,  and  no  masks  on  our  faces." 


XXXIX. 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


Thb  following  persons  have  each  subscribed  $i  to  ensure  the  puMication  of  this  book, 
and  they  are  authorized  to  persuade  as  many  other  persons  as  possible  to  bay  copiea  of  h  at 
$1.50  each.  Numerals  signify  the  order  of  enrollment  upon  the  subscripcioo-list,- and  towa- 
namcs  show  where  other  details  may  be  found  by  consulting  the  alphabetized  lists  of  tl» 
Geographical  Directory  (XL.)i  in  which  the  States  stand  as  follows  :  Me.,  N.  H.,  Vc,  Mass^ 
R.  I.,  Ct.,  N.  Y.,  N.  J.,  Pa.,  Del.,  Md.,  Dist.of  Col.,  W.  Va.,Va.,  N.  C,  S.  C.Ga.,  Fla.,  Ala., 
Miss.,  La.,  Tex.,  Ark.,  Tenn.,  Ky.,  O.,  Mich.,  Ind.,  111.,  Mo.,  la.,  Wis.,  Minn.,  Dale,  Nebi* 
Kan.,  Ind.  Ter.,  N.  Mex.,  Col.,  Wy.,  Mon.,  Id.,  Wash.,  Or.,  Utah,  Neir.,  Ariz.,  Cal.  After 
these  may  be  found  Canada,  England,  the  various  countries  of  Europe  and  Ana,  and  the 
colonies  of  Australia.  Italics  are  used  in  referring  to  all  these  regions  outside  the  U.  S.  For- 
eigners are  reminded  that  Baltimore  is  in  Md.,  Boston  in  Mass.,  Brooklyn  in  N.  Y.,  Chicago  in 
III.,  Cincinnati  in  O.,  Philadelphia  (shortened  to  "  Phila.")  in  Pa.,  San  Frandsoo  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,  Eqgene  M.,  Philadelphia  108, 2216-29 

Abadie,  E.  R.,  New  Almaden,  Cal.  soia 

Abbott,  Edward  G.,  Diss,  Eng,  2939 

Abel,  P.  L.,  Riverside,  Cal.  2065 

Aborn,  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.,  Mansaeld,  Pa.  1782 

Adams,  D.  C,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  1338 

Adams,  D.  C,  Randolph,  N.  Y.  86 

Adams,  £.  C,  Battle  Creek,  Mich.  2863 

Adams,  Ed^n-in  W.,  New  York  75 

Adams,  F.,  Newark,  N.  J.  2486 

Adams,  Frank  M.,  Rockville,  Ct.  333 

Adams,  Horace  A.,  Willimantic,  Ct.  756 

Adanos,  J.  Fred,  Haverhill,  Mass.  245 

Adams,  J.  Howe,  Philadelphia,  Pa*  573 

Adams,  J.  H.,  Yarroouthville,  Me.  2646 

Adams,  L.,  Eastbourne,  Enf.  2584 

Adams,  R.  G.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2324 

Adams,  Walter  H.,  Worcester,  Mass.  3158 

Adams,  W.  £.,  Melbourne,  Vki.  1710 

Adams,  William,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1671 

Adcock,  A.,  Hobart,  Tas.  3214 

i4dSr4^'Z.iftr<w7,  Easihampton,  Mass.  3201 

Adriance,  J.  R.,  Poughkeepsae,  N.  Y.  490 


Aekison,  J.  D.,  Oakland,  CaL  3233 

Affleck,  Robert,  Gateshead,  Em£.  2784 

Aiken,  W.  H.,  College  HiU,  O.  1933 

Albee,  £.  D..  Wakefield,  Mass.  to* 

Albright,  H.  S.,  Orwigsbuig,  Pa.  3361 

Aklrich,  James,  Spencer,  Mass.  315a,  3153 

Alexander,  A.,  Liverpool,  Eng.  2904 
Allen,  Add  S.,  Summit  Point,  W.  Va.     1437 

Allen,  jr.,  Chas.  W.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1305 

Alien,  F.  H.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1565 

Allen,  N.  G.,  Athens,  N.  Y.  29 

AllertOD,  jr.,  O.  H.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  29$! 

AUey,  Chas.  K.,  New  York  16S3 

Allison,  Geo.  F.,  Oswego,  N.  Y.  89 

Allison,  J.  G.,  (Galveston.  Tex.)  318 

Alliscm,  Robl.,  Greenock,  Sc^,  3079 

Aim,  H.  A.,  Minneapolis,  Mitm.  s8it 

Alter,  C.  H.,  Homestead,  Pa.  2115 

Alvord,  C.  £.,  I>ctroit,  Mich.  66$ 

Alvord,  Jas.  Leslie,  Philadelphia,  Pa.     1369 

American  HoUl^  Allentowo,  Pa.  126$ 

A  m$riea»  Hottstt  Calais,  Me.  2090 

American  Hotae^  Indiana,  P».  1899 

Ames,  E.  H.,  Titusville,  Pa.  %yn 
Ames,  F.  V.,  S.  Abington  Station,  ICaM.  1289 

Am4*  Haum,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark.  272$ 

Amory,  R.  G.,  New  Yoik  i|8B 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


73S 


Anderson,  D.,  Sandhunt,  Vict.  3061 
Anderson,  Robert  W.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.    90a 

Anderson.  W.  B.,  New  York  138a 

Andrews,  £.  J.,  Rockford,  111.  1833 

Andrews,  F.  S.,  Augusu,  Ky.  1163 

Andrews,  J.,  Hobart,  T«u.  3213 

Andrews,  Richard,  Sandhurst,  Vici»  3062 

Angell,  Jas.  P.,  Pine  Blufif,  Ark.  2358 
Annabie,  Edwin  W.,  Fitzwilliam,  N.  H.  3105 
Anthony,  Wendell  P.,  Providence,  R.  I.   830 

Anthony,  W.  R.,  New  York  2403 

App,  W.  A.,  Cleveland,  O.  2015 
Ardill  &  Co.,  John,  Leeds,  Et^.    2451,  2452 

Ariel  Touring  dub^  London,  Ont»  X174 
Ariel  Wheel  Club,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.  701 
Arma1ndo,(M'lle)Loui8e,  Montreal, ^mt.  2462 

Arming,  G.  A.,  Hobart,  Tas.  3212 

Armington,  F.  B.,  Providence,  R.  I.  829 

Armstrong,  R.  L.,  Augusta,  Ky.  990 

Armstrong,  T.  H.,  AugusU,  Ky.  1159 

Arnold,  H.  B.,  New  Britain,  Ct.  1060 

Ashley,  L.  L.,  Norwood,  N.  Y.  2648 

Ashton,  Frank  J.,  Rockford,  111.  1343 

Atherton,  E.  H.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  1558 

Atkins,  Fred.  E.,  Waterbury,  Vt  2114 
Atkinson,  Geo.  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.       219 

Atkinson,  W.  J.,  Baltimore,  Md.  218 

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,  Loub  F.,  Ansonia,  Ct.  2622 

Austin,  £.  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.,  Chicago,  111.  476 

Aybworth,  Robert  M.,  Milford,  Pa.  3025 

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.  Springfiekl,  Mass.  1872 

Bagg,  John  S.,  Springfield,  Mass.  142 1 

Bagg,  Lyraan  H.,  New  York  2340 

Bagg,  Sam.  F.,  Watertown,  N.  Y.  2078 


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.,  RuUand,  Vt.  2170 

Bagot,  H.  C,  Melbourne,  Vict.  2965 

Bahmann,  Wm.,  Cincinnati,  O.  2990 

Bailey,  Herbert  M.,  Portland,  Me.  448 

Bailey,  L.  Herbert,  Baltimore,  Md.  2913 

Bain,  Kenneth,  Oaroaru,  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,  E.  H.,  Cumberland,  Md.  1615 

Baker,  J.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  2670 

Baker,  J.  O.,  Indianola,  la.  2960 

Baldwin,  R.  B.,  Covington,  Ky.  2117 

Baldwiri^  S.  W.,  N.  Y.  1675 
Baldwin,  W.  L.,  Sumford,  Ct.      27,  1720-21 

Baldwin  Houset  Hagerstown,  Md.  1251 

Ball,  Geo.  F.,  Bellows  Falls,  Vt  2144 

Ball,  W.  M.,  Boston,  Mass.  225 

Ballard,  Clarence  W.,  Chicago,  111.  590 

Ballon,  John  S.,  Boston,  Mass.  263 

Bancroft,  Geoige,  Brooklyn  N.  Y.  1672 

Baney  House^  Myerstown,  Pa.  2077 

^<>r /^iMMT,  Brownsville,  Pa.  1805 

Barclay,  John,  Cincinnati,  O.  1936 

Bardeen,  C.  W.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.  1682 

A7r<Aiiri7//tfMsr,  Rutland,  Vt  2294 

Bardy,  N.  R.,  Rutland,  Vt  2165 

Barker,  John,  Mirfield,  Eng.  2680 

Barkman,  A.  B.,  New  York  1370 

Barlow,  Chas.,  Hobart,  Tas,  3210 

Barlow,  F.  G.  F.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2337 

Barlow,  G.  H.,  Corry,  Pa.  2029 

Barnes,  B.  G.,  Corpus  Christi,  Tex.  1036 

Barnes,  E.  W.,  New  York  2988 
Barnes,  Harry  S.,  Orange  Valley,  N.  J.  1373 

Barnes,  J.  M.,  St,  John,  N.  B.  1836 

Barnes,  S.  G.,  Grinnell,  la.  3230 

Bamet,  E.,  Canton,  O.  193 1 

Bamett,  E.  G.,  Springfield,  O.  1700 

Barrett  Hotels  Henderson,  Ky.  2384 

Banrick,  C.  M.,  Washington,  D.  C.  875 
Bartholomew,  C.  C,  Ogdensburg,  N.  Y.  2752 

Bartlett,  Geo.  F.  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1929 

Bartlett,  J.  Kemp,  Baltimore,  Md.,  1920 

Barton,  John  M.,  Rome,  N.  Y.  248$ 

Barton,  Lewis  N.,  Winchester,  Va.  1546 

Barton,  O.  M.,  Rutland,  Vt  2166 


73^ 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Baaiett,  Abbot,  Boston,  Mass.  828 

Basseit,  C.  F.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3084 

Bassett,  Harry  J.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  3176 

Basseti  HoUl,  New  Britain,  Ct.  13 14 

BxsMtt  House,  Birmingham,  Ct.  987 

Batchelder,  C.  D.,  Lancaster,  N.  H.  307 

B.it«s  House t  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2304 

Bates,  J.  R.,  Rutland,  Vl.  2163 

Bates,  W.  G.,  New  York  1389 

Batterfiild,  Arthur  R.,  Hobart,  Tas.  3211 

Battersby,  Jamss,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3265 

Bawn,  Chas.  E.,  London,  Euf^.  2628 

Baxter,  Caleb  G.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1669 

Bayer,  J.  £.,  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.  2x07 

Beal,  E.  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.            190,  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 

Beckwtth,  E.  L.,  (Galveston,  Tex.)  3x9 
Beckwiih,  N.  Mahlon,  New  York    5x2,  z6ox 

Beckwith,  T.  S.,  Cleveland,  O.  1916 

Beddo,  Horace,  Louisville,  Ky.  3010 
Bedford  Cycling  Club,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2437 

Bedford  House,  Bedford,  Pa.  161 8 

Beebe  House,  Elyria,  O.  2352 
Beers  &  Co.,  J.  B.,  New  York        2567,  23C8 

Beers,  Henry  A.,  New  Haven,  Ct  12 15 

Beers,  Jas.  L.,  New  York  2275 

Begg,  W.  M.,  London,  Ofd,  826 

Beggs,  Chas.  N.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  238 

Beggs,  W.  F.,  Paterson,  N.  J.  479 

Belden,  David  A.,  Aurora,  111.  1642 

Belden,  F.  E.,  Hartford,  Ct.  790 

Bell,  Grant,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  1699 

Bell,  H.  H.,  Halifax,  H.  S.  1499 

Bell,  )r.,  Henry  H.,  New  York  2148 

Bell,  Malcolm,  Shrewsbury,  N.  J.  609 

Benedict,  A.  J.,  Little  Falls,  N.  Y.  2657 

Benedict,  Gilbert  S.,  SUmford,  Ct.  680 

Benedict,  J.  G.,  Lebanon,  O.  1229 

Benjamin,  Alfred,  Lincoln  Park,  N.  J.  399 

Benjamin,  B.  S.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  2354 

Benjanin,  T.  Eugene,  New  York  1967 


Benjamin,  W.  R.,  New  York  1324 

Bennett,  A.  A.,  Cincinnati,  O.  tui 

Bennett,  A.  P.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  1336 

Bennett,  Edgar  R.,  Amh<:nt,  Man.  2359 

Bennett,  G.  W  ,  London,  Eug.  9941 

Bennett,  H.  M.,  Manchester,  N.  U.  3312 

Btmniughofcn,  P.,  Hamilton,  O.  1313 
Benson,  Clarence  £  ,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  9690 
Benson,  Ernest  R.,  Ousbridgepoit,  Mass.  366^ 

Bergen,  Frank,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  2347 

Bergen.  J.  B.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  4$ 

Berger,  L.  J.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  22S 

Bernard,  Chas.  E.,  Elgin,  111.  1697 

Bemhard,  Percival  J.,  Jamaica,  N.  Y.  1497 

Berry,  G.  M.,  Columbia,  S.  C.  1296 

Besserer,  John  W.,  Bozeman,  MonL  1360 

Best,  James  B.,  Kinderhook,  N.  Y.  797 

Beswick,  Will,  Auckland,  H.  Z,  240$ 

Bettison,  P.  R.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1423 

Betts,  Frederick  H.,  New  York  1077 

Bevin,  Leander  A. ,  New  York  1  is4 

Bibb,  Harry,  Montgomery,  Ala.  1945 

Bick,  Charles,  Greenville,  Pa.  1579 

Bick,  Eli,  Greensburi^,  Pa.  i«oS 

Bickford,  L.  M.,  Portland,  Me.  284$ 

Bidwell,  Geo.  H.,  Utica,  N.  Y.  1553 

Bidwell,  G.  R.,  New  York  9.11 
Bidwell  &  Co.,  Geo.  R.,  New  York  271  $-2723 

Bklwell,  H.  E.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  2244 

Bicdcrman,  Chas.,  San  Frandsco,  Cal.  280$ 

Bicttc,  Harry,  Woodstock,  Omi.  93$ 

Bi:y,  J.  C.,  Hi 

Binford,  Fred,  Pawtuckct,  R.  I.  2997 

Bingham,  C.  H.,  Utrecht,  Holland  VA 

Bingham,  Wro.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  8» 

Elims,  Henry,  Angora,  Asia  Minor  3297 

Binna,  Walter,  Salford,  Eng.  2632 

Bird,  Rollin  R.,  Waterbury,  Ct.  550 

Biidsall,  Edward  T.,  New  Voik  2^ 

Bishop,  Ply'l.  H.,  Sittingboume,  Bmg,  20S9 

Bishop,  Roland  A.,  Hobart,  Tas.  3039 

Bissell,  Frauk  C,  Neenah,  Wis.  2559 

Bissell,  W.  S.,  Buffato,  N.  Y.  1467 

Bittingcr,  Geo.  S.,  Leadville,  Col.  1629 

Bixby,  James  E.,  Dayton,  N.  Y.  499 

Black,  Owen  J.,  Albion,  Ind.  324s 

Black,  Wm.  M.,  Halifax,  N,  S,  iii 

Blackham,  Gea  E.,  Dunkirk,  N.  Y.  1809 

Blake,  Henry,  New  York  160s 

Blair,  G.  H.,  Tnm>,  N,  S.  nfi 

Biasing,  H.  W.,  Henderson,  Minn.  Ms 

Blenett,  jr.,  Wm.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  I97 

Block,  J.,  Moscow,  j?f«ri0  3148 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


737 


Blosg,  A.  E.,  Toronto,  Omt.  \%n 

Bloodgood,  W.  D  ,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  954 

Boak,  W.  C,  Le  Roy,  N.  Y.  J759 

Boardoum,  C.  £.  C,  Marshalltown,  la.  187 

Boehm,  G  ,  Hoboken,  N.  J.  2774 

Bopr,  J.  U  ,  Fiadlay,  O.  1905 

Boland,  J.  A  ,  MUlvilk,  N  J.  iioi 

Boltoo,  Alfred  M  ,  Sydenluun,  Eng.  ii8a 

Bond,  Stephen  D.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind-  17S1 

Bonnett,  D.  Blake,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.  2051 

BoDoett,  L.  B.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  1530 

Book,  W.  H.,  New  York  1603 

Booth,  Richard,  Medford,  Mass.  1S57 

Booth,  jr.,  S.  P.,  San  Frandaco,  Cal.  a6ia 

Book,  Washington  B.,  Baltimore,  Md.  316 

Bont,  Chas.  A.,  Clinton,  N.  Y.  766 

Borton,  Fred  S.,  Qeveland,  O.  1589 

Boaaon,  F.  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  365 

Bottom  Aih^naum  Librmy,  Mass.  aSp 

Bosworth,  N.  C,  Cleveland,  O.  joaa 

Boiidrias,  jr.,  L.,  Cohoes,  N.  Y.  sSia 

Bourn,  A.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  898 

Bourne,  Edgar  K.,  New  York  510 

Boottell,  Thomas,  York,  Emg.  3995 

Bowditch,  I.  S.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3902 
Bewdoin  Coll.  Librmyi  Brunswick,  Me«  1333 

Bowen,  £.  N.,  Bu£Ealo,  N.  Y.  U63 

Bowen,  P.  J.,  Hobart,  Tat.  s88i 

Bower,  D.  H.,  Newburgh,  N.  Y.  loSa 

Bower£nd,  Geo.  J.,  Adrian,  Mich.  699 

Bowers,  Ralph,  Greenville,  Pa.  1580 

Bowker,  G.  H.,  Meriden,  Ct.  3139 

Bowler,  F.  W.,  Cleveland,  O.  596 

Bowles,  R.  J.,  Brighton,  Ont.  1740 

Bowles,  Wm.,  Castlemartyr,  /rv.  3066 

Bowman,  H.  N.,  Springfield,  Mass.  997 

Bowtell,  jr.,  S.,  Rutland,  Yt  %tfyj 

Boyce,  Chas.  S.,  Portland,  Or.  2674 

Boyd,  Chas.  H.,  Baltimore,  Md.  557 

Boyd,  T.  H.,  Ardmore,  Pa.      %  369 

B^e,  Samuel  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  257 

Brackett,  F.  H.,  Brattleboro,  Yt.  1765 

Bradeen,  Fred  J.,  Springfield,  Mass.  769 

Bradford,  Edward  A.,  New  York  480 

Biadfonl,  William,  New  York  184 

Bradley,  E.  K.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1058 

Bradley,  Wm.,  Kindcrhook,  N.  Y.  2894 

Bradley,  W.  H.,  Sandhurst^  Vict.  3050 

Brainard,  J.  E.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1054 

Braisted,  Otis  S.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2468 

Brakeley,  P.  F.  H.,  Bordentown,  N.  J.  95 
Bnman,  W.  M.,  Mariner's  Harb.,  N.  Y.  2085 

Brandi,  E.  E.,  Lawrence,  Mass.  411 
47 


Brand,  John  B.,  New  Haveo,  Ct  918 

Brangs,  P.  U.,  Newvk,  N.  J.  2598 

Biatt,  Wm.  S.,  Oxford,  Md.  2149 

Braonsdorf,  E.  J.,  New  York  1193 

Brayton,  jr.«  Geo.  B.,  Boston,  Mass.  1286 

Breck,  Geo.,  Portland,  Or.  2098 

Breck,  M.  B.,  Springfield,  Mass.  lois 

Brereton,  James  I.,  Washington,  D.  C.  11 16 

Bresee,  Winston,  Baltimore,  Md.  2731 

Brewer,  Sterlmg,  Qeveland,  O.  1902 

Brewster,  W.  M.,  St  Louis,  Ma  2120 

Bridgeman,  Geo.  S.,  Paignton,  Eng.  3206 

Bridgman,  M.  L.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2049 

Briggs,  F.  W.,  Warmambool,  Vki,  3638 

Brigham,  C.  Pliny,  Baltimore,  Md.  206 

Brimer,  Fred  J.,  Toronto,  Coh,  3330 

Brittd  Ltbrtuyt  Bristol,  Pa.  2190 

BrUisk  Muttum,  London,  Eng.  1142 

Broadbent,  G.  R.,  Melbourne,  yiet.  2882 

Brock,  Fred  W.,  Bristol,  Eng.  3029 

Brooklym  FiMk  Library,  N.  Y.  2707 

Brooks,  Benjamin,  Holyoke,  Masa.  3222 

Brocks  Home,  Brattleboro,  Yt  1764 

Brmtm^s  Hotel,  Newfoundland,  N.  J.  1572 

Brown,  B.  F.,  Lock  Haven,  Pa.  3293 

Brown,  C.  A.,  Genoa,  111.  687 

Brown,  C.  M.,  Greenville,  Pa.  1581 

Brown,  Chas.  R.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2042 

Brown,  C.  Ross,  DansviUe,  N.  Y.  3219 

Brown,  C.  W.,  London,  Eng.  3346 

Brown,  Elmer  £.,  Manchester,  N.  H.  3180 

Brown,  E.  L.,  Rabway,  N.  J.  2478 

Brown,  Fred  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1790 

Brown,  Frank  H.,  RockyHle,  Ct  983 

Brown,  G.  C,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  400 

Brawn,  Geo.  R.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  19S3 

Brown,  Geo.  T.,  Biooklyn,  N.  Y.  2041 

Brown,  Geo.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  95s 

Brown,  H.  D.,  Wcedsport,  N.  Y.  414 
Brown,  H.  H.,  Wappinger*8  Falls,  N.  Y.  511 

Brown,  Herbert  L.,  Harrisburg,  Pa.  358 

Brown,  John  G.,  Danville,  Pa.  433 
Brown,  John  W.  M.,  Long  Sutton,  Eng. 

[2906,  3087-3089 

Brown,  Kenneth,  Chicago,  111.  1975 

Brown,  Louis  H.,  Elmira,  N.  Y.  297 

Brawn,  Morris,  Baltimore,  Md.  336 

Brown,  Orvon  G.,  Cincinnati,  O.  487 

Brown,  Rodney,  Northampton,  Mass.  2248 

Brown,  R.  W.,  Sandhnrst,  Vict.  3057 

Brown,  Thos.  Case,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3256 

Brown,  T.  McKee,  New  York  1385 

Brown,  W.  C,  Cindnaati,  O.  1915 


738 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Brown,  W.  J.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1676 

Browne,  John  T.,  PatevMMi,  N.  J.  iac6 

Browne,  William  G.,  Orlando,  Fla.  886 

Brabaker,  J.  C.  &  P.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3191 

Brwuwkk  H0UI,  TituBville,  Pa.  1535 

Bryan,  G.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1978 

Bryan.  H.  R.,  Hudaoo,  N.  Y.  758 

Bryant,  W.  A.,  New  York  2135 

Bryce,  Wm.  £.,  Indianapdia,  Ind.  a  136 

Buchanan,  C.  P.,  Newport,  Ky.  2734 

Buchanan,  jr.,  James,  Gateshead,  Eng.  3753 

Buchanan,  W.  H.,  Aatigonish,  A^.  ^.  isaa 

Buck,  Uvy  Jay,  Emporia,  Kan.  3506 
Buckingham,  Harry  W.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  635 

Budden,  A.  H.,  Sandhurst,  Vkt.  3051 

Budds,  Geo.  L.,  Sydney,  M  .y.  W.  a886 

Buehler,  L.  M.,  Gettysburg,  Pa.  1355 

Buell,  Frank  S.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  %y»6 
Bull  &  Bowen,  Buffak>,  N.  Y.          3as6>aa6a 

Bull,  Sumner,  Walden,  N.  Y.  3571 

Bull,  Wm.  H.,  West  Springfield,  Mass.  3013 

Bull,  Will  S.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3o« 

BuUock,  Carl,  Worcester,  Mass.  3183 

Bunner,  H.  C,  New  York  917 

Burbank,  J.  P.,  Boston,  Mass.  693 

Burch,  jr.,  John  G.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  513 

Burchell,  John  A.,  New  York  1393 

Burdekin,  R.  E.,  York,  Emg.          333a,  2333 

Burdett,  J.  R,  Nashville,  Tenn.     3387,  339$ 

Burkert,  C.  O.,  AshUnd,  Pa.  3969 

Burklin,  Wm.  C.  H.,  Portland,  Or.  3673 

Burley,  C.  P.,  Stamford,  Ct,  1737 

Burn,  David  W.  M.,  Wellington,  N.  Z.  1883 

Burn,  Edgar  Hine,  Dunedin,  N»  Z,  i88c 

Burnett,  J.  G.  D.,  New  York  3810 

Burnett,  P.,  Dover,  Del.  3009 

Burnett,  W.  Kendall,  Aberdeen,  Scot,  841 

Burnham,  Edw.  P.,  Newton,  Mass.  307s 

Bumham,  W.  H.,  Adrian,  Mich.  431 

Bums,  D.  C,  Bedford,  Pa.  1617 

Burns,  E.  F.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1513 

Burpee,  Herman  N.,  Rockford,  111.  683 
Burr,  T.  S.,  New  York                          470*71 

Burr,  W.  W.,  Rutland,  Vt.  3168 

Burrell,  B.  W.,  Weymouth,  Mass.  60s 

Burrill,  Charles,  Weymouth,  N.  S.  889 

Bumll,  Frank  H.,  Wakefield.  Mass.  3546 

Burroughs,  Fred.  C,  Bridgeport,  Ct  S140 

Burrowes,  Chris  F.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3377 

Bunton,  Geo.  W.,  Melboune,  Far/.  1138 

Burt,  Geo.  H.,  Hartford,  Ct.  355 

Burt,  H.  L.,  Rutland,  Vt.  3169 

Burt,  Wm.  Vinal,  Boston,  Mass.  3307 


Burtis,  C.  W.,  Titusville,  Pa.  1301 

Burtu,  E.  H.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1516 

Bush,  E.  A.,  New  Yoik  240 

Bush,  jr.,  Geo.  M.,  Peoria,  IlL  3490 

Butcher,  Joseph,  Boston,  Mass.  145 

Butcher,  Nelson  R.,  Toronto,  Omi.  1375 
Butler,  Augustus  R.,  W.  Brighton,  N.  Y.1S07 

Butler,  jr.,  John  T.,  Richmond,  Va.  3034 

Butler,  W.  H.,  Glean,  N.  Y.  apoi 

Butt,  W.  L.,  Oamani,  AT.  Z.  1703 

ButUe,  George  M.,  New  Yotk  ao39 

Busby  &  Co.,  G.  N.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1983 

Cabell,  James  B.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2335 

Cade,  S.  I.,  Brownsboro,  Tex.  2413 

Cain,  George  £.,  Lynn,  Mass.  1630 

Caldwell /ftmse,  Caklwen,  N.  J.  1767 

Caldwell,  James,  Elgin,  111.  1476 

Calkins,  Chas.  A.,  Tomah,  Wis.  2953 

Calkins,  W.  Scott,  Millville,  N.  J.  iioa 

Callan,  Hugh,  Glasgow,  Scot.  3196 

Cameron,  Alex.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1411 

Cameron,  G.  D.,  London,  Omt.  1175 

Cameron,  W.  H.,  St.  Joseph,  Mo.  3036 

Camp,  S.  P.,  Trenton,  N.  J.  1966 

Campbell,  A.  B.,  Bradford,  Pa.  2031 

Campbell,  D.  R.,  Westviile,  //.  S.  910 

Campbell,  M.  F.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  933 

Campbell,  NeO,  Niagara  Falls,  N.  Y.  1823 

Campbell,  R.  E.,  Fkwida,  N.  Y.  3968 

Campbell.  Thoe.  P.,  Howard,  Kaa.  1947 

Canary,  D.  J.<  Meriden,  Ct.  364 

Candidus,  E.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  956 
Candy,  Chas.  C,  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan. 

[3»oj,  3107 

Canedy,  C.  F.,  New  Rodielk,  N.  Y.  aooo 

Caner,  Edward  A.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1713 

Canfield,  jr.,  F.  D.,  Phito.,  Pa.       3358,  3359 


Canfield,  W.  W.,  Randolph,  N.  Y. 
Capell,  Will  H.,  Mansfiekl,  Pa. 
Carberry.  Jotoi,  Westfieki,  N.  J. 
Card,  Eugene,  Sherman,  N.  Y. 
Cari,  John  C,  Ansooia,  Ct 
CarmamsvilU  Park  Hoiei,  New  York 
Caimichal,  W.  R.,  BeHeviUe,  Ca$$, 
Carney,  L.  J.,  Portland,  Me. 
Carpenter,  A.  G.,  Providence,  R.  I. 
Carpenter,  Ed.,  WOkesbafre,  Pa. 
Carpenter,  jr.,  Samuel,  Oswego,  Kao. 
Carpenter,  jr.,  W.  W.,  St  Louis,  Mo. 
Cair,  Frank,  Elgin,  HI. 
Carter,  C.  G.,  Titomlle,  Pa.  1314, 1536 

Carter,  E.  C,  Mdboome,  Vkt,  1139 

Carter,  H.  W.,  Woroester,  Mass.  1337 


518 

1781 
1136 
644 
My 

2.s6 

56s 
t624 


3713 
'477 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS, 


739 


Cutter,  R.  W.,  W.  Springfield,  Maas.  1064 

Orrer,  J.  Fred,  Windsor,  N.  S.  91a 

Carwardine,  Guy,  Sandhureti  Vict.  3257 

Gairwazdine,  Hiq;h,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3060 

Carwardine,  H.  S.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3351 

Cary,  J.  S.,  Cleveland,  O.  S026 

Cary,  RoUin,  Elyria,  O.  3087 

Case,  Joe  C,  Peconic,  N.  Y,  706 

Case,  J.  G.,  New  York  1604 

Case,  W.  S.,  New  Briuin,  Ct.  1306 

Casey,  A.  C,  Amherst,  N.  S.  1503 

Caskey,  C.  E.,  Akron,  a  1506 

Casper,  Louis,  Meriden,  Ct.  1403 
Cayuga  Bicyci*  Club,  Weedsport,  N.  Y.  1870 

Ceamond,  D.,  Warmarabool,  Viet,  3639 

Central  Hot^ly  Bardstown,  Ky.  1930 

Chadwick,  John4l.,  Boston,  Mass.  3309 

Chalmers,  Thos.,  New  York  33 
Ckafybeat*  S/rings  Hptel,  Strasbutg, Va.  1347 

Chamard,  F.  J.,  Denver,  Col.  11 14 

Chamberlain,  A.  H.,  Rahvray,  N.  J.  584 
Chamberlain,  jr.,  Thos.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.3534 

Chambers,  J.  M.,  Auckland,  //.  Z.  3S83 

Champion,  Chas.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  144 

Chance,  Wade,  Canton,  O.  3538 

Chandler,  £.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2471 

Chandler,  Louis  E.,  Palmer,  Mass.  69 

Chapman,  C.  E.,  New  York  3406 

Chase,  Alfred,  Haverford  College,  Pa.  1359 

Chase,  G.  Harry,  Rome,  N.  Y.  2511 

Oiaae,  Henry  L.,  Westboro,  Mass.  3826 

Chase,  John,  Cheyenne,  Wy.  1450 

Chase,  James  A.,  Hazleton,  Pa.  17 15 

Chase,  J.  A.,  Pawtucket,  R.  L  337 

Chatworthy,  C.  B.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3038 

Chesley,  Fred  L.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  2366 

Cheyney,  S.  W.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  493 

Chickering,  C.  Ht,  Smithville,  N.  J.  151 1    | 
Chichester,  R.  Nelson,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2441    ! 

Childs,  A.  W.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  •  1559    j 

Chtlds,  Harvey,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  S99 

Chidsey,  H.  Alton,  New  Haven,  Ct  935 

Chtnn,  George,  Marblehead,  Mass.  493 

Chisholm,  A.  N.,  London,  Oni.  3309 

Choate,  Harry  £.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3836 

Christeson,  L.  P.,  Oamaru,  A^.  Z.  1704 

Church,  Fred  S.,  Washington,  D.  C.  874 

Churchill,  Chas.  E.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  2867 

Churchill,  jr.,  C.  P.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1824 

CiDey,  John  H.,  Lebanon,  Pa.  378 

Cimchmati  Wandertrs,  The  1x23 

aUaens  Bicycle  Cbih,  New  York  20I4 

CVSr  LOraryy  Springfield,  Mass.  3816 


Clapp,  Knight  L.,  New  York  220 

Gapp,  Oliver  A.,  Montgomery,  Ala.  2269 

Clapsadel,  F.  A.,-  Jamestown,  N.  Y.  330a 

Clark  HffHse,  West  Point,  Ga.  934 

Oark,  Charles,  Springfield,  Mass.  1008 

Clark,  J.  A.,  Halifax,  N.  J.  3264 

Clark,  R.  B.,  Beloit,  Wis.  1403 
Clark,  Samuel  T.,  Baltimore,  Md.      161-170 

Oark,  W.  G.,  Greenville,  Mich.  2558 

Clarke,  C.  C,  Carenovia,  N.  Y.  823 

Qarke,  Chas.  M.,  PittsbuiK,  Pa.  2876 

Qarke,  E.  C,  Holyoke,  Mass.  408 

Clarke,  F.  S.,  Portland,  Me.  3843 

Clarke,  Maurice  E.,  Derby,  Ct  988 

Oarke,  Robert,  Ridgefield,  N.  J.  6 

Oarke,  Wm.  C,  New  York  3-5 

Clarkson,  R.  C,  Beverly,  N.  J.  643 

Clay,  W.  E.,  London,  Eng.  2667 

Clayton,  Gilbert  O.,  Aurora,  111.  1503 

Clewell,  Harry  E.,  Nazareth, 'Pa.  3224 

Clough,  Joseph  L.,  Portland,  Me.  449 

Clum,  Phil.  A.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  755 

Qute,  Jacob  W.,  Schenectady,  N.  Y.  129 

Outh,  Charies,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  960 

Cobb,  A.  Polhemus,  Flushing,  L.  T.  191 

Cobsctwk  Hotel,  Lubec,  Me.  2096 

Cobum,  Thos.  W.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3363 

Cock,  Chas.  S.,  Canton,  O.  137 

Cockbum,  James,  Mansfield,  Pa.  1779 
Coddington,  Wilbur  F.,  Newark,  N.  J.    744 

Coe,  S.  W.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1630 

Coc,  W.  E.,  Peoria,  111.  2580 

Coffee,  jr.,  W.  F.,  New  York  8i-8a 

Cogswell,  A.  E.,  Sackville,  N.  B,  3798 

Cogswell,  A.  W.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  1919 
Colbath,  D.W.,  Boston,  Mass.  1465,3543-2544 

Colbath,  James  E.,  Boston,  Mass.  2014 

Cole,  C.  H.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  2389 

Cole,  El  wood  A.,  Peoria,  111.  2581 

Cole,  Ed.  W.,  Scott  Haven,  Pa.  2312 

Coleman,  A.  G.,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.  171 

Coleman,  Fred  A.,  New  York  14 

Coleman,  G.  Pembroke,  London,  Eng.  2683 

Coles  Mouse y  Wellsboro,  Pa.  2413 

Coles,  J.  Howard,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2386 

Collier,  W.  F.,  London,  Eng.  notyj 
Collins,  G.  R.,  Troy,  N.  Y.             1204,  1375 

Collins,  Geo.  Stuart,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  1156 

Collins,  H.  T.,  Geveland,  O.  2834  ' 

Collins,  John  S.,  Dover,  Del.  3x04 

Collins,  William,  Meriden,  Ct.  3794 

Collister,  Geo.,  Cleveland,  O.  1901 

Colfister,  J.  H.,  Qeveland,  O.  1588  ' 


740 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Colamuide  Haiti,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1763 

Colton  &  Ca,  New  York,              a8o6,  2807 

Oolvin,  Fred  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  13 11 

Comes,  Arthur  N.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2047 

Comley,  William,  Lincoln  Park,  N.  J.  iioS 

Comstock,  W.  C,  Cave  City,  Ky.  3093 

Condon,  T.  G.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  178 

Conger,  A.  L.,  Adrian,  Mich.  334 

Conger,  Kenyon  B.,  Akron,  O.  3466 
C^H^rtu,  TkeLOrenyo/t'WiaAiVO^mit'D.  C 

Conklin,  C.  C,  Scranton,  Pa.  3199 

Conklin,  Wm.  G.,  New  York  3999 

Conkling,  Howard,  New  York  1338 

Connell,  W.  L.,  Scranton,  Pa.  S196 

Conner,  E.  V.,  New  York  3633 

Connolly,  B.  P.,  Scranton,  Pa.  36 

Conover,  Chas.  A.,  Cold  water,  Mich*  330 

Conilnental  HoUly  Newark,  N.  J.  74s 

Cook  Hotue,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  1092 

Cook,  C.  S.,  Hanover,  N.  H.  1310 

Cook,  Frank  H.,  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.  2105 

Cook,  Fred  R.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  2535 

Cook,  Geo.  R.,  Simcoe,  OtU,  1378 

Cooke,  Chas.  D.,  Paterson,  N.  J.  189 

Cookman,  T.  £.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3444 

Coolid^e,  E.  L.,  Lowell,  Mass.  1316 

Coombe,  F.  E.,  Kincardine,  Out,  1741 

Cooper,  F.,  Christchurch,  A'.  Z.  1886 

Cooper,  W.  H.,  London,  Ont.  835 

Copeland,  A.  D.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3278 

Copland,  James,  Sydney,  N,  S.  fF.  2057 

Copp,  Wm.  A.,  New  York  463 

Corbett,  J.  E.,  Whitehall,  N.  Y.  2467 

Corbin,  Albert  F.,  New  Briuin,  Ct  X059 

Corbin,  G.  E.,  St.  Johns,  Mich.  1653 

Cordingly,  C,  London,  En^,           869,  3360 

Corey,  H.  D.,  Boston,  Mass.  3373 

Corkcn,  Chas  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  1339 

Cormick,  H.  M.,  East  Portland,  Or.  2394 

Corriveaut,  A.  J.,  St.  Johnsbury,  Vt,  2473 

Corson,  Elmer  E.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  3316 

Corson,  £.  H.,  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  717 
Corson,  (Miss)  Mabel  E.,  East  Rochester, 

[N.  H.  3370 

Cortlandt  Whetlnun,  Peekskill,  N.  Y.  543 

Cprthell,  W.  M.,  Springfield,  Mass.  639 

Corwin,  Chas.  E.,  Newburg,  N.  Y.  117a 

Cosack,  jr.,  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1833 

Cossum,  C.  F.,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y,  70a 

Coster,  Charles,  St.  John,  N.  B.  3054 

Cotant,  E.  S.,  Des  Moines,  la.  1090 

Cottrell,  F.,  Oamaru,  N.  Z.  1705 
Cottrell,  M.  Boufdon,  Friendship,  N.Y.  1708 


Conghenonr,  Will,  Irwin,  Pa.  ji8t 

Coitghlan,  J.  C,  Christchoich,  N,  Z.  x888 

Couaer,  M.  W.,  Cornwall,  N.  Y.  971 

Covert,  M.  F.,  Flushing,  U  L  aSoo 

Cowan,  J.  F.,  Pitubuix,  Pa.  jogj 

Cowen,  A.  H.,  Petaluma,  CaL  1746 

Cowhick,  W.  S.,  Clteyenne,  Wy.  ^354 

Cowl,  Clartcaon,  New  York  300 

Cox,  Chas.  M.,  Salem,  Or.  3745 

Coy,  W.  H.,  Kingston,  OnL  907 

Craig,  B.  J.,  Springfield,  Masa.  1034 

Cramer,  Gea  H.,  Lyons,  N.  Y.  3367 

Cramer,  W.  P..  AlWa,  la.  3333 

Crandall,  C.  L.,  Leonaidsvaie,  N.  Y.  3655 

Crane,  A.  S.,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.  3346 

Crane,  jr.,  J.  E.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  3103 

Crane,  Samuel  C,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  3384 

Crapo,  F.  H.,  Concord,  Masc  33x4 

Craven,  Geo.  F.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1363 

Crawford,  Edw.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3188 

Crawford,  Geo.  F.,  Kankakee,  HI.  1094 

Crawford,  Newton  G.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1361 

Crawford,  Wm.  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  337 

Craycroft,  B.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  344$ 

Creagh,  C,  Brick  Church,  N.  J.  1576 

Cressman,  N.  F.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  47 

Cresswell,  A.,  Sandhurst,  Vkt,  90^ 

Cressy,  F.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  xs6o 

Critchfield,  E.  £.,  Mt.  Pleasant,  Pa.  19B6 

Crichlon,  Thos.  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  333$ 
Crittenden,  A.  W.,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.  588 

Crofton,  W.  d'A.,  Welwyn,  Eng,  1974 

Cromwell,  S.  L.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3621 

Crod/y  Hota*^  Defiance,  O.  3343 

Crosby,  C.  R.,  Brattleboro,  Vt  1557 

Crosby,  Frank,  Elgin,  lU.  1478 

Crosby,  James,  Bangor,  Me.  iioo 

Crossman,  Henry  S.,  Springfield,  BAaas.  1191 

Crossman,  M.  R.,  Springfield,  Mass.  xi88 
Crossman,  M|>  F.,  Washington           ^7, 873 

Crothers,  A.  M.,  Springfield,  O.  1911 

Crouch,  Thomas  E.,  Branford,  Cl.  801 

Crumley,  Harry,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  440 

Crow,  William,  Duncdin,  N.  Z,  3767 

Crowe,  W.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  659 

Crowle,  John  D.,  Staunton,  Va.  1371 

Croser,  W.  M.,  Trenton,  N.  J.  1772 

Cudworth,  H.  J.,  Brattleboro,  Vt  §$64 

Culver,  J.  Dana,  Whitehall,  N.  Y.  tjtA 

Gumming,  Thomas,  Stamford,  Ct.  3$07 

Cummings,  S.  W.,  Truro,  AT.  S.  1040 

Cunningham,  Arthur,  Boston,  Mass.  40 

Cunningham,  A.  M.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  4fif 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


741 


Cunningfaam  Co.,  The,  6<»ton,  Mass.  45a 

Cniras,  jr.,  John  P.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1436 

Currier,  A.  F.,  New  York  2080 

Currier,  Mahlou  D.,  Lawrence,  Mass.  1494 

Curtice,  W.  J.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  65a 

Curtis,  Frank  Z.,  Detroit,  Mich.  673 

Curtis,  Howard,  Waterbury,  Ct.  1320 

Curtis,  J.  Arthur,  Reading,  Pa.  450 

Curtis,  J.  W.,  New  York  2887 

Curtis,  Sam.  J.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3366 

Curtis,  Wm.  B.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  846 

Cushing,  D.  Albert,  Chicopee,  Mass.  2732 
Cushings&  Bailey,  Baltimore,  Md.  3226, 3327 

Cushman,  A.,  Bridgewater,  Mass.  2769 

Cushman,  W.  H.,  Portland,  Or.  2672 

Cutter,  Wilson,  Bordentown,  N.  J.  2267 

Daggett,  Wm.  H.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2133 
Dalton,  Joseph  G.,  Boston,  Mass.  1648,  2108 
Dalton,Wm.  E.,  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.  2206 

Daly,  John  J.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1574 

Danell,  Edward,  London,  Eng.  3291 

Danforth,  E.  C,  Providence,  R.  L  no 

Dangers,  £.,  Windsor,  Vict.  2930 

Daniels,  George  S.,  New  York  2405 

Daniels,  M.  O.,  Ruggles,  O.  577 

Danielson,  J.  E.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1830 

Dem  Sweeney's  Saloon^  Harlem,  N.  Y.  2 157 

Danxiger,  Samuel,  Chicago,  lU.  2711 
Darby,  George  B.,  Phila.,  Pa.         1368,  3274 

Dare,  Robert,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  2761 

Darnell,  W.  W.,  Cumberland,  Md.  1249 

I>artwunitk  College  Library,  N.  H.  2859 

Dartt,  Robert  R.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.  24x5 

Dausch,  Pierre  Geo.,  Baltimore,  Md.  223 

Davenport,  Edgar  L.,  Canton,  Pa.  1491 

Davenport,  F.  E.,  Auburn,  Ind.  3409 

Davenport,  Harry  B.,  Canton,  Pa.  1492 

Davidson,  Frank  E.,  New  York  2489 

Davidson,  Henry,  Woodstock,  Ont,  1220 

Davies,  David,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  366 

Davies,  H.  C,  Monmouth,  lU.  2072 

Davies,  Orel  £.,  Springfield,  Mass.  256 
Davis,"  "  Ben,  Towanda,  Pa.             370-279 

Davis,  Chas.  J.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3059 

Davis,  Chas.  S.,  Junction  City,  Kan.  3092 

Davis,  D.  L.,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  1137 

Davis,  E.  C,  Northampton,  Mass.  340 

Davis,  Ed.  L.,  Schenectady,  N.  Y.  130 

Davis,  F.  C,  Auburn,  Ind.  3428 

Davis,  H.  L.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.  2418 

Davis,  J.  W.,  Montreal,  Q%u.  1145 

Davison,  C.  B.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  675 

Davokins,  R.  J.,  Warmambool,  Vict.  2640 


Davofre,GttS.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2132 

Dawson,  D.  M.  M.,  Newcastle,  Ei^.  2564 

Day,  Elmer  A.,  Burke,  N.  Y.  2241 

Day,  Edw.  P.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  246$ 

Day,  George  H.,  Hartford,  Ct.  809 

Day,  jr.,  James  H.,  Ithaca,  N.  Y.  1318 

Day,  S.  H.,  East  Greenwich,  R.  I.  99 
Day  &  Raisbeck,  Bradford,  Eng.  3  x2a,  3123 

Daymond,  A.  G.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  276a 

Dean,  J.  S.,  Boston,  Mass.  94 

Dean,  Norman  R.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  993 
Deans,  Frank  A.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.     858,  2433 

Deats,  G.  C,  Weissport,  Pa.  3349 

DeBaroncelli,  A.,  Paris,  France  1433 

De Blois,  Wm.  M . ,  Annapolis,  AT.  S.  x  x68 

DeCamp,  Frank  E.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1728 

DeForest,  H.  G.,  New  Yoric  5x5 

DeForest,  Harry  L.,  New  York  1075 

DeForest,  Henry  W.,  New  York  5x6 

DeForest,  Johnston,  New  York  5x7 

DeForest,  Lockwood,  New  York  4S2 
DeForest,  R.  W.,  New  York              1068-74 

DeGraaf,  Wro.  H.,  New  York  isjx 

Deguire,  Chas.,  Fredericktown,  Mo.  3018 

DeKlyn,  John  Q.,  Cincinnati,  O.  XS92 

DeUtwtire  Heme,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y.  1293 

Deraarest,  J.  A.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  20x7 

Demorest,  Wm.  H.,  New  York  X3 
Deraphrey,  Edwin  R.,  Jamestown,  N.Y.  3x60 

Demple,  W.  L.,  Halifax,  A^.  S.  658 

DeMunn,  S.  C,  Providence,  R.  I.  380 

Dennison,  C,  Newark,  N.  J.  741 

Densk>w,  P.  E.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  855 

Denton,  S.  S.,  Coming,  N.  Y.  690 

Devon  Inn,  Devon,  Pa.  X762 

Dewell,  Henry  C,  London,  Eng.  2525 

Dewey,  O.  E.,  Mansfield,  Pa.  1783 

Dewhurst,  John,  Bury,  Eng,  2570 

Dcwitt,  David,  New  York  1393 

Dexter,  F.  B.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  455 

Dezendorf,  L.  S.,  Cassadaga,  N.  Y.  753 

Diamond,  C.  Herbert,  New  York  43 

Dickerson,  Wm.  L.,  Walden,  N.  Y.  2905 

Dickinson,  C.  H.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  1968 

Dickinson,  F.  Percy,  Sheffield,  J?m^.  2838 

Dietz,  Frank,  Woodland,  Cal.  2059 

Dietzman,  A.  S.,  l.ouisville,  Ky.  x43$ 

Dikol,  J.  W.,  Charleston,  111.  3074 

Dilks,  P.  Kenney,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  x6oo 

Dimock,  Clarence  H.,  Windsor,  N^.  S.  9x3 

Disney,  W.  H.,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  321 

Ditterdirg,  Wm.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  28x4 

Diver,  Ernest  H.,  Pemberton,  N.  J.  1530 


742 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Dixon,  Fred  A.,  Qsirego,  N.  Y.  1864 

Diium,  Robert,  Greenock,  Scot.  3015 

Dobbie,  John,  Thorold,  Ont.  777 
Dobbins,  Edwin  A.,  Middletown,  N.  Y.    752 

Dobbins,  Frank  S.,  Allentown,  Pa.  X183 
Dockharo,  Chas.  M.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  2365 

DodgtU  HoUi,  Rochester,  N.  H.  2364 

Dodge,  Charles,  Bloomington,  111.  2513 
Dodge,  Chas.  Richards,  Boston,  Mass.    1633 

Dodge,  jr.,  H.  W.,  Austin,  Tex.  356 

Dods,  A.  Wilson,  SUvcr  Creek,  N.  Y.  1927 

Dodaon,  J.  S.,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  1438 

Doland,  S.  C,  Newark,  N.  J.  1340 

DominioH  HoHse,  Annapolis,  N.  S.  1 846 

Donaldson,  W.  £.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  18x3 

Donly,  A.  W.,  Simcoe,  Otti.  1277 
Donly,  Hal.  B.,  Simcoe,  Qui.             534,  535 

Donough,  C.  R.,  Myerstown,  Pa.  2077 

Doolittle,  Perry  E.,  Toronto,  Ont.  843 

Dorim,  S^v6re,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  844 

Dorr,  (ilrs.)  J.  C.  R.,  Rutland,  Vt.  2357 

Dorscy,  Frank,  Glenwood,  Md.  2980 

Dortsch,  J.  R.,  Nashville,  Tcnn.  2464 

Dotter,  Will  S.,  Reading,  Pa.  976 

Doty,  W.  H.,  Yonkcrs,  N.  Y.     '  2153 

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.,  Cleveland,  O.  2833 

Dowling,  James  D.,  Camden,  N.  J.  2397 

Downey,  S.  B.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  1264 

Dcwney  House,  Waynesburg,  Pa.  x8o6 

Downing,  C.  H.,  Peoria,  111.  2502 

Downing,  S.  C,  Yonkers,  N.  Y.  2775 

Downing,  jr.,  Wm.  M.,  Bristol,  Pa.  1788 

Downs,  A.  O.,  Rivcrhead,  L.  I.  2375 

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,  IL  Scudder,  Westboro,  Mass.  100 

Drtmektr  HouUt  Curwinsville,  Pa.  2292 

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.  14x7 

Driscoll,  John,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3258 

Drown,  J.  W.,  Brattleboro,  Vt.  52 

Drullard,  Frank  E.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  16x9 

Dryer,  J.  B.,  Tuskegee,  Ala.  1891 

DuBois,  F.  E.,  W.  Randolph,  Vt.  241 

Dubois,  Frank  G.,  New  York  25 

Ducker,  Henry  E.,  Springfield,  Mass.  349 


Dudley,  Chas.  B.,  Altoooa,  Pa.  3094 

Dudley,  Chas.  E.,  Detroit,  Mich.  668 

Dudley.  W.  W.,  Whitinsville,  Mass.  308 

Duff,  James  C,  Charlestown,  Mass.  1084 
Duffil,T.  P.,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.   2574, 2873 

Dunahue,  Will  J.,  Sindairville,  N.  Y.  522 

Dunbar,  A,  D.,  Peekskill,  N.  Y.  544 

Dunbar,  P.  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  101 1 

Dunbar,  W.  R.,  Cleveland,  O.  2780 

Duncan,  A.  T.,  Hamilton,  Omi.  2754 

Duncan,  Bowman,  Nashnlle,  Tenn.  2379 

Duncan,  Wm.,  Allegheny  City,  Pa.  597 

Dunn,  A.  P.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  xao| 

Dunn,  James  R.,  Massillon,  O.  X914 

Dunn,  W.  Ellis,  Bloomington,  111.  2119 

Dunn,  W.  E.,  NoMesville,  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,  III.  1347 

Durrie,  John,  Brick  Church,  N.  J.  29x1 

Duryea,  Charles  E.,  Wyoming,  111.  106 
Dusenberry,Chas.  S.,  Middletown,  N.Y.  2339 

Duston,  John  S.,  Newark,  N.  J.  382 

Dutton,  Wm.,  London,  Eng.  3x42 

Dwyer,  Thomas  J.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  853 

Dyer,  S.  F.,  Christchurch,  N.  Z,  X887 

Dyotte,  £.  J.,  Springfield,  Mass.  xoi6 

Eady,  B.  F.,  West  Point,  Ga.  932 

Engh  Hotel,  Gettysbuig,  Pa.  1254 

Eakins,  Arthur  W.,  Yarmouth,  N.  5.  189 

Eakins,  W.  G.,  Toronto,  Ont.  jSS 

Earhart,  M.,  Indiana,  Pa.  :899 

Eaton,  Alfred,  New  York  160$ 

Eaton,  A.  L.,  Ottumwa,  la.  244 

Eaton,  Will.  E.,  Wakefield,  Mass.  1847 

Eberman,  J.  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3267 

Ebert,  Horace  M.,  Norristown,  Pa.  2sp 

Eck,  T.  W.,  New  York  2463 

Eckert,  W.  F.,  Curwinsville,  Pa.  X898 

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,  SvfUx,  2566 
Edwards,  Thomas  A.,  Melbourne,  Vkt.  1354 

Egan,  Frank  A.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  475 
Ehrich,  Louis  R.,  Colorado  Springs,  Col.  3342 

Ehriich,  Julius  J.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  2802 

Eldred,  Fred  C,  Springfield,  Mass.  X189 

Eldred,  Will.,  Springfield.  Mass.  1190 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS, 


743 


C14redse,  Frank  P.,  Chicago,  111.  43S 

^Hngwood,  Edward,  Lowell,  Mass.  1457 

Elliot,  H.  R.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3443 

£Ukm,  W.  G.,  Toledo,  O.  1400 

Ellis,  Charles  B.,  Kansas  City,  Mo.  2733 

Mlimtr  Housty  Cornwall-on-Hudsod  3169 

Elmer,  W.  H.,  Winona.  Minn.  884 

MimmoodH^l,  Waterville,  Me.  180a 

Elwell,  Frank  A.,  Portland,  Me.  446 

Elwell,  Frank  D.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  3758 

Elwell,  Isakc,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1789 
Ely,  jr.,  Alfred,  Cleveland,  O.           636,  1900 

E ,  W.  A.,  Catenovta,  N.  Y.  852 

Emerson,  Charles  S.,  Milford,  N.  H.  3120 

Emmett,  H.  J.,  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y.  1623 

Emmons,  C.  G.,  Hamilton,  Ber.  2455 
Emmons,  George  E., Washington,  D.  C.  1464 

Empson,  Fred.  J.,  Melbourne,  Vkt,  1x40 

English^  HoUlf  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2305 

StaigH  HoHu^  Stillwater,  N.  Y.  1859 

Ensley,  O.  P.,  Auburn,  Ind.  2429 

Enslow,  Linn'B.,  Richmond,  Ya.  2959 

Emtkr  Hotel,  Shepherdstown,  W.  Ya.  1436 

EMobal,  Nestor,  St.  George's,  Ber.  633 
Eccott,  Frank  H.,  Grand  Rapids,  Mich.  700 

Estey,  J.  G.,  Brattleboro,  Yt.  1561 

Etherii^on,  Harry,  London,  Bng.  1468 

Eureka  Heuse,  Su£Fem,  N.  Y.  1837 

Evtms,  Hotels  Aurora,  111.  1640 

Eirans,  Clark  W.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  1157 

Eirans,  David  J.,  Llandyssul,  Eng.  9938 

Evans,  Jonathan,  Coal  Dale,  Pa.  3341 

Evans,  Lumley  E.,  Newark,  O.  521 

Evans,  Oscar  E.,  New  Castle,  Ind.  3945 

Evans,  Walter  H.,  Newark,  O.  1787 

Evans,  W.  Kingsley,  London,  Oni.  377 

Evans,  Wm.  P.,  Columbia,  Pa.  176 

Evarts,  Allen  W.,  New  York  3298 

Everett,  Arthur  H.,  Allston,  Mass.  2183 

Everett,  C.  M.,  New  York  1384 

Everett,  W.  B.,  Boston,  Mass.  7 

Ewalt,  Harry  W.,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  1840 

Fairchild,  O.  A.,  Silver  Creek,  N.  Y.  916 
Falkenstein,  Munro,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  2804 

Farley,  G.  P.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  464 

Farmer,  jr.,  E.  G.,  Providence,  R.  I.  83a 

Famell,  A.,  Bradford,  Eng.  3275 

Famsworth,  E.  D.,  Newark,  N.  J.  747 

Farr,  H.  M.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  2385 

Fanally,  Joe  F.,  New  Milford,  Ct.  284$ 

Farrell,  W.  J.,  Peoria,  III.  2491 

Farringttm,  Willis,  Lowell,  Mass.  1446 

FarroD,  Walter  G.,  Hamilton,  Vici,  3035 


Faulkner,  W.  H.,  Walden,  N.  Y.  3371 

Fauquier,  A.  E.,  Mt.  Vernon,  N.  Y.  514 

Fay,  Fred  L.,  Hopedale,  Mass.  2476 

Fell,  Benn,  Bloomington,  IH.  2071 

Fellowcs,  Fred  S.,  Exeter,  N.  H.  3322 

Fennessy,  A.  L.,   Springfield,  Mass.  1025-9 
Fennessy,  jr.,  J.  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1019 

Fenno,  Herbert,  Holyoke,  Mass.  768 
Fenstermaker,  F.  N.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.     959 

Ferguson,  W.  M.,  Jefferson,  la.  2915 

Fichthom,  W.  R.,  Reading,  ^a.  974 

Field,  C.  H.,  Greenfield,  Mass.  12 13 

Field,  F.  F.,  West  Philadelphia,  Pa.  483 

Field,  W.  R.,  Greenville,  Pa.  1582 

Fielding,  Fred.  A.,  Boxeman,  Mont.  1130 

Filbert,  Charles  L.,  Columbia,  Pa.  283 

Fillmore,  Henry  D.,  Bennington,  Vt.  3345 

Filnser,  Herbert,  New  York  330 

Finch,  I.  H.,  Adrian,  Mich.  696 

Finckel,  Geo.  M.,  Washington,  D.  C.  2480 

Fink,  Leon  C,  Detroit,  Mich.  669 

Finkler,  H.  C,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  1713 

Finer,  Wm.  T.,  Washington,  D.  C.  629 

Fischer,  John  B.,  New  York  1234 

Fish,  Eben,  Abington,  Mass.  716 

Fish,  H.  I.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  3813 
Fish,  jr.,  Wm.  H.,  So.  Scituate,  Mass.    2977 

Fisher,  Chas.  H.,  Milford,  Mass.  404 

Fisher,  Ed.  D.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2235 

Fisher,  Fred.,  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.  372 

Fisher,  Janon,  Baltimore,  Md.  3073 

Fisk,  Chas.  A.,  Brightwood,  Mass.  lois 

Fisk,  Ed.  F.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  945 

Fiske,  C.  S.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1022 

Fiske,  George  F.,  Chicago,  111.  719 

Fiske,  Willie  H.,  Holliston,  Mass.  iSi 

Fitton,  J.,  Christchurch,  N.  Z.  1890 

Fitzgerald,  Ed.  A.,  Aurora,  111.  164 1 

Fill  Gerald,  J. ,  New  York  1 1 53 

Fitzgerald,  J.  L.,  London,  Ont.  11 79 
Fitzpatrick,  John  J.,  Ft.  Leavenworth, 

[Kan.  2204 

Flack,  Chas.  L.,  So.  Bethlehem,  Pa.  2 no 

Flanders,  Charles  W.,  Maiden,  Mass.  162 1 

Fleming,  H.  M.,  Portland,  N.  Y.  1150 

Fleming,  J.  N.,  Augusta,  Ky.  989 

Fleming,  W.  T.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2426 

Flint,  Henry  Wame,  Cardiff,  Eng.  2664 
Flint,  Herbert  White,  Cardiff,  Eng.     (2562) 

Flister,  jr.,  Herman,  Boston,  Mass.  2872 

Floumoy,  Chester,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark.  2726 

Floy,  Harry,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  2700 

Fly,  Charles  J.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3064 


744 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Flyna,  Johu  C,  Maoon,  Gft.  3590, 3591 

Fogg,  Enoch  S.,  Woodstown,  N.  J.  486 
Folsom,  Joseph  R.,  New  York        1990-1999 

Folaom,  W.  Burt,  Exeter,  N.  H.  3339 

Foote,  A.  J.,  Warroambool,  VicL  3641 

Foote,  jr.,  W.  T.,  Port  Henry,  N.  Y.  1186 

Forbes,  F.  J.,  Oamani,  N.  Z.  1706 

I   Ford,  Simeon,  New  York  1606 
*  Fortgt  and  Sirtam  Pub.  Co.,  New  York  3339 

Formalt,  Elmer  L.,  Columbia,  Pa.  1646 
Forney,  EdwafU  B.,  Washington,  D.  C.  1933 

'    Forney,  J.  Wilson,  Harrisburg,  Pa.  3037 

Forrtst  Hcus*^  Scranton,  Pa.  3301 

Forrest,  Andrew,  Greenock,  Scoi.  3080 

Forrest,  John,  Greenock,  Scot.  3840 

Forsythe,  Geo.,  London,  Ont.  1180 

Foas,  A.  H.  R.,  Springfield,  Mass.  999 

Foster,  C.  H.,  Middletown,  N.  Y.  .  1197 

Foster,  J.  F.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3364 

Foster,  J.  R.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  3557 
Foster,  S.  Conant,  N.  Y.  (d.  Mar.  8,  '85)  1490 

Foulds,  jr.,  J.  H.,  Springfiekl,  Mass.  1030 
Fowler,  jr.,  Nathaniel  C,  Boston,  Mass.  361 

Fox,  C.  J.,  London,  Eng.  3665 

Fox,  Sidney  Chester,  Enfield,  Eng.  3583 

Francis,  J.  T.,  New  York  1390 

Franklin  Honst^  Columbia,  Pa.  1361 

Franklin,  S.  J.,  Corry,  Pa.  419 

Fraser,  A.  G.,  Toronto,  Oni.  ^yj 

Fraser,  John  F.,  Carmi,  IlL  303 

Frasse,  H.  F.,  New  York  3381 

Frazee,  William  C,  New  York  1607 

Frazier,  Chas.  F.,  Smith ville,  N.  J.  1519 

Frazier,  Edward,  Aurora,  IlL  3343 

Freatman,  E.  B.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  649 

Freeborn,  Fred  H.,  Jersey  Shore,  Pa.  445 

Freeman,  C.  W.,  Peoria,  111.  3501 

Freeman,  Henry  V.,  Chicago,  111.  1407 

Freeman,  S.  H.,  Cleveland,  O.  383 

Freeman,  jr.,  W.  C,  Needham,  Mass,  6x4 

Freidgeon,  Geo.,  Columbus,.  Ind.  3134 

Frishie,  William  M.,  New  Haven,  Ct  936 

Frissell,  Glen.  C,  Merrick,  Mass.  1430 

Frost,  R.  T.,  West  Point.  Ga.  933 

Fry,  F.,  Ealing,  Eng.  3037 

Fulford,  H.  B.,  Qearfield,  Pa.  3384 

Fuller,  E.  W.,  McMinnville,  Or.  3676 
Fuller,  Frank  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  781, 783 

Fuller,  H.  F.,  Chicago,  III.  1633 

Fuller,  L.  I.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  663 

Fuller,  W.  J.,  Hayden ville,  Mass.  70s 

Fulton,  J.  M.,  Bkx>rotngton,  111.  3483 

Fulton.  Wilbur,  Irwin,  Pa.  33 ix 


Gabriel,  John,  Liverpool,  Eng.  a6li 

Gage,  Channing  T.,  Detroit,  Mich.  ns 

Gager,  E.  B.,  Birmingham,  Cu  «si9 

Gale,  F.  £.,  Concord,  N.  H.  3515 

Gale,  Jas.  Alvord,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  16B7 

Gale,  Wm.  £.,  MiUbury,  Mass.  313 

Gallie,  Chfls.  R.,  Jamaica,  L.  I.  aSyt 

Galway,  Warner  E.,  Ctocinnati,  O.  zias 
Gamwell,  Roland  G.,  Providence,  R.  I.  ao«B 

Gaonette,  A.  N.,  Rockville,  Ct.  333 

Gardner,  B.  W.,  Pawtucket,  R.  I.  335 

Gardner,  D.  M.,  Calais,  Me.  3090 

Gardner,  William,  Cazenovja,  N.  Y.  ^ 

Gardner,  jr.,  W.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  siao 

Gardner,  Wm.  L.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  not 

Garrett,  Robert  D.,  Dulaney,  Ky.  319$ 

Garrison,  Charles  764 

Garrison,  G.  F.,  Garrison's,  N.  Y.  9079 

Garrison,  Uoyd  McKim  7^19 

Garrison,  J.  R.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  1761 

Ganrey,  Richard,  New  York  770 

Garvin,  M.  T.,  Lancaster,  Fa.  1430 

Gastrock,  John,  Harriabuii;,  Pa.  aof 

Gaterin,  W.  R.,  Belleville,  Ont.  $66 

Gates,  Chas.  £.,  Gerry,  N.  Y.  1544 

Gay,  T.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.  74a 

Gearhart,  Wm.  M.,  Clearfield,  Pa.  aa86 

Geddes,  Geo.  S.,  Melboome,  Vid.  1141 

Geery,  Samuel  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  397 

Geery,  W.  W.,  Newaric,  N.  J.  3^ 

Geil,  John  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3686 
Geisenheimer,  Ed.  G.,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y.  1399 

Geisreiter,  S.,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark.  3799 

Gtneral  Wt^m*  HaUi^  Academy,  Fa.  787 

Gentu*  Htnut,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  336* 

Genung,  Arthur  L.,  Newark,  N.  J.  74S 

Genung,  Chas.  H.,  Madiaoo,  N.  J.  509 

George,  Will  A.,  Orange,  Ind.  3347 

George,  W.  R.,  Sydney,  N.  S.  W,  x^ 

GtUy  HoHu,  Yonkers,  N.  Y.  3153 

Gibbs,  L.  H.,  Scranton,  Pa.  ii« 

Gibbs,  William,  EUzabeth,  N.  J.  1331 

Gibson  &  Hart,  Rockford,  IlL  537 

Gibson,  J.  S.,  Rockford,  IlL  538 

Giddings,  A.  H.,  Exeter,  N.  H.  333$ 

Gideon,  Geo.  D.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1367 

Giffin,  jr.,  J.  H.,  New  York  160I 

Gilbert,  H.  Win,  Derby,  Ct.  80s 

Gilbert,  Melvin  E.,  Sandhurst,  KasT.  3019 

Gilbert,  S.  Eldred,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1307 

Gilchrist,  Harry,  Bedford,  Pa.  i6i# 
Gill,  James  D.,  Springfield,  Maas.  3848,  3819 

Gill,  James  F.,  Meriden,  Ct  w^ 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


745 


Oillett,  M.  D.,  Spriasfiflid,  Maas.  SP 

Gilfigaa,  J.  J.,  Boston,  Man.  363 
GUlingfaaia,  Harold  £.,  Genaantown,  Pa.  46 
GUman,  Wm.  V.,  Nashua,  N.  H.  $8, 1774-78 

Gilmer,  T.  T. ,  Charlotte,  N.  C.  1048 

Gilmour,  W.  G.,  Melboame,  Vid,  1711 

Ginn,  C.  H.,  Springfield,  Maaa.  134 

Gitchell,  Joe  H.,  Haoiilton,  Omt,  1578 

Gnren,  John  B.,  Sot^Boaton,  Maaa.  aoio 

Glidden,  Harry,  Qeyeland,  O.  1591 

GMt  ^«te/,  St  Geoige's,  Btr.  3499 

Glover,  John  S.,  Colombia,  Fa.  1696 

Glover,  Thomas,  Hartford,  Ct  531 

Gobey,  Gea  W.,  Cirencester,  Ri^,  3605 

Godet,*F.  Lennock,  Hamilton,  Btr.  634 

Goetae,  Will.  F.,  Lockland,  O.  3004 
Golder,  Stephen,  Coventry,  Btqr,     800,  3736 

Gonaalex,  G.  G.,  Washington,  D.  C  3141 

Goodall,  George,  London,  Rng.  3530 

Goodhue,  F.,  Bnttleboro,  Vt  1764 

Goodrich,  E.  P.,  New  Britain,  Ct  1066 

GoodseU,  F.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  388 

Goodwin,  Henry  M.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3843 

Goodwin,  H.  R.,  Manchester,  Bng.  3631 

Goodwin,  S.  D.  M.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  3399 

Gordon,  D.  J.,  PUinfield,  N.  J.  3283 

Gorgaa,  Geo.  A.,  Harrisbivg,  Pa.  39 

Gormully  &  Jeffery,  Chvcago,  ID.  3345,  3546 

Gonecht,  W.  Frank,  Lancaster,  Pa.  3868 

G088,  Edward  O.,  Boston,  Mass.  1393 

Gotwald,  Geo.  D.,  York,  Pa.  ia$8 
Gould,  Chas.  W.,  New  York  3616,  3617 
Gourley,  N.  R.,  Glens  Falls,  N.  Y.       90,  91 

Graf,  £.  P.,  PunzsuUwney,  Pa.  1897 

Graham,  jr.,  J.  S.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1471 

Graham,  W.  £.,  St  John,  tf.  B.  3156 

Graif,  Philip,  Athens,  N.  Y.  1187 

Grtmd  Ctniral  HoUi^  St  Cloud,  Minn.  3461 

Grand  Uhwh  Hotel,  New  York  335 1 

Grant,  Jas.  E.,  Liverpool,  En^.  3890 

Grant,  John  C,  Chicago,  HI.  3304 

Graves,  B.  F.,  Shepherdstown,  W.  Va.  1436 

Graves,  C.  B.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1819 

Graves,  F.  B.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  648 

Graves,  Louis  B.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  65 

Graves,  M.  E.,  New  York  17a 

Gray,  H.  P.,  Corthmd,  N.  Y.  13 15 

Gray,  John  W.,  Hartford,  Ct  1063 

Green,  B.  Oscar,  West  Chester,  Pa.  150 

Green,  Charles,  Columbus,  Ind.  3133 

Green,  H.  Martin.  Havant,  Eng.  3014 

Green,  Wm.  O.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  199 

Greene,  S.  T.,  BelleviUe,  Oni.  3333 


Greenbanra,  C  S.,  Laramie  Dty,  W.  T.  353 

Greenfield,  J.  H.,  Pittsfield,  Masa.  3085 

Greenleaf,  A.  F.,  Amesbory,  Mass.  316 

Greer,  Robaon  C,  Covington,  Ky.  3 116 

Gregg,  F.  W.,  Tucson,  Arizona  3381 

Gregg,  Geo.  M.,  Kennett  Square,  Pa.  533 

Gridley,  Edward  L.,  New  York  60 

Griesinger,  C  L.,  Medina,  O.  3453 

GrigRs»  John  B.,  Hartford,  Ct.  3356 

Griffin,  Chas.,  Greenwich,  N.  Y.  136 

Griffin,  C.  H.,  Ravenna,  O.  1473 

Griffin,  Seth  J.,  Ogden,  Utah  3371 

Griffith,  M.,  Berryville,  Va.  1348 
Griffiths  &  Co. ,  Coventry,  Eng.      3 1 17, 3 1 18 

Griffiths,  H.,  Much  Wenlock,  Engr.  3360 

Griffiths,  J.  B.,  Utica,  N.  Y.  984 

Grisoom,  Joseph  W.,  Jenkintown,  Pa.  79 

Griswold,  Chas.,  Aurora,  111.  164s 

Groach,  August,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3046 

Giover,  T.  L.,  Galveston,  Tex.  3713 

Grow,  Arthur  R.,  Summit,  N.  J.  3550 

Grase,  A.,  Chicago,  111.  3149 

Gue,  Joe,  Montgomery,  Ala.  876 

Guerin,  B.  C,  Morristown,  N.  J.  1784 

Golick,  John  C,  New  York  359 

Gullen,  W.  F.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3534 

Gulliver,  Wm.  C,  New  York  1981 

Gump,  A.  W.,  Dayton,  O.  783 

Gunckel,  £.  W.,  Middletown,  O.  1336 

Gonnis,  Russell  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  484 

Gonther,  H.  P.,  Louisville,  Ky.  3178 

Guy,  Arthur  W.,  New  York  1674 

Gwen,  Robert,  Canuirvon,  Eng.  3940 

Haas,  J.  Franklin,  Summit,  N.  J.  3147 

Haberbush,  Chas.  E.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  1439 

Hafer,  John,  Bedford,  Pa.  f6i8 

Hager,  Stansbury,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1863 

Hahne,  August,  Newark,  N.  J.  3060 

Haiifax  Motti,  Halifax,  I/.  S.  rsoo 

Hall,  A.  M.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  rsty 

Han,  George  O.,  Bangor,  Me.  3005 

Hall,  jr.,  H.  O.,  Brooklyn.  N.  Y.  957 

Hall,  jr.,  Harry  J.,  New  York  173 

Hall,  jr.,  Thos.  J.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3043 

Hall,  jr.,  Wm.  H.,  New  York  3647 

Hall,  W.  J.,  Boston,  Mass.  3738 

Hall,  W.  J.,  Reading,  Mass.  3768 

Hallam,  Chas.,  Hobart,  Tas.  3316 

HaHam,  Thos.  F.,  Hobart,  Tas.  3309 

Hallett,  P.  B.,  Orange,  N.  J.  1768 

Halkick,  L.  H.,  Portland,  Me.  3979 

Halaey,  C.  H.  K.,  Eliiabeth,  N.  J.  334$ 

Hakey,  M.  W.,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.  1517 


746 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Halatead,  C  T.,  Morrutown,  N.  J.  375 

Hainan,  GeoTKe  £.,  £Uingtoo<  N.  Y.  ao69 
HamiU,  S.  B.,  Springfield,  Mam.  3305 

HamiltoH  Hatdt  Hamilton,  Ber,  3455 

Hamilton,  Jay  Beoton,  Proridence,  R.  1. 3966 
Hamilton,  Robert  A.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  1863 
Hamlin,  Arthur  S.,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.  489 
Hamlin,  George  W.,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.  488 
.  Hamlin,  H.  B.,  Wadena,  Minn.  aoaS 

.  Hamm,  J.  J.,  Halifax,  A^.  S.  664 

Hammar,  A.  H.,  Worcester,  Mass.  714 

Hampton,  jr.,  S.  Wade,  Memphis,  Tenn.  2337 
Hananer,  Chas.  W.,  Covington,  Ky.  aii8 
Hananer  &  Myers,  Covington,  Ky.  3984-86 
Hancock,  B.  P.,  Corpus  Christi,  Tex.  1954 
Hand,  Fred  C,  Scranton,  Pa.  aa6 

Hannon,  G.  £.,  Denver,  Col.  iixi 

Hanson,  Conrad  R.,  Gloucester,  Mass.  1976 
Hanson,  Linwood  £.,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  a688 
Hapgood,  O.  D.,  Orange,  Mass.  3771 

Haradon,  C.  R.,  Springfield,  Maas.  996 

Harberson,  Ben,  Augusta,  Ky.  1160 

Harder,  J.  E.,  Clearfield,  Pa.      '  3347 

Harding,  Edmrard  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  339 
Harding,  M.  A.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  3634 

Haidy,  T.  S.,  Oakland,  CaJ.  37x0 

Hare,  Thomas,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3273 

Harley,  jr.,  Chas.  R.,  Phibdelphia,  Pa.  1365 
Harlow,  Fr«d.  M.,  Springfield,  Vt.  3053 
Hannon,  John  M.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1053 

Harmony,  W.  P.,  Sidney,  O.  303 

Harper,  Wm.  S.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  343 

.Harpster,  J.  W.,  Canton,  O.  S9S9 

Harriman,  Smith  A.,  New  York  3401 

Harriman,  S.  F.,Vineyard  Haven,  Maas.a9Si 
Harrington,  Chas.  R.,  Lyons,  N.  Y.  891,  1149 
Harrington,  E.  D.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1599 

Harrington,  George  S.,  Maiden,  Mass.  1290 
Harris,  Frank  L.,  Harrisonburg,  Va.  306$ 
Harris,  Frank  S.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1363 
Harris,  Howard  P.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3264 
Harris,  J.  M.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1391 

Harris,  P.  M.,  New  York  3^94 

Harris,  Will.  I.,  Boston,  Mass.-  53 

Harris,  W.  M.,  Calumet,  Mich.  3993 

Harrison,  F.  H.,  Fredonia,  N.  Y.  8033 

Harrison,  Reginald  Fairfax,  New  York  3174 
Harrison,  W.  H.,  Mercer,  Pa.  776 

Hart,  A.  A.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  3343 

Hart,  Amos  W.,  Washington,  D.  C.       11 17 
Hart,  E.  SUnley  &  Co.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
[3>54>  315s 
Hart,  G.  E.,  Pipestone  City,  Minn.  329a 


Hart,  George  S.,  Rockford,  111.  aji 
Hart,  H.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.        aa49«2S4 

Hart,  H.  R.,  Croydon,  Enfr.  3896 
Hartford,  Willie  M.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  3317 

Hartshorn,  A.  E.,  Worcester,  Maas.  aSio 

Haruhora,  E.  E.,  Perth  Amboy,  N.  J.  aSaS 

Hartung,  Henry,  Naahville,  Tenn.  3435 

Hartwell,  Edward  M.,  Baltimofe,  Md.  3004 

Harvard  CoUegt  Library,  Maaa.  1319 

Harvey,  E.  W.,  Sparu,  Wis.  31$ 

Harwood,  Henry,  lahpoming,  Mick.  3951 

Harwood,  John,  Paterson,  N.  J.  363 

Hasbrouck,  D.  C,  PeekakiU,  N.  Y.  543 

Hasbrouck,  jr.,  R.  S.,  New  York  548 

Hasking,  C,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3354 

Hastings,  W.  H.,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.  ipS 

Hatch,  H.  L,,  Portland,  Or.  1663 

Hatch,  H.  L.,  Salem,  Or.  3743 

Hathaway,  A.  A.,  Milwaukee,  Wia.  715 

Hathaway,  A.  S.,  Cleveland,  O.  3776 

Hathaway,  D.  J.,  Topeka,  Kan.  331 

Hathaway,  S.  T.,  St.  Mary*s,  Km.  3363 

Haven,  Harry  B.,  Florence,  Mass.  3367 
Haviland,  Thomas  T.,  Newbrni^,  N.  Y.  967 

Hawkes,  F.  E.,  Greenfield,  Mass.  3181 

Hawley,  C.  E.,  Washington,  D.  C  1435 

Hawley,  HaiTy  W.,  Ann  Arbor,  Midi.  678 

Hawley,  John  H.,  Washington,  D.  C  1638 

Hay,  J.  G.,  Woodstock,  Oni,  1333 

Hayden,  H.  A.,  Allentown,  Fa.  1363 

Haydock,  R.  R.,  New  Yoric  2335 

Hayes,  Alfred,  London,  Bag,  1550 
Hayes,  Cheater  C,  Canandaigua,  N.  Y.    588 

Hayes,  Hany,  London,  Eng.  1943 

Hayes,  Herbert,  London,  Eng,  1944 

Hayes,  John  Joeepb,  Hatfield,  Eng.  1943 

Hayes,  William,  London,  Eng.  3793 

Hayford,  H.  Hartley.  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  708 

Haynes,  Fred.  W.,  London,  Eng.  3714 

Haynes,  Gideon,  Boston,  Mass.  3363 

Haynes,  Nelson  T.,  Kansas  City,  Ma  3a63 

Hays,  A.  A.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1799 

Hayward,  A.  H.,  GreenvtDe,  N.  J.  2107 

Hayward,  A.  H.,  New  York  37,7 

Hayward,  P.  H.,  Providence,  R.  I.  379 

Hayward,  J.  E.,  St.  Qoud,  Minn.  3461 

Hayward,  T.  A.,  Susqoehanna,  Pa.  3835 

Haselton,  W.  S.,  Melbourne,  Vict.  3919 
Hazlett,  Charies  A.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  1 
Hazlett,(Mrs.)C.  A.,  Portsmonth,N.  H.  3000 

Heales,  H.  C,  Hamiltan,  Vict.  3036 

Healy,  Wm.  F.,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  1453 

Heath,  S.  F.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  ^8 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


747 


^ebard,  F.  S.,  Cheyenne,  Wy.  789 

Hebcriiait,  Win.  G.,  Madison,  Ind.  149 

Hecknan,  J.  W.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  657 

Heernums,  W.  J.,  Corning,  N.  Y.  691 
H^geman,  Thomas  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  958 

Honing,  A. ,  New  York  1 120 
Hemmenway,  £.  A.,  Dorchester,  Mass.  1495 

Hendee,  George  M.,  Springfield,  Mass.  350 

Henderson,  £.  C,  Qeveland,  O.  2653 

HenderBOB,  John,  Ashland,  Ky.  3190 

Henderson,  J.  S.,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.  1533 

Henderson,  M.  S.,  Eliaaheth,  N.  J.  1532 

Henderson,  S.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2438 

Henderson,  S.,  New  York  3243 

Hcndrickson,  Blake,  Medina,  O.  2342 

Hendrie,  C.  W.,  Stamford,  Ct.  406 

Henry,  H.  S.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3109 

Hentz,  F.  A.,  Boston,  Mass.  2595 

Hepinstall,  C.  H.,  St.  Thomas,  Oni.  1851 

Herendem,  F.  Albert,  Geneva,  N.  Y.  575 

HerfuTth,  Pad,  Elgin,  III.  1479 

Henrick,  C  B.,  Poughkeepeie,  N.  Y.  427 

Herring,  W.  C,  New  York  1487 

Heru,  W.  H.,  Hasleton,  Pa.  1666 

Hetz,  Lewis,  Baltimore,  Md.  186 

Heweitaer,  J.  L.,  Reading,  Pa.  977 

Hewitt,  £.  H  ,  Columbia,  S.  C.  1297 

Heymer,  F.  W.,  Boston,  Mass.  1374 

Hejraer,  £.  R.,  Huntingdon,  Pa.  710 

Hibbard,  Angus  S.,  Milwaukee,  Wis.  1894 

HibsoB,  Robert  F.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  941 

Hichbom,  C.  S.,  Augusta,  Me.  2875 

Hickling  &  Co.,  Maidenhead,  Emg'.  3077 

Hickman,  J.  R.,  New  Castle,  Ind.  3030 

Hickok,  Lester  £.,  Birmingham,  Ct.  804 

Higdon,  jr.,  John  T.,  Owensboro*,  Ky.  2946 
Higginbotham,  C  T.,  Springfield,  Mass.  133 

Higgins,  C.  W.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1504 

Higgins,  F.  £.,  Worcester,  Mass.  806 

Higgins,  Henry  C,  Cincinnatus, -N.  Y.  1690 

Higgins,  H.  Stephen,  Portland,  Me.  2847 

Higginson,  T.  W.,  Cambridge,  Mass.  1800 

Higham,  H.  W.,  Washington,  D.  C.  1246 

Highbeiger,  J.  B.,  Qearfield,  Pa.  1896 

Highland  Heusty  Garrison's,  N.  Y.  2079 

Highland  Mais  Hotel,  High.  M*s,  N.Y.  1866 

Higlie,  T.  C,  Canton,  III.  2678 

Hildreth,  Charles  D.,  Rome,  N.  Y.  2512 

Hill,  A.  M.,  New  Orleans,  La.  1217 

Hill,  £.  F.,  Peekskill,  N.  Y.  545 
Htll,  £.  S.,  St.  Ooud,  Minn.           2458-2461 

Hill,  George  F.,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  2576 

Hill,  Sterling,  Eugene  City,  Or.  1210 


Hill,  Thos.  L.»  San  Frandsco,  CaL  3071 

Hill  &  Tolman,  Worcester,  Mass.  582 

Hiller,  F.  J.,  Cohoes,  N.  Y.  201 

HiUis,  F.  D.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  tibi 

Hills,  Arthur  C,  Brighton,  N.  Y.  213 

Hinckdi£Ee,  B.,  Derby,  Eng.  2891 

Hinds,  C.  G.,  San  Louis  Obispo,  Cal.  3068 

Hinman,  J.  A.,  Oshkosh,  Wis.  3225 

Hobart,  C.  H.,  East  Portland,  Or.  3023 

Hobbs.  C.  A.,  Wilkesbarre,  Pa.  197 

Hoddick,  A.  £.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1821 

Hodges, •£.  C,  Boston,  Mass.  827 

Hodges,  F.  B.,  Rome,  N.  Y.  2540 
Hodgins,  John  G.,  Tralee,  Ire.  2735,  3019 
Hodgson,  George,  Northampton,  Eng.  2839 

Hodgson,  T.,  Amherst,  N.  S.  991 

Hoffman,  jr.,  E.  A.,  New  York  17 

Hoffman,  J.  C,  Jefferson,  Wis.  1459 

Hogg,  J.  R.,  North  Shields,  Eng.  2748 

Hogg,  W.  L.,  Belleville,  Ont.  1321 

Holcombe,  John  M.,  Hartford,  Ct  1415 

Holden,  W.,  Belleville,  Ont.  567 

Holland,  Charles  J.,  Medford,  Mass.  1858 

Holland,  Lincoln,  Worcester,  Mass.  3281 
Hollingsworth,  Sam  P.,  Russiaville,  Ind.  3311 

HoUister,  Frank,  Newbui^h,  N.  Y.  970 

HoIHster,  F.  R.,  Greenfield,  Mass.  355 

Hollister,  G.  T.,  Rutherford,  N.  J.  772 

Hollister,  J.  C,  Portland,  Or.  1664 

Holloway,  M.  F.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2322 

Holloway,  W.  Dosh,  Danville,  Pa.  1449 

Holman,  C.  F.,  Millbury,  Mass.  1192' 

Holman,  G.  W.,  Willimantic,  Ct.  2777 

Holmes,  G.  C,  Brockton,  Mass.  2614 

Hoknes,  Herbert,  Rockville,  Ct.  982 

Holmes,  S.  J.,  Montdair,  N.  J.  2353 

Holt,  Arthur  B.,  Kankakee,  111.  232 

Holiou  Hoiue,  Portland,  Or.  2391 

Honiss,  W.  H.,  Hartford,  Ct.  288 

Honk,  Geovge  W.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.  2417 

HonybuA,  W.,  London,  Eng.  2935 

Hooker,  Thomas,  New  Haven,  Ct.  141 3 

Horn,  Charles  A.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2299 

Home,  Claik  H.,  Chattanooga,  Tenn.  1194 

Home,  R.  H.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1730 

Horton,  G.  H.,  Brattleboro,  Vt  1567 

Horton,  W.  P.,  Qeveland,  O.  3112 

Hosford,  E.  B.,  Denver,  Col.  11 12 
Hotchkiss,  John  B.,  Washington,  D.  C.      40 

House,  Edward  S.,  Hartford,  Ct.  106^ 

Hovey,  C.  F.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  653 

Howard,  Chas.,  London,  Eng.  310a 

Howard,  Chas.  S.,  Boston,  Mass.  1171 


748 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Howard,  Chas.  W.,  Boston,  Man.  1835 

Howard,  H.  T.,  New  York  I4a4 

Howard,  Leland,  Washington,  D.  C  1522 

Howard,  T.,  Salem,  Or.  3746 

Howe,  A.  A.,  Denver,  Col.  1113 

Howe,  O.  R.,  Bralileboro,  Vt.  1561 

Howe,  H.  E.,  Cheshire,  Cl.  2075 

Howe,  W.  L.,  Oskaloosa,  la.  506 

Howell,  Alfred  £.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2434 

Howell,  Charles  D.,  Winterset,  la.  2238 

Howett,  Edgar,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  341 

Howell,  Fred  L.,  St.  Thomas,  Ont.  1332 

Howell,  H.  v.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  5047 

Howell,  Lewis,  Millville,  N.  J.  1103 

Howell,  L.  A.,  MiUville,  N.  J.  2474 

Howland,  Wm.  B.,  Cambridge,  Mass.  312 

Hoyt,  Charles  L.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1739 

Hubbard,  Chas.  P.,  Birmingham,  Ct.  9S5 

Hubbard,  Lyle,  Toledo,  O.  1458 

HubbcU,  H.,  Norwich,  Q.  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.  E.,  Newmarket,  ^«/.  235 

Hughes,  T.  J.,  Liverpool,  Eng.  2443 

Hughs,  L  M.,  Bardstown,  Ky.  1930 

Hun,  George  S.,  ChambersbuTg,  Pa.  96 

Hull,  H.  H.,  Waynesburg,  Pa.  1803 

Hull,  O.  £.,  Chariton,  la.  2273 
Humber&Co.,  London,  Eng,        3126,  3137 

Humphrey,  Eugene,  Yarmouth,  Me.  2694 

Humphrey,  Osman  B.,  Bangor,  Me.  3003 

Humphreys,  Henry,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1447 

Humphreys,  R.  E.,  Irwin,  Pa.  2177 

Hunt,  E.  P.,  Oeveland,  O.  2832 

Hunt,  Riley,  Orange,  Ind.  3348 

Huntington,  C.  G.,  Hartford,  Ct.  2954 

Huntington,  J.  T.,  Oeveland,  O.  1593 

Hurlbutt,  Harry  W.,  Stamford,  Ct  i73« 

Hurlbutt,  Wm.  A.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1724 

Hurxthal,  jr.,  Benj.,  Mansfield,  O.  152 

Huss,  George  Martin,  New  York  1609 

Huss,  Theodore,  East  Saginaw,  Mich.  3007 

Husted,  George  W.,  Camden,  N.  J.  3289 

Husted,  Samuel  G.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  920 

Hutchins,  C.  W.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1035 

Hutchins,  Lovell,  Baltimore,  Md.  563 
Hutchinson,  Chas.  A.,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.    527 

Hutchinson,  F.,  Framingham,  Mass.  3 114 
Hutchinson,  jr.,  R.  G.,  Montclair,  N.  J.  2255 


Hatdiioson  ft  Myers,  Sandlranc,  Kaaf.  jsfi 

Iddings,  Frank  A.,  Warren,  O.  1913 
Ideal  Pen  Co.,  The,  New  Vortc       2758,1799 

Ingalls,  D.  W.,  Uttle  Falls,  N.  Y.  aSo* 

Ingham,  Alfred  M.,  Bratdcbofo,  Vt.  isQi 

Ingram,  T.  L.,  Columbos,  Ga.  19^ 

InttrmUivmal  H0Ul^  Bostoo,  Mtta.  59$ 

Inter-OcHm  H0UI,  Cheyeniic,  Wy.  149s 

IredeU,  George  S.,  Philadelphia,  Ps.  ijtt 

Ireland,  J.  E.,  La  Chute  Mills,  Oi^.  9^ 

Irving,  Arthur  B.,  Weatfield,  N.  J.  1135 

Irving,  J.  G.,  Danbury,  Ct.  979 

Irwin,  A.  B.,  Rushville,  Ind.  373 

Irwin,  Wm.  G.,  Columbus,  Ind.  sui 

Irwin,  W.  R.,  Enporia,  Kan.  233 

Irwin,  W.  T.,  Ptoria,  III.  a49B 

Isaacs,  Chas.  C,  Baltimore,  MdL  559 

Isbell,  W.  H.,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  atji 

Isham,  James  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  679 

/xiffn  Bkyelt  ChA^  New  York  uss 

Jackson,  B.  F.,  Lockport,  N.  Y.  tSio 

Jackson,  C.  L.,  Rutherford,  N.  J.  771 

Jadcson,  Fred  A.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  416 

Jackson,  H.  H.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  ajos 

Jackson,  jr.,  H.  R.,  Rutherford,  N.  J.  328 

Jackson,  Schuyler  B.,  Newnric,  N.  J.  3303 

Jackson,  Thomas  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  $» 

Jacobi,  G.  N.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3074 

Jacobs,  Albert  P.,  Detroit,  Mich.  1079 

Jacobs,  Chas.  H.,  Detroit,  Mich.  1344 

Jacobsen,  Peter  N.,  Detroit,  Mkh.  2408 

Jaffray,  H.  S.,  BrtToklyn,  N.  Y.  2173 
Jagger,  L.  Courtlandt,  Newborgb,  N.  Y.  9^8 

James,  Frank  B.,  New  York  2396 

James,  Mortimer  E.  O.,  London,  Emg.  1745 

James,  Saml  R.,  Schenectady,  N.  Y.  1223 

Janes,  Henry  E.,  New  York  2488 

Jansen,  L.  W.,  Walden,  N.  Y.  2541 

Jaques,  J.,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  1905 

Jarvis,  C.  W.,  Port  Arthur,  Ont.  723 

Jarvis,  H.,  Oxford,  Md.                  aaio,  3273 

Jarvis,  H.  E.,  Buriington,  la.  606 

Jeffords,  H.  R.,  Casenovia,  N.  Y.  993 

Jenidon,  W.,  Columbia,  S.  C  139s 

Jenkins,  Chas.  H.,  Louisville,  Ky.  122 

Jenkins,  Fred,  New  York  ir9 

Jenkins,  F.  M.  S.,  Ottawa,  (htt.  1854 

Jenkins,  H.  J.,  Christchurch,  AT.  Z.  r88s 
Jennings,  A.  F.,  Springfield,  Mass.  2900, 2901 

Jennings,  Geoige  H.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  922 

Jennings,  Walter,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  1323 

Jeralds,  E.  O.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  2497 

Jeasup,  Nelson,  Stamford,  Ct.  173a 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


749 


y 


lewtD,  L.  W.,  Geoiigetown,  D.  C.  s8o8 

ewett,  J.  Waldo,  New  Haven,  Ct  1838 

fimenis,  J.  Oswald,  New  York  38 

lOhnsoD,  A.  A.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  849 

obnaon,  A.  B.,  New  York  963 

(ohnaoD,  B.  F.,  Weymouth,  Mass.  1958 

[ohtMOD,  C.  £.,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  3034 

fohnson,  Elliott^New  York  1387 

ohnaon,  £ph.,^rook1yn,  N.  Y.  950 

ohnson,  E.  P.,  Maivhall,  Mich.  298a 

fohnaoo,  Fred  H.,  Syi^unxse,  N.  Y.  757 

Bson,  Frank  M.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3398 

fohnsoo,  Geo.  H.,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  3599 

ohnson,  Harold,  London,  Eng,  2666 
ohnson,  H.  C,  North  Andover,  Mass.  3898 

ohnson,  Henry  J.',  Ashford,  Eng.  \fyjj 
Fobnson,  Joseph  L.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.   2303 

ohnson,  J.  Q.  A.,  New  York  964 

fohnson,  L.  H.,  Orange,  N.  J.  1489 
fohnson,  William,  Brisbane,  Qwensldnd  2880 

fohnson.  Will  S.,  Newark,  N.  J.  743 

fohnston,  C.  F.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1880 

fohnston,  Paul  S.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  2878 

lOhnston,  Sam.  B.,  Coltmibus,  Miss.  192a 

ohnston,  W.  H.,  Irwin,  Pa.  2178 

ones,  A.  A.,  WiUiamstown,  Mass.  1893 

»,  CKft  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  385 

ones,  Edward  Jas.,  London,  Eng.  2683 
Joms  HoUlt  Forbes^  Weymouth,  N,  S.     890 

Fones,  Gerry,  Binghamton,  N.  Y.  3184 

»,  H.  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1670 

[ones,  Harry  John,  London,  Eng.  2021 

ones,  John,  Jamestown,  O.  285 

oneSf.O.  M.,  Simcoe,  On/.  1279 

ones,  P.  W.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  2865 

ones,  R.  L.,  Charlotte,  N.  C.  108 1 

noes,  T.  D.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2321 

ones,  Wm.  A.,  Richmond  Hill,  L.  L  720 

ones,  Walker  J.,  Harrisburg,  Pa.  1427 

ones,  Wm.  T.,  Coal  Dale,  Pa.  3351 

ordan,  W.  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1031 

odin,  James  T.,  Newburgb,  N.  Y»  965 

foslin,  Joel  A.,  Newburgh,  N.  Y.  969 

fooet,  C.  H.,  Roselle,  N.  J.  2277 

oy,  Charles  F.,  Boston,  Mass.  264 

udd,  H.  A.,  London,  Efig.  2569 

fudge,  Herbert  E.,  Helena,  Mont.  2529 

fudge,  Henry  M.,  Adrian,  Mich.  697 

fudson,  A.  L.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  1470 

ullien,  H.,  Sandhurst,  yict.  joja 

Kahler,  Wm.  S.,  Baltimore,  Md.  553 

Kam,  W.  A.,  Woodstock,  Oni.  578 

Katxentadc,  P.,  TrtaAm,  N.  J.  196$ 


Kauffman,  Bruaer,  Colombia,  Pa.  1694 

Kaufman,  Abe,  Clarion,  Pa.  195 

Kaulbach,  G.  H.,  Greenfield,  Mass.  12 12 

Kavanaugh,  H.  S.,  Cohoes,  N.  Y.  2837 

Keam  &  Co.,  S.,  Sandhurst,  KiW.  3253 

Kearaargt  Hautt,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  2383 

Keck,  Geoige,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  325 

Keene,  Chas.  J.,  Easihampton,  Mass.  2607 

Keer,  Frank,  Newark,  N.  J.  2989 

Keller,  A.  L.,  Elgin,  111.  1480 

Kelley,  Wm.  S.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1510 

Kellogg,  Chas.  A.,  Hartford,  Ct.  793 

Kells,  W.  S.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  2866 

Kelly,  H.  P. ,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  331 

Kelly,  W.  S.,  Lowell,  Mass.  2918 

Kelly  &  Ballard,  Lebanon,  Ky.  ao88 

Kemper,  A.  P.,  Harrisonbuig,  Va.  725 

Kendall,  F.  P.,  Worcester,  Mass.  762 

Kendall,  Hugh  H.,  Coming,  N.  Y.  688 

Kendall,  W.  G.,  Boston,  Mass.  1521 

Kenly,  A.  C,  BalUmore,  Md.  469 

KennaM,  J.  B.,  Clearfield,  Pa.  228s 

Kennedy,  C.  C,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3083 

Kennedy,  Erwin  H.,  Pittsfield,  Mast.  2864 

Kent,  G.  W.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  660 

Kent,  Wm.  Geo.,  Washington,  D.  C  1639 

Kenyom  CcUegt  Ltbrary^  Gambier,  O.  1285 

Kern,  L.  S.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  59a 

Kerr,  D.  W.,  New  Castle,  Ind.  3031 

Kerr,  Henry  H.,  Fort  Worth,  Tex.  1416 

Ketcham,  Reeve,  Cornwall,  N.  Y.  972 

Keyer,  C.  E.,  Elyria,  O.  2353 

Keystone  H onset  Hawley,  Pa.  2076 

Kidder,  H.  S.,  Elmira,  N.  Y.  117 

Kimball,  Edward  J.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  3811 

Kimball,  Fred.  H.,  Bellows  Falls,  Vt.  368; 

Ktnderkoek  Hotel,  Kinderhook,  N.  Y.  2894 

King,  A.  B.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1515 

King,  A.  Foster,  Flushing,  L.  I.  2799 

King,  A.  J.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  65s 
Kings  County  Wheelmen,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  940 

King,  Fred  G.,  Corry,  Pa.  87 

King,  John  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1288 
King,  L.  Stone,  Baltimore,  Md.         417,  418 

King,  Moses,  New  York  2858 

King,  Thomas  Geo.,  Tx>ndon,  Eng,  1941 

Kingsbury,  R.  S.,  Xenia,  O.  1904 
Kinnamon,J.E.,Tilghman*s  Island,  Md.  2470 

Kinch,  Charles  A.,  New  York  1834 

Kinch,  jr.,  Fred.  A.,  Westfield,  N.  J.  2308 

Kipp,  P.  E.,  Schenectady,  N.  Y.  2974 

Kirkham,  LeRoy  J.,  New  Haven,  Ct  924 

Kirkpatrick,  Chas.  R.,  London,  Eng.  3361 


750 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Kirkpatrick,  Sam.  H.,  Middletown,  Ct.  1098 

Kirkpatrick,  T.  J.,  Springfield,  O.  1910 

Kirk  wood,  F.  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  1658 

Kirtley,  jr.,  Wm.,  Defiance,  O.  2343 

Kitchell,  H.  N.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1134 

Kitchell,  J.  C,  Cincinnati,  O.  1935 

KItching,  F.  W.,  New  York             «;,  238a 

Kittinger,  Chas.  H.,  Seattle, Wash.  T^r.  1166 

Klots,  Walter,  New  York  la  19 

Kluge,  Chas,  E.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  aioo 

Knapp,  B.  L.,  Boston,  Mass.  1661 

Knapp,  C.  P.,  Wyoming,  Pa.  2903 

Knapp,  F.  W.,  Rutland,  Vt.  2x64 

Knapp,  Lawrence,  Portland,  Or.  2671 

Knapp,  S.  Norris,  Peekskill,  N.  Y.  546 

Knapp,  W.  F.,  Cleveland,  O.  3021 

Knauss,  Chas.  C,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  1439 

Knight,  Henry  C,  Silver  Creek,  N.  Y.  1926 

Knight,  J.  H.,  Sandhurst,  Vki.  3255 

Knight,  T.,  Eastbourne,  Eng.  2585 

Knowles,  R.,  Can  (prte  Pau),  France^  2668 

Knowhon,  Chas.  M.,  Caxenovia,  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.             2349i  2350 

Koch,  John  H.,  Peoria,  111.  1045 
Koliler,  G.  A.  Edward,  PhUadelphia,  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 

/Kreis,  Harry  P.,  Baltimore,  Md.  374 

Kroh,  C.  E.,  Hoboken,  N.  J.  2293 

;         Kj€pt»ck,  Otto,  Buriington,  la.  1959 

Krug,  Wm.  B.,  Fordham,  N.  Y.  214 

Kudner,  Chas.,  Detroit,  Mich.  671 

Ktigenunn,  E.  E.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1086 

Kugler,  J<^n  G.,  Pottstown,  Pa.  2910 

Kuhns,  John  M.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1752 

Kumler,  L.  M.,  Berwick,  Pa,  1359 

Kusel,  I.  J.,  Springfield,  111.  3328 

La/ayttUy  Hotels  Philadelphia,  Pa.  909 

Lailey,  C.  E.,  Toronto,  Ont.  1271 

Lake  House,  Caldwell,  N.  Y.  1877 

Lake,  Edwin  T.,  New  York  2660 

Lake,  Frank  L.,  Rockford,  111.  684 
Lakin,  J.  A.  &  Co.,  Westfield,  Mass.  333  i-a 

Lamb,  James,  London,  Oni.  11 77 

Lambert,  F.  P.,  York,  Eng.  2897 

Lamoreaux,  D.  A.,  High'd  Ms.,  N.  Y.  1866 
Lamson,  Chas.  H.,  Portland,  Me.      180,447 

LamaoD,  J.  H.,  Portland,  Me.  587 


Landes,  W.  G.,  Springfield,  Mass.  bfo 

Landis,  D.  B.,  Landisville,  Pa.  459 

Landy,  E.  F.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1934 

Lane,  A.  T.,  Montreal,  Que.  $91 

Lane,  Chas.  H.,  Templeton,  Mass.  2411 

Langdown,  W.  H.,  Christchurch,  -.V.  Z.  1883 

Langley,  Charles,  Toronto,  Ont.  i860 

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.  E.,  Armada,  Mich.  aos 

La  Touche,  R.  M.,  Scranton,  Pa.  aaoo 

Lalta,  A.  G.,  Friendship,  N.  Y.  3027 

Latta,  E.  G.,  Friendship,  N.  Y.  3026 

Lauterbach,  John,  Birmingham,  Eitg.  2663 

Lautz,  Howard  O.,  York,  Pa.  1096 

Lawrence,  G.  H.,  Milwaukee,  Wis.  3321 

LawsoD,  Orville  W.,  Louisville,  Ky.  645 

Lawton,  Sanford,  Springfield,  Mass.  222 

Lazarus,  S.,  Sandhurst,  yici.  3045 

Lear,  Henry,  Doylestown,  Pa.  3301 

Learned,  D.  W.,  Kioto, TaAw  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,  Mo.  367 

Lee,  W.  H.  L.,  New  York  2022 

Leeson,  Arthur  J.,  Birmingham,  Eng.  2930 

Lc  Fevre,  Lynn  A.,  Belleville,  O.  2278 

Lefferts,  L.  £.,  New  York  1940 

Leffingwell,  Geo.  £.,  Hartford,  Ct.  795 

Leibert,  Frank  J.,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  3146 

Leisen,  C  L.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2912 

Lemeris,  A.  O.,  Newark,  N.  J.  389 

Lenox  House,  GvtKt)rmz\Ci.  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,  Emg.  3240 

Lester,  C  £.,  Miller's  Falls,  Mass.  3069 

Letcher,  Jr.,  J.  H.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2323 

Le  Touman,  J.  K.,  Baltimore,  Md.  209 
Letts,  Son  &  Co.,  London,  Bug.     3093-3101 

Leve  &  Alden,  New  York  80 

Levering,  F.  D.,  Champaign,  III.  3032 

Lewis,  Arthur^.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  13I 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


1i^ 


Lewis,  Brandon,  La  Fayette,  Ind.  1870 

Lewis,  D.  B.,  Yonkets,  N.  Y.  2776 

Lewis,  £.  G.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  994 

Lewis,  Eugene  H.,  New  York  1657 

Lewis,  Henrjr  A.,  Phtladelphia,  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,  Vict.  royj 

Leypoldt,  Rudolph  G.,  New  Yoric  13 

Libenow,  F.  E.,  Walden,  N.  Y.  a3S6 

Lightloot,  F.  S.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1753 

Lighthouse,  Ben}.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  1817 

Lilley,  Geoiige  P.,  London,  Ont.  11 76 

Ltllibridge  Brothers,  Rockford,  111.  S4o 

Lincoln,  L.  J.,  Lubec,  Me.  2096 

Lindemuth,  £.  £.,  Wichita,  Kan.  a8i 

Lhidenberg,  Heniy,  Columbus,  O.  868 

Lnulner,  jr.,  John,  Newark,  N.  J.  390 

lindquist,  N.  E.,  Menekanne,  Wis.  2996 

Lindsay,  John  S.,  Chattanooga,  Tenn.  1195 

Lindsey,  Frank  A.,  Lynn,  Mass.  1628 

Lindsley,  jr.,  A.  V.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  14x0 

Linkfield,  R.  E.,  Elgin,  111.  1481 

LmonioH  Library^  New  Haven,  Ct  456 

Untx,  W.  D. ,  New  York  3 185 

Lippincott,  Benj.,  Cinnaminaon,  N.  J.  68a 

Lippincott,  G.  A.,  Mt.  Holly,  N.  J.  1513 

Uttell,  Hiram  E.,  Newaik,  N.  J.  39a 

Little,  Arthur  M.,  Roxbury,  Mass.  615 

Uttlejohn,  Edward,  Chatham,  N.  J.  508 

Livingston,  H.  S.,  Cincinnati,  O.  135 
Unuelfym  Park  Hotel,  W.  Orange,  N.  J.  900 

Llewelyn,  F.,  South  Yam,  Viet.  a  155 

Uoyd,  S.  M.,  Goderich,  Ont,  3691 

Locka,  Herbert  E.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3044 

Locke,  W.  S.,  City  of  Mexico,  AUtx.  1925 

LockwDod,  S.  A.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  85 

Lagv  ffouset  Altoona,  Pa.  3336 

Logan,  John  L.,  Harrisonburg,  Va.  3x75 

Lognn,  J«hn  W. ,  Menrtmac,  Mass.  2282 

Logan,  W.  T.,  Glasgow,  Scat.  2679 
London  Cyde  Supply  AsVn,  £nrf'.3X28, 3129 

I>onSf  John,  Irwin,  Pa.  2180 

Long,  J.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  948 

Longenecker,  C.  B.,  Newark,  N.  J.  ao6i 

Longood,  S.  S.,  Meadville,  Pa.  1688 

Lorber,  L.  J.  E.  J.,  Ithaca,  N.  Y.     ■  iia 

Lord,  Frank  N.,  New  York  2635 

Lorens,  Wm.  A.,  Hartford,  Ct.  a8o 

Loiacks,  A.  C.  D.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  943 

Lovell,  George  M.,  Southbridge,  Mass.  429 

Lowey,  WUliam,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  9^ 


Lowry,  A.,  Christchurch,  M  Z.  1353 

Lucas,  Burt  G.,  Monmouth,  Or.  740 

Lucas,  G.  H-,  Springfield,  Mass.  100$ 

Lucas,  G.  Loutrel,  Baltimore,  Md.  56 

Lucas,  Philip  H.,  Mt.  Vernon,  N.  Y.  839 

Ludwig,  Charles  B.,  Baltimore,  Md.  558 

Lufkin,  E.  C,  Titusville,  Pa.  1537 

Luke,  J.  H.,  Sandhurst,  Vkt.  3053 

Lunger,  John  B.,  Newark,  N.  J.  2923 

Luse,  Stephen  W.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  1801 

Lyman,  Charles,  Montreal,  Qut.  3320 

Lynian>  W.  I.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1013 

Lyne,  Lewis  F.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  a  102 

Lyon,  Charles  A.,  Bangor,  Me.  775 

Lyon,  C.  L.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1052 

Lyon,  GeoiTge  A.,  Pittsbuiig,  Pa.  2877 

Mabbett,  Edwin  J.,  Bahimore,  Md.  14a 

Mabie,  Geo.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1678 

McAuslan,  John  W.,  Providence,  R.  I.  242 

McBride,  R.  H.,  Toronto,  Otti.  618 

McCarthy,  John,  London,  Oni.  1x81 
M'Qintock,  W.  C,  W.  Philadelphia,  Pa.  347 

McQure,  S.  S.,  New  Yotk  497 
McComas,  W.  E.,  Hagerstown,  Md.  861, 86a 

McCormack,  W.  H.,  New  York  41 

McCoy,  Wm.  D.,  Wheeling,  W.  Va.  1850 

McCreary,  W.  J.,  New  York  1339 
McCroskery,  L.  W.  Y.,  Newbuigh,  N.  Y.  966 

McCulloch,  Arch.,  Truro,  N.  S.  1041 

McCullouch,  W.  G.,  Trenton,  N.  J.  3907 

McCune,  Jos.,  Columbus,  O.  i9ta 

Macdonald,  Samuel  J.,  Newark,  N.  J.  394 

McDougall,  Chas.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  ao45 

Macduff,  R.  E.,  Cleveland,  O.  3  "3 

McElwain,  J.  S.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  aoao 

McEwen,  D.  C,  Brx)oklyn,  N.  Y.  576 

McFadden,  Walter  C,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  1791 

McFaddcn,  Will.  C,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  1839 

McFarland,  A.,  Corry,  Pa.  3030 

McGarrett,  A.  O.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1007 

MacGowan,  O.  P.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  1548 

McGowin,  J.  W.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  3033 

McGuire,  Philip,  Halifax,  .V.  S.  rsoi 

Mclntire,  John  W.,  Salmon  Falls,  N.  H.  2578 

Mclntire,  W.  W.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  439 

Mcintosh,  H.  A.,  Kincardine,  Oni.  174a 

Mclnturff,  A.  P.,  StTasbur^;,  Va.  1347 

Mack,  F.  O.,  Wahpeton,  Dak.  3390 

Mack,  J.  S.,  Warmambool,  Vki.  2643 

McKay,  G.  W.,  Auburn,  Ind.  3431 

McKay,  S.  L.,  Woodstock,  Oni.  1333 . 

McKee,  Chas.  W.,  St.  John,  AT.  B.  3055 

e,  H.  E.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1736 


752 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


McKenna,  Louis  A.,  Anuapolis,  N.  S.  146a 

McKenney,  C.  F.,  Lake  Ctty»  Col.  3376 

McKenxie,  Alf.  £.,  Truro,  N.  S.  1043 

Macklin,  W.  C,  Frankfort,  Ky.  767 
McKnigbt,  Chaa.  H.,  Springfield,  Mass.  536 

Macknight,  J.,  Newry,  En£,  3937 

McKnight,  J.  B.,  BrookviJle,  Pa.  3786 

McKnight,  W.  M.,  Qearfield,  Pa.  3287 

McLain,  Chaa.  J.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1750 

McLaren,  James,  Ft.  William,  Ont.  505 

McLaughlin,  J.  R.,  Hagerstown,  Md.  1351 

McLindon,  Wm.,  SchuylervUle,  N.  Y.  1878 

McN ,  New  Orleans,  La.  3503 

McNeil,  G.  C,  Akron,  O.  3608 
MacOwen,  Arthur  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  530 

MacOwen,  Frederick,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2345 
McQueston,  £.  A.,  Manchester,  N.  H.   433 

McRae,  E.  H.,  Sydney,  N.  S.  W.  3313 

McWorkman,  Wm.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  3131 

Maddux,  J.  H.,  Warrenton,  Va.  1246 

Magill,  Frank,  Irwin,  Pa.  3179 

Mahaffey,  James,  Clearfield,  Pa.  33S3 

Maier,  Geo.  E.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  323 

Mam  St.  H&Hte,  Silver  Creek,  N.  Y.  1936 

Mains,  Isaac  N.,  Pleasant  Gap,  Mo.  2957 

Mallalicu,  S.  M.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  2086 

Maltby,  L.  U.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  909 

Malvern,  Frank,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y.  3198,  3199 

Mammoth  Cave  HaUl^  Cave  City,  Ky.  3093 

Manaway,  John,  Uniontown,  Pa.  1807 

Mandell,  A.,  Titusville,  Pa.  XS38 

Mang,  A.  G.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1812 

Mann,  Chas.  A.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  3x54 

Manning,  David,  Worcester,  Mass.  14(8 

Manning,  W.  B.,  Kokomo,  Ind.  3179 

Mansfield,  Geo.  E.,  Springfield,  Mass.  64 

Mansfield,  Howard,  New  York  1138 

MoHsiffn  Houstt  Morristown,  N.  J.  1784 

Matuum  House,  Northampton,  Mass.  3348 

Mansion,  Hoitu,  WQIiamstown,  Mass.  1893 

Mansion  House,  Yonkcrs,  N.  Y,  3775 
MitrMekeadBi.  Club,  Marislehead,  Mass.  494 

Marcy,  Arthin*  D.,  Boston,  Mass.  13  58" 

Marion,  Wm.  C,  New  York  2739 

Markell,  Edward,  Baltimore,  Md.  3001 

Marsden,  G.  F.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  1534 

Marsh,  A.  L.  C,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  26S9 

Marsh,  Garence,  Chicago,  III.  3263 

Manh,  D.  W.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  2969 

Marsh,  Geo.  E.,  Hartford,  Ct  794 

Marsh,  W.  C,  Springfield,  Mass.  99s 

Marshall,  A.  S.,  Rutland,  Vt.  2261 

Manhall,  N.  S„  RutUnd,  Vt.  3271 


Martin,  Alf.  P.,  Qeaifield,  Pa.  aatt 

Maftin,  Frank  P.,  Boston,  Mass.  3094 

Martin,  Geoige,  Sydney,  N,  S.  IF.  2314 

Ma«tin,  Geo.  J.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  15*5 

Martin,  James,  Sydney,  A^.  S.  U^.  3325 

Martin,  W.  E.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  1226 

Martin,  W.  W.,  Salem,  Or.  3744 

Martine,  J.  B.,  New  York  2909 

Marvin,  WiD  C,  Ovid,  Mich.  2228 

Maslin,  G.  William,  Baltimore,  Md.  1691 

Mason,  Crawford,  New  York  66 

Mason,  Elliott,  New  York  239 

Mason,  H.  P.,  So.  Kilvington,  Enf-.  2962 
Mason,  jr.,  Vohiey  W.,  Providence,  R.  1.  tju 

Massey,  L.  J.,  Charlotte,  S.  C.  1298 

Matem,  W.  J.,  Bloomington,  IIL  2483 

Mather,  Geo.  £.,  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.  22]6 

Mayer,  Geo.  L.,  Scranton,  Pa.  2294 

Mayer,  V.  F.,  Chicago,  IIL  2137 
Maynadier,  Henry  D., Washington,  D.  C  293 

Miytnard  Hottse,  Soioa,  Ht.  2831 

Mead,  jr.,  Frederick,  New  York  2209 

Mead,  Robert  D.,  Newark,  N.  J.  395 

Mead,  S.  Allen,  PeekskiU,  N.  Y.  754 

Mealy,  A.  E.,  Baltimore,  Md.  442 

Meeker,  James  R.,  Newark,  N.  J.  894 

Meeker,  W.  M.,  San  Frandaoo^  CaL  2623 

Meerhoff,  Charles,  Irwin,  Pa.  2282 

Meeteer,  W.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2310 

Mehring,  H.  W.,  Elgin,  IH.  1482 

Menns,  W.  K.,  Burlington,  Vt.  2970 

Mellor,  Wm.  E.,  Philadelphia,  F^  84 

Mentzel,  A.  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3p 

Mercereau,  E,  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  267S 

Meiisenthaler,  A.  E.,  Fostoria,  O.  443 

Merrill,  Edwin  R.,  Yatmouthville,  Me.  2615 

Merrill,  Fred.  T.,  Portland,  Or.  2573 

MerrilPs  Resianremt,  Hartford,  Ct  223I 

Merritt,  Henry  K.,  Morristown.  N.  J.  246 

Merritt,  W.  H.,  Woodstock.  Omi.  936 

Mersch,  Herman,  Appleton  City,  Mou  2573 

Merwin,  jr.,  E.  P.,  New  Haven,  Cl  2273 

Messer,  Frank  H.,  Stooeham,  Maaa.  2615 

Messier,  Leon  B.,  Canton,  III.  2677 
Metcalf,  H.  J.,  So.  Framingharo,  Mass.  2187 

Metiver,  C,  St.  Heliera,  Eng.  2«l 

Meyer,  Frank  C,  Canton,  O.  mc 

Meyer,  H.  H.,  New  York  216$ 


THE  TH^EE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS.  753 


Meyer,  H.  J.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1754 

Meyer,  jr.,  Jos.  A.,  Canton,  O.  1849 

Meyer,  O.  H.,  Richmond,  Va.  3090 

Meyen,  Geo.  M.,  Washington,  D.  C  1684 

Micbda,  Walter,  Stamford,  CX  IT'S 

Mickey,  H.  E.,  Foatoria,  O.  so« 

Middleton,  W.  H.,  Harrisbuig,  Pa.  194 
MidiBei^wm  IVkMlCbtb,  Middletown,Ct.  3300 

Midgley,  Thomas,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  808 

Mildnim,  W.  W.,  East  Beilin,  Ct  153 

Miles,  Samael  A.,  Chicago,  IlL  3593 

Miles,  W.  G.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1938 

Milhau,  R.  L.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2620 

Milleman.  W.  H.,  New  YoHc  1773 

Miller,  A.  £.,  Shepherdstown,  W.  Va.  1376 

Maier,  jr.,  B.  K.,  Milwaukee,  Wis.  147 

Miller,  C  Herbert,  Huntington,  Pa.  637 

Miller,  Chas.  H.,  Springiiekl,  Mass.  1169 

Miller,  Chas.  M.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  345 

Miller,  Dayton  C,  Berea,  O.  1460 

MUler,  D.  E.,  Springfield,  Mass.  998 

Miller,  E.  C,  Haydenville,  Mass.  703 

Miller,  £.  E.,  Canton,  O.  SSo 

Miller,  Edw.  H.,  PortUnd,  Or.  2393 

Miller,  Frank  A.,  Susquehanna,  Pa.  1196 

Miller.  Frank  S.,  WestfieU,  N.  J.  1 133 

Mnier,  F.  W.,  AshUnd,  O.  179 

Miller,  G.  A..  Sandhurst,  l^icL  3046 

Miller,  Geo.  D.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  42a 

Miller,  Geo.  S.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1009 

MiUer,  Howard,  Newark,  N.  J.  1596 

Miner,  H.  G.,  Meriden,  Ct.  333s 

MiUer,  J.  D.,  Montreal,  Qm.  1144 

Miller,  J.  E.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  120a 

MiUer,  Julius  M.,  Emsworth,  Fa.  3446 

MiUer,  John  P.,  Oswego,  N.  Y.  883 
Miller,  Stuart  C,  Cambridgeport,  Mass.  laSa 

MiUer,  T.,  Ballarat,  yict.  3043 

Miller,  Wm.  Allen,  New  York  1433 

Miller,  W.  H.,  Columbus,  O.  138 

Mills,  B.  O.,  Camden,  N.  J.  isr 

Milner,  W.  E.,  London,  Eng.  1924 

Mflner,  Wm.  N.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1659 

Milton  Bradley  Co.,  Springfield,  Man.  3141 

Milvin,  Samuel,  Waynesbnig,  Pa.  1806 

Minton,  Joseph  C,  Chath«n,  N.  J.  507 

Mirick,  jr. ,  Frank  B. ,  New  York  1833 

Misner,  John  S.,  Peoria,  lU.  3579 

Mitchell,  Alex.,  New  Preston,  Ct  3314 

Mitchell,  a  T.,  Canaodaigoa,  N.  T.  78 

Mitchell,  J.  T.,  Bellowa  Falls,  Vt  a86i 

Mitchell,  W.  E.,  Portland*  Or.  3398 

Mitchell.  W.  L.,  Middlctown,  Ct.  3341 
48 


Mixer,  Earl  A.,  Van  HometviBc,  N.  Y.  3355 

Moessner,  Thomas  £.,  New  York  156 

Moffett,  C  L.,  Newton,  N.  J.  1428 

Monell,  S.  H.,  New  Yoi^k  3145 
Monfort,  W.  L.,Wapp'ger»s  F'Us,  N.Y.  3*43 

Momtroat  BkycU  Club,  Montrose,  Pa.  1660 

Moody,  F.  O.,  Springfield,  Mass.  loai 

Moody,  M.,  Deimison,  O.  3013 
MoonU  CMmfy  HaUt,  Somerville,  N.  J.  1241 

Moore,  Douglas  G.,  Oamaru,  N»  Z,  iiKrj 

Moore,  Frank  C,  New  York  3835 

Moore,  Frank  H.,  Calais,  Me.  3192 

Moore,  H.  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  347^ 

Moore,  J.  L.,  Moorestown,  N.  J.  711 

Moresby,  W.  H.,  Wltham.  Eng,  3963 

Morgan  Houu,  Lee,  Mass.  i368 

Morgan,  H.  P.,  Providence,  R.  L  604 

Morgan,  James,  Bath,  Eng.  3563 

Morgan,  J.  Howard,  Westerly,  R.  I.  6r3 

Morgan,  W.  J.,  Chicago,  III.  1243 

Morrill,  E.  H.,  Rochester,  N.  H.  2318 

Morrill,  G.  B.,  Portland,  Me.  3846 

Morris  Bras.,  Pontypridd,  Eng.  3308 

Morris,  G.  W.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1755 

Morris,  Marriott  C,  Germantown,  Pa.  570 

Morris,  Wm.  M.,  Pontypridd,  Eng.  3307 

Morrison,  W.  J.,  Moorestown,  N.  J.  904 

Morrow,  J.  F.,  New  Orieans,  La.  3917 

Moses,  Frank  W.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  196 

Moses,  Howard  B.,  Trenton,  N.  J.  3134 

Moses,  O.  L.,  New  York  1545 

Mothersill,  G.  A.,  Ottawa,  Oni,  1853 

Mott,  J.  A.,  Scranton,  Pa.  8198 

Mott,J.  C,  NewYoric  83 

Moulton,  F.  O.,  Manchester,  N.  H.  3313 

Moulton,  F.  W.,  Washington,  D.  C  146s 

Moultrie,  Lloyd,  San  Jose,  Cal.  307a 

Mount,  W.  B.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  610 

Mountjoy,  Chas.  E.,  London,  Oni.  1178 

Mudd,  Frank  X.,  Montgomery,  Ala.  783 

Muger,  jr.,  C,  New  York  158 

Muirhead,  J.  A.,  London,  Oni.  834 

Mulford,  Heiachel,  MnivOle,  N.  J.  X104 

Mulford,  W.  S.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  465 

Mumford,  W.  B.,  Adrian,  Mich.  695 

Mundy,  H.  L.,  (Williamsport,  Pa.)  3004 

Muosell,  F.,  Albany,  N.  Y.  34 

Munson,  Arthur,  Stamford,  Ct.  1734 

Murdock,  J.  M.,  Johnstown,  P».  760 

Murphy,  John  W.,  Oxford,  Md.  3396 

Murray,  Wm.  J.,  Truro,  N.  S.  1043 

Murray,  Seward  H.,  Sewickley,  Pa.  3855 

Musaer,  John  S.,  Columbia,  Pa.  1260 


7S4 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


Mjen,  Frank,  London,  Bng,  9964 

Myen,  Philip  N.,  Covington,  Ky.  ao8 

NatimuU  HoUl^  Chambenburg,  Pa.  3790 

National HoUlt  Waynesboro,  Pa.  1J53 

Nedds,  S.  T.,  Groveport,  O.  1199 

NeUl,  Jaa.  W.,  Mine  La  Motte,  Ma  ajio 

Newby,  Geo.  Rayson,  New  Yoik  ia6 

Newcastle,  C.  C,  Portland,  Or.  1665 
N^whall,  Eugene  P.,  Mbneapolis, Minn,  aoo 
New  MeClur*  House,  WbeeUng,  W.Va.  2145 

Newman,  J.  Ernest,  Canton,  Pa.  3636 

Newman,  W.  G.,  New  York  1379 

New  Yin-k  Bicycle  CM  3400 
New  York  Toy  Co.,  New  York       3063-2064 

Nichol,  Robert  W.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  3436 

Nicholas,  Arthur  L,  Youngstown,  O.  1049 

Nichols,  John  W.,  Westfield,  N.  J.  1131 

Nichols,  W.  C,  Oxford,  Md.  3395 

Nicholson,  A.,  St  Louis,  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.  68z 

Niles,  Aaron  R.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.  3430 

Nivling,  Curtin,  Clearfield,  Pa.  2389 

Nixon,  Alfred,  London,  Eng^  843 

Nixon,  T.  S.,  Stafford,  Eng.  253  c 
Nixon,  W.  G.,  Chambersbuig,  Pa.  1137,2747 

Norman,  Bcnj.  M.,  Phfladelphia,  Pa.  284 

Norman,  C.  W.,  aeveland,  O.  1587 
Norman,  Wescott,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  248,  249 

Normecutt  &  Co.,  J.  E.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  1980 

Norris  House,  Lebanon,  Ky.  2088 

Norris,  Albert  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  59 

Norris,  J.  Foxley,  London,  Ef^^.  1250 

Norris,  Will  E.,  Helena,  Mont.  2324 

North,  Wm.,  Teheran,  Persia  3361 

Northern,  C.  C,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2297 

Northern,  J.  B.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2298 

Northern,  K.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  3998 

Northrop,  C.  W.,  Newark,  N.  J.  393 

Norton,  F.  J.,  Wlieeling,  W.  Va.  3145 

Norton,  M.  J.,  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.  347 

Norton,  P.  T.,  BKxabeth,  N.  J.  1526 

Nourse,  C.  G.  K.,  Whitby,  Oul.  724 

Nourae.  W.  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  607 

Nunn,  C.  H.,  Bury  St.  Edmunds,  Eng.  2562 

Nutting,  A.  F.,  Lewiston,  Me.  2970 

Oak,  H.  C,  Merrimac,  Mass.  2300 

Obreiter,  S.  H.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  3239 

O'Connell,  jr.,  Colman,  Limerick,  Ire,  3028 

O'Connor,  Frank,  London,  Eng.  3324 

O'Connor,  Jr. ,  T.  J . ,  Portland,  Or.  2097 


Odell,  Chas.  H.,  Salem,  Mass.  jji 

Odell,  Chas.  \i.,  Caseoovia,  N.  Y.  1118 

Odell,  W.  P.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  jog, 

Oeters,  Gecage  C,  St  Louis,  Ma  399 

Oeitinger,  Jacob,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  109$ 

Ogden,  H.  C,  BCiddletown,  N.  Y.  799 

Ogilvie,  James,  Dundee,  Scot,  1843 

Oglesbee,  R.  B.,  Plymouth,  ImL  a 

Ohnhous,  Louis,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind.  1757 

Okey,  J.,  Sandhurst,  Viet.  jojS 

Oliver,  £.,  Baltimore,  Md.  1432 

Oliver,  Edwin,  New  York  lao 

Oliver,  W.  George,  Edinburgh,  Scot,  jni 

Oliver  &  Co.,  W.  N.^  New  Yoric  2696 

Olmstead,  W.  W.,  Mt.  Carmel,  III.  873 

Olney,  Chaxies  M.,  Mansfield,  Pa.  1780 

Ormsbee,  James  J.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1401 

Orr,  C.  P.,  New  Castle,  Ala.  1047 

Orr,  G.  H.,  Toronto,  Oul.  aa66 

Osbom,  Geoige  P.,  So.  Boston,  Mass.  3003 

Osborne,  G.  N.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  las 

Osborne,  M.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1335 

Osgood,  W.  S.,  St.  Joseph,  Mo.  3139 

Osterhout,  W.  E.,  Orange,  Mass.  3773 

Otis,  Charles,  New  York  4x1 

Ottman,  A.  B.,  Titoaville,  Pa.  1539 

Otto,  Frank  R.,  Williamsport,  Pa.  88 

Oviatt,  N.  C,  Waterfounr,  Ct.  9983 

Ovid  Bicycle  Cbib,  Ovid,  Mich.  1474 

Owen,  O.  L.,  Whitinsville,  Mass.  3317 

Owen,  W.  O.,  Laramie  City,  Wy.  Ter.  ap 

-Owens,  J.  £.,  Liverpool,  Bug.  36te 

Packard,  W.  D.,  Wanen,  O.  1906 

Page,  Arthur  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  ^77 

Page,  Fred  S.,  WilUmantic,  O.  108S 

Page,  Irvin  N.,  Chicopee  Falb,  Mass.  289$ 

Page,  W.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3396 

PailUm,  Alf.  E.,  New  Yorii  15, 16 

Paine,  Richmond  P.,  Meriden,  Cl  1067 

Painter,  J.  W.,  Chrislchuit:h,  N.  Z.  1884 

Painter,  R.  S.,  Washington,  D.  C  369 

Painter,  Wni  H.,  Williamsport,  Pa.  541 

Palen,  Wm.  W.,  Boston,  Mass.  173S 

Palmer,  C  R.,  Burlington,  Vt.  254 

Pabner,  jr.,  Robert,  Noank,  Ct.  3410 

Palmer,  Ralph  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1814 

Paoli,  M.  G.,  New  York  1377 

Park  House,  Curwinsville,  Pia.  189I 

Park  House,  Morristown,  N.  J.  1801 

Parker  Home,  Latrobe,  Pa.  s8i8 

Parker,  A.  B.,  Norristown,  Pa.  2619 

Parker,  Edwin  C,  New  York  asoS 

Parker,  Ed.  F.,  Auburn,  N.  Y.  387 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


7SS 


Plvker,  F.  F.,  Chicopee,  Maas.  1873 

Fu-ker,  F.  M.,  Chicopee  Falls,  Mass.  485 

Pteker,  Wm  W.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1055 

F^khUl,  Charles  £.,  Belvidere,  111.  838 

Pte-ks,  C.  W.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1014 

Farkyn,  Chas.  C,  Boston,  Mass.  1287 

Parmelee,  Edwin  L.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  1874 

Pannelee,  G.  L.,  Boston,  Mass.  1136 

Parmenter,  Jas.  S.,  Woodstock,  Otii.  1221 

Parris,  J.  W.  L.,  Augusta,  Ky.  ii6i 

Parry,  W.  J.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  2766 
Parshley,  F.  B.,  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  2368 

Parsons,  Albert  S.,  Lexington,  Mass.  1218 

Parsons,  F.  H.,  Washington,  D.  C.  2025 

Panons,  Fred  W.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1811 

Parsons,  H.  C,  Natural  Bridge,  Va.  1185 

Parsons,  Walter  H.,  Newark,  N.  J.  381 

Partridge,  W.  H.,  Portland,  Or.  1666 

Patterson,  Sam,  Logansport,  Ind.  2942 

Pattfllo,  J.  B.,  Halifax,  N.  S.  66x 

Pattillo,  T.  S.,  Truro,  N.  S.  1037 

Pattison,  Arthur  E.,  Boston,  Mass.  1327 

Patton,  Geo.  £.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  261 1 

Patton,  J.  Hervey,  Harrisburg,  Pa.  204 

Patton,  S.  M.,  Holly  Springs,  Miss.  1796 

Patton,  T.  M.,  Truro,  M.  S.  1044 

Payfair,  Jos.  £.,  Scranton,  Pa.  3201 

Payne,  Geo.  S.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3279 

Payne,  H.  R.,  Cleveland,  O.  2650 

Payne,  W.  E.,  Rockville,  Ct.  1961 

Payne,  William,  London,  On/.  430 

Pearce,  W.  J.,  London,  Snjr.  197a 

Pearson,  Geo.  B.,  New  York  1383 

Peck,  Albert  F.,  Detroit,  Mich.  2481 

Pfcck,  Wm.  L.,  New  Haven,  Ct  551 

Peirson,  E.  E.,  BaUvia,  N.  Y.  18  r6 

Pdoase,  Frank  H.,  Washington,  D.  C.  107 

Pendleton,  J.  Louis,  Belfast,  Me.  1743 

Pendleton,  Wm.  H.,  Taunton,  Mass.  3170 

Pem^U //aUl,  Ptmfitld,  PaL.  2374 

Penfield,  Chas.  H.,  Oevetand,  O.  2831 

Pennell,  G.  C,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  2698 

Penney,  Frank  E.,  Meriden,  Ct.  1555 

Penniman,  Yates,  Baltimore,  Md.  317 
PennsylvaMia  Bicycle  Cbib^  Philadelphia  519 

Pentecost,  J.  W.,  Scranton,  Pa.  2193 

Peoria  Ptiblic  Library^  Peoria,  111.  2908 

Perego,  Arthur  W.,  New  York  1610 

Periiam,  Will  L.,  Paris,  Me.  880 

Perkins,  H.  A.,  Genoa,  111.  1635 

Perkins,  Howard  L.,  Providence,  R.  I.  1351 

Perkins,  L.  C,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3241 

Pwley,  Ward  B.,  Columbus,  O.  3286 


Perry,  Chas.  S.,  Middletown,  Ct  3218 

Peters,  Wm.  C,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1825 

Pettee,  jr.,  J.,  S.  Abington  Station,  Mass.  250 
PettengiU,  Edw.  T.,  Washington,  D.  C.  473 
Pettus,  Edward,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  94a 

Pferd,  John  A.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1823 

Pforr,  Geo.  J.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  2091 

Pharo,  Charles,  Newark,  N.  J.  1598 

Pharr,  WiU  L.,  Chariotte,  N.  C.  1167 

Phelps,  Henry  G.,  Cleveland,  O.  1989 

Phi  of  Psi  Upsilon,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  730-39 
Philadelphia  Bicycle  CM,  60  N.  13th  st  306 
Philbrick,  A.  J.,  Salem,  Maas.  155 

Philips,  Clayton,  Waynesboro,  Pa.  2708 

Philips,  Geo.  &  Son,  London,  Eng-.  3334, 3335 
Phillip,  Frank,  Scranton,  Pa.  2508 

Phillips,  A.  A.,  London,  Emj^.  1971,  3221 
Phillips,  A.  L.,  Pottsville,  Pa.  17 16 

Phillips,  R.  £.,  London,  Em£^.  2239,  3'36 
Photo-Electrotype  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.  2449 
Pickard,  Daniel,  Northampton,  Mass.  2536 
Pierce,  Ash,  Butte,  Mont  1330 

Pierrepont,  J.  Shepherd,  New  Haven,  Ct.  921 
Pienon,  Arthur  N.,  Westfield,  N.  J.  1132 
Pierson,  John  V.  L.,  Bloomfield,  N.  J.  2785 
Pierson,  Leopold,  Romford,  Etig:  20x8,  2933 
Pigman,  J.  R.,  Cincinnati,  O.  2760 

Pilling,  Chas.  J.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  1656 

Pinkerton,  Chas.  E.,  Zanesville,  O.  2158 
Pitcher,  Wilbert  R.,  Portland,  Me.  1627 

Pitman,  Will  R.,  New  York  1378 

Pittenger,  Wm.,  Haddonfield,  N.  J.  2975 
Pittsburg  Fire  Arms  Co.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.  2879 
Place,  v.  C,  Pinos  Altos,  N.  M.  1583 

Plait,  H.  M.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  1876 

Plowe,  C.  Harold,  Peoria,  111.  2494 

Plumb,  Garence,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2127 
Plumb,  jr.,  Willie  E.,  Birmingham,  Ct.  986 
Pluromer,  jr.,  W.  E.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  1820 
Poage,  Ashland,  Ashland,  Ky.  3168 

Polhill,  J.  H.,  Macon,  Ga.  1957 

Polk,  J.  Knox,  Nashville,  Tenn.  2348 

Polk,  R.  H.,  Montgomery,  Ala.  2082 

Pomeroy,  B.  F.,  Meriden,  Ct  1057 

Pomeroy,  C.  S.,  Cleveland,  O.  3111 

Pool,  Frank  J. ,  New  York  13 1 7 

Pool,  Harwood  R.,  New  York  161 1 

Pool,  S.  E.,  West  Newton,  Pa.  2313 

Pool,  S.  H.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  54 

Pope,  Albert  A.,  Boston,  Mass.  154 

Pope,  Edward  W.,  Boston,  Mass.  260 

Pope,  George,  Boston,  Mass.  454 

Pope,  Louis  A.,  Warren,  R.  I.  498 


7S6 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Porter  &  Baker,  Bay  City,  Mich.  1093 

Porter,  E.  R.,  DeeiiQeld,  Mast.  3360 

Porter,  John  A.,  Washington,  D.  C.  1200 
Porter,  J.  Madison,  Hackettstown,  N.  J.  1267 

--Porter,  Luther  H.,  East  Orange,  N.  J.  1493 

Post  Library^  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.  2207 

Post,  D.  J.,  Hartford,  Cl  796 

Potter,  Charles  H.,  Cleveland,  O.  423 

Potter,  Howard  W.,  Reading,  Pa.  109 

Potter,  Samuel,  Callan,  Ire.  3197 

Pound,  Robinson,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  901 

Powell,  Abr.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  2817 

Powell,  Joe,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1518 

Power,  Chas.,  New  York  2407 

Powers,  H.  D.,  Tomah,  Wis.  28<^ 

Pratt,  Arthur  M.,  Chelsea,  Mass.  1152 

Pratt,  Charies  E.,  Boston,  Mass.  311 

Pratt,  Ed.,  Rockville,  Ct.  1962 
Pratt,  F.  Alcott,  Concord,  Mass.      329,  1299 

Pray,  Chas.  F.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1718 

Pray,  William  E.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  3327 

Pray,  W.  P.,  Bristol,  Pa.  49 

Pray,  W.  S.,  Simcoe,  Ont.  1277 

PreN*  HoHU,  Ptmland,  Me.  2279 

Preece,  A.  E.,  Christchurch,  N.  Z.  3220 

Preston,  Frank,  .Portsmouth,  N.  H.  426 

Price,  C.  A.,  Jamestown,  N.  Y.  3159 

Price,  Ed.  A.,  Huntington,  Ind.  2921 

Prince,  A.  K.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  2699 

Prince,  John  S.,  New  York  1244 

Pritchard,  W.  J.,  Elgin,  111.  1483 
Probst  &  Fisbeck,  Teire  Haute,  Ind.  2231-33 

Probst,  J.  F.,  Terre  Haute,  Ind.  1709 

Procter,  T.  R.,  Utica,  N.  Y.  2x04 

Pravidene*  Bi.  Cluh^  Providence,  R.  I.  2789 
Psi  U^iloH  Library^  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.      19 

PtMk  Library^  Bridgeport,  Ct     3150,  3151 

Pugh,  jr..  J.  D..  New  Yoris  1590 
Pundersoo,  Samuel  F.,  New  Haven,  Ct  533 

Purington,  A.  J.,  Boston,  Mass.  2176 

Putnam,  Kingman,  New  York  2487 

Putnam,  L.  R.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3x89 

Putnam,  S.  G.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  2693 

Putnam,  T.  J.,  Wa.shington,  D.  C.  878 

Pyle,  Geo.  C,  Dayton,  O.  1342 

Ragan,  H.  H.,  Syracuse.  N.  Y.  2755 

Rahter,  Chas.  E.,  Lancaster,  Pa.  1431 

Rail,  J.  F..  Iowa  Falls,  la.  3353 

Ranoge,  Chas.  W.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  2068 

Ramsay,  John,  Fife,  Scat.  30x7 

Ramsey,  Wm.  Sidney,  Danville,  Pa.  1448 

Randall,  Howard  E.,  MUlersville,  Pa.  1198 

Randall,  W.  W«st,  Philadelphia^  Pa.  491 


Rathbone,  Wm.  L.,  Randolph,  N.  Y.  430 

Ray.  Frank  S.,  Battle  Creek,  Mich.  2601 

Raymond,  Samuel  A.,  Cleveland,  O.  vflk 

Rayl  &  Co.,  T.  B.,  Detroit,  .Mich.  143 

Raven,  H.  S.,  New  York  2495 

Read,  Frank,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  238^ 

Read,  Geo.  T.,  Belfast,  Me.  761 

Read,  John  G.,  Detroit,  Mich.  667 

Redman,  W.  F.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2320 

Reed,  Charies,  Ansonia,  Ct  883 

Reed,  jr.,  C.  C,  New  York  1380 

Reed,  Isaac  D.,  Newton,  N.  J.  1921 

Reese,  James  S.,  Baltimore,  Md.  151 

Reeser,  Wm.,  St.  Thomas,  OtU,  1829- 

Reeve,  A.  B.,  Princeton,  III.  3003 

Reeve,  Sidney  A.,  Dayton,  O.  SJ 

Reid,  C.  v.,  Qarion,  Pa.  371 

Reid,  F.  F.,  Brattleboro,  Vt  155^ 

Reifold,  Louis,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2304 

Reimbold,  E.  H.,  St  Paul,  Mien.  223^ 

Reist,  H.  G.,  Florin,  Pa.  237a 

Remington,  W.  D.,  Springfield,  Maasw  1871 

Rennie,  Will  H.,  Truro,  N.  S.  1039 

Renninger,  John  S.,  Marshall,  Minn.  3J0S 

Retallack,  S.  G.,  Belleville,  Ont.  564 

Rtvtre  HoMU,  Springfield,  111.  ^344 

Reynolds,  F.  W.,  Mt  Pleasant,  Pa.  3856 

Reynolds,  jr.,  H.  R.,  London,  Eng.  135^ 

Reynolds,  Joshua,  Stockport,  N.  Y.  s» 

Reynolds,  (Mrs.).}.,  Stockport,  N.  Y.  K44J 

Reynolds,  R.  B.,  Stockport,  N,  Y.  $1 
Rheubottom,  jr.,  J.  R.,Weedsport,  N.Y.  1869 

Ribble,  Geoige  W.,  Hanisonbuxg,  Ya.  736 

)lioe.  A.,  Columbus,  Ind.  212$ 

Rice,  Albert  D.,  Boston,  Man.  504 

Rice,  Arthur  W.,  Millbury,  Mass.  1230 

Rice,  Dan.,  Girard,  Pa.  3067 

Rice,  H.  B.,  Cheyenne,  Wy.  33$} 

Rice,  Lewis  C,  Denver,  CbL  626 

Rice,  Reuben,  Meriden,  Ct  2795 

Rich,  A.  C,  Saratoga  Springs,  N.  Y.  118 

Richards,  Charles  M.,  New  Yotit  2185 

Richards,  Frank  B.,  Chicago,  lU.  1348 
Richards,  Geo.  O.,  E.  Rochester,  N.  H.  3008 

Richards,  H.  E.,  Toledo,  O.  3228 

Richardson,  A.  C,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  2781 

Richardson,  A.  J.,  St  Geoi;ge's,  Btr.  2499 

Richardson,  Harry,  Westfield,  N.  J.  4^3 

Richardson,  W.  H.,  Norristown,  Pa.  ssS3 

Richardson,  T.  J.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  919 

Riddle,  Robert  M.,  Altoona,  Pa.  3234 

Rideout,  E.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  jo7» 

Ridley,  Henry  £.,  Fairfieki,  OmL  tjtf 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


757 


Riggs,  R.,  Suffern,  N.  Y.  1837 

RHey,  Alfred  E.,  Goulburn,  N.  S.  iV.  2636 

Ringer,  Fred.  C,  New  York  68 

Ripley,  Edwin,  Sherman,  N.  Y.  1496 

Ripley,  F.  E.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1033 

Roache,  A.  L.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2119 

Robbins,  Bert.  C,  Auburn,  Ind.  2432 

Robbins,  J.  M.,  Lawrence,  Kan.  1614 

Roberts,  C.  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  140 

Roberts,  £.  M.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3186 

Roberts,  E.  T.,  Titusville,  Pa.  1540 

Roberts,  H.  L.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  344 

Roberts,  J.  E.,  Wobum,  Mass.  1631 

Roberts,  James  W.,  Harrisburg,  Pa.  2008 

Roberts,  Lyman  S.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.  2419 

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,  5<rtf/.  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  Shiel48,  Bng.  865 
Rockwen,  C  J.,  East  Windsor  Hill,  Ct.  3283 

Rockwell,  G.  F.,  Stamford,  Ct.  1735 

JtaekweU  f/tnae.  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,  CleTeland,  O.,  2652 

Rogers,  A.  W.,  Columbia,  JPa.  1695 

Rogers,  H.  Taylor,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  304 

Rogers,  John  S.,  St.  Louts,  Mo.  729 

Rogers,  John  Z.,  Lowell,  Mass.  17 14 

Rogers,  S.  Edgcumbe,  London,  Eng^.  3135 

Rogers,  S.  M.,  Ottawa,  Oni.  1963 

Rogers,  W.,  New  York  157 

Rolfe,  C.  J.,  Cambridge,  Mass.  1291 

Romaine,  Girard,  New  York  2404 

Roorbach,  A.  S.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  401 

Root,  Fred  P.,  Clereland,  O.  1662 

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,  0.  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,  Edward,  London,  Eng.  1984 

Rouse,  C.  A.,  Green vUle,  Pa.  1584 
Rouse  &  Son,  Geo.  W.,  Peoria,  111.  2526, 2527 

Rouse,  H.  G.,  Peoria,  III.  314 

Rowland,  Howard  J.,  Rome,  N.  Y.  2504 

Rowland,  John,  Dublin, /rv.  3 115 

Rowland,  T.  W.,  Chicago,  111.  1078 

Roy,  F.  Austin,  New  York  327 

Roy,  J.  B.,  New  York  340s 

Ruck,  Robert,  Cleveland,  O.  2015 

Rudd,  W.  C,  Ocveland,  O.  2830 
Ruddle,  Richard  S.,  Mauch  Chunk,  Pa.  2704 

Rudy,  H.  S.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2327 
Rudy,  Martin,  Lancaster,  Pa.         1173,  1917 

Rugg,  Jas.  F.,  West  Sydney,  A^.  S.  W.  2885 

Ruggles,  Edwin  D.,  Westfield,  N.  J.  1134 
Rumney,  A.  W.,  Cambridge,  Eng.  2561,  3235 

Rumsey,  C.  S.,  St.  Mary's,  Oni.  ijzo 

Runyon,  D.  M.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  1158 

Runyon,  J.  F.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  77 

Ruoff,  George  F.,  Washington,  D.  C.  2x11 

Rushworth,  O.  H.,  Frizinghall,  Eng.  3116 

Russell,  E.  L.,  Blossburg,  Pa.  3266 

Russell,  Howard  H.,  Oberiin,  O.  2973 

Russell,  Talcott  H.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  859 

Russum,  T.  B.,  Elizabeth,  N.  J.  2697 

Rust,  T.  S.,  Meriden,  Ct.  353 

Rutland  Bicycte  Clnb,  Rutland,  Vt.  2 160 

Ryder,  E.  J.,  Waynesboro,  Pa.  1698 

Ryle,  Reuben,  Paterson,  N.  J.  428 

Ryrie,  Harry,  Toronto,  OtU.  1270 

Sackett,  Henry  W.,  New  York  2469 

Sadlier,  C.  W.,  Waldcn,  N.  Y.  235S 

Saffer,  G.  C. ,  New  York  1381 

Sagendorf,  H.  W.,  Hoboken,  N.  J.  1769 

St.  Cloud  Hotel,  Canton,  O.  1931 

St.  Cloud  f/otel,  Washington,  N.  J.  12&8 

St.  Elmo  Hotel,  Punxsutawney,  Pa.  1897 

St.  Goorgt^s  Hotel,  St.  Ge«rge*8,  Btr.  623 

St.  Janus  Hotel,  Qawf,'^.  2030 

Saker,  S.,  Eastbourne,  Eng.  2586 

Salem  Bicycle  Club,  Salem,  Mass.  183 

Salsbury,  Frank,  London,  Eng.  2889 

Salsbury,  J.  E.,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  847 

Salter,  Wesley  B.,  New  York  434 

Sanders,  W.  H.,  Columbus,  Ind.  2122 

Sanders,  W.  H..  Indianapolis,  Ind.  23d6 


75« 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


SandeiMn,  Jr.,  Gea,  Scnmtoa,  Pa.  3191 

Saodereon,  S.  F.,  Rochester,  N.  U.  9319 

Sanford,  Ben.  G.,  New  York  21a 

Saniord,  Pardon  B.,  Greenville,  S.  C.  ajo 

Sansoro,  Frandi  J.,  Portsmouth,  Eng.  2^7 

Saiigeant,  S.  H.,  Newark,  N.  J.  746 

Sargent,  F.  L.,  Cincinnati,  O.  1937 

Saigent;  John  R.  W.,  Chicago,  lU.  779 

Saunders,  W.  E.,  London,  Om£.  1693 

Savell,  J.  E.,  Roxbury,  Mass.  3010 

Sawtell,  Everett  E.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3203 

Sawyer,  E.  L.,  Faribault,  Minii.  295a 

Sawyer,  Jos.  H.,  Easthampton,  Mass.  3853 

Sawyer,  Will.  T.,  Akron,  O.  X085 

Saxe,  John  W.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  1097 

Sazman,  S.  A.,  Allegheny  City,  Pa.  598 

Sazton,  Will.  G.,  Canton,  O.  320a 

Sayles,  Wm.  H.,  Coming,  N.  Y.  692 

Scates,  John  R.,  Paducah,  Ky.  3288 

Scearce,  Frank  P.,  Lexington,  Ky.  905 

Scbaeffer,  T.  A.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  458 

Schaulelberger,  Curt  £.,  Fostoria,  O.  502 

Schauher,  Joe,  Negaunee,  Mich.  3366 

Scherer,  C.  J.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  1654 

Schieser,  jr.,  G.,  Bristol,  Pa.  1838 

Schlegel,  Adolfo,  Milan,  //o^  3308 

Schmitt,  N.  B.,  Woodstock,  Va.  3268 

Schnauber,  F.  W.,  London,  Emg".  3oo6 
Schneider,  Louis  H., Washington,  D.  C.  ziis 

Schofield,  James  S.,  Penfield,  Pa.  3374 

Schooley,  Frank,  Indianola,  la.  3165 

Schoonraaker,  H.  D.,  New  York  1232 

Schroeter,  H.  M.,  Watertown,  Wis.  3654 

Schumacher  ft  Co.,  A.,  Baltimore,  Md.  1691 
SckityUrvilU  Hffuse,  Schuylerville,  N.Y.  1878 

Schwalbach,  Charies,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  944 
Scott,  Austin  W.,  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.  3301 

Scott,  C.  W.,  PortUnd,  Or.  1667 

Scott,  Julius,  Hawley,  Pa.  2076 

Scott,  Jonathan  F.,  New  Brunswick,  580 

Scott,  Truman  H.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  1797 

Scott,  W.  E.,  Lockport,  N.  Y.  x8i8 

Scoville,  W.  L..  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2236 

Seranton  Bicycle  Cbtb^  Scianton,  Pa.  2191 
Scribner,  Wm.  C,  Washington,  D.C.  630-635 

Scrimgeour,  C.  M.,  Galveston,  Tex.  2756 

Scroggs,  C.  J.,  Bucyrus,  O.  1095 

Scudder,  Townsend,  Glen  Head,  L.  I.  2801 

Seabrook,  Wm.  L.,  Westminster,  Md.  1256 

Searie,  F.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1065 

Sean,  Proctor  E.,  Orrville,  O.  329s 

Beaver,  James  H.,  Sheldon,  111.  1 549 

Seavcr,  Nate  6.,  Newaik,  N.  J.  89s 


Scccombe,  S.  H.,  Santee  Agency,  Neb.  709 

Seely,  L.  W.,  Washington,  D.  C  1543 

Segur,  W.  R,  Andover,  Mass.  s^S 

Seibert,  E.  S.,  Brocddyn,  N.  Y.  3336 

Seigle,  T.  B.,  Charlotte,  N.  C.  0257 

Seiler,  A.  P.,  Mansfield,  O.  1681 

Selden,  R.  C,  Titusville,  Pa.  xjtys 

Selvey,  W.  H.,  West  Springfield,  Mass^  X005 

Serrell,  Harold,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  177 

Service  &  Fitton,  Auckland,  N.  Z.  1889 

Shafer,  Harris  T.,  Chicago,  111.  601 

Shaffer,  A.  N.,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.  19$! 

Sha£Eer,  jr.,  F.  L.,  Baltimore,  Md.  615 

Shakespeare,  Wm.,  Waltham,  Mass.  61  s 

Shannon,  R.  T.,  Pittsbuig,  Pa.  3841 

Shannon,  W.  J.,  Cambridgeport,  Mass.  63* 

Share,  W.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1673 

Sharp,  Arthur  D.,  Amherst,  N.  S.  114& 

Sharp,  Edward  F.,  Chicago.  111.  780 

Sharpe,  J.  Henry,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3147 

Sharpe,  jr.,  T.  H.,  Helena,  Mont.  3944 

Shaw,  Edgar  C,  Qearfield,  Pa.  3390 

Shepard,  C.  H.,  Onmge,  Maaa.  3773 

Shepard,  Fred.  J.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  860 
Shepard,  Geo.  G.,  Niagara  Falls,  N.  Y.  3600 

Sherburne,  F.  W.,  Barre,  Vt  3133 

Skermtm  Home^  Jamestown,  N.  Y.  3333 
Sherman,  6eo.  C, Watertown,  N.  V.  ^3-837 

Sheiriff,  Edgar  J.,  Mortlake,  Em£.  198s 

ShilUber,  C.  F.,  Mttle  Rock,  Aik.  334 

Shimmin,  G.  H.,  Ballarat,  VkL  3044 

Shimmin,  H.  P.,  Ballarat,  Vict.  3043 

Shipton,  Ernest  R.,  Laodon,  Emg.  1357 
Shirley,  P.  Howard,  MarUehead,  Mav.  laoS 

Shoemaker,  Geoise  A.,  Bristol,  Fa.  1785 

Sholes,  Fred  T. ,  Qeveland,  O.  x  n^ 

Shriver,  Edwaid  J.,  New  Yoik  49S 

Shrom,  C.  B.,  Greenville,  Pa.  2585 

Sibbakl,  E.  W.,  Belleville,  Om.  988 

Sibell,  H.  Gardner,  BxtMklyn,  N.  Y.  «a8 

Sieweke,  L.  W.,  Ashland,  Ky.  3187 

Sikes,  Leroy  H.,  Suffield,  Ct.  3152 
Silkworth,W.  W.,  E.  Long  Brandi.N.  J.  139$ 

Simmons,  W.  H.,  Sandhurst,  yicL  3054 

Simons,  John  F.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  407 

Simpers,  Harry  H. ,  North  East,  Md.  415 

Simpson,  H.  L.,  Passaic,  N.  J.  774 

Simpson,  H.  P.,  Seranton,  Pa.  3197 

Sinclair,  Eugene,  Nashville,  Tenn.  3318 

Sinclair,  James  A.,  Liverpool,  Emf,  3606 

Sinclair,  Percy  L.,  Sayre,  Pa.  3543 

Sindaire,  jr.,  H.  P.,  Coming,  N.  Y.  O^ 

Sisley,  Clias.  P.,  Cationl  Hill,  Emg.  (3951) 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


759 


Sixer,  Henry  D.,  Qeveland,  O.  38x9 

Skinner,  Elmer,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  37 

SUnner,  R.  H.,  Hamilton,  Oni.  1874 

Slade,  John  A.,  Columbia,  Pa.  1261 

Slanter,  F.  S.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  927 

Slater,  F.,  New  Britain,  Ct.  1207 

Slater,  Sam  A.,  Genoa,  111.  686 

Slegel,  Samuel  E.,  Reading,  Pa.  973 

Sleight,  E.  H.,  Moline,  III.  2560 

Slocum,  Chas.  E.,  Defiance,  O.  1496 

Slocum,  Winfield  S.,  Boston,  Mass.  1488 

Slocumb,  Jesse  E.,  Macon,  Ga,  3454 

Sloper,  F.  G.,  Sydney,  N.  S.  fV.  2213 

Slosson,  T.  M.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  28 19 

Small,  Chas.  H.,  Harrisburg,  Pa.  114 

Smillie,  G.  ClifiFord,  Newark,  N.  J.  2922 

Smith,  A.  Grant,  Amity,  Or.  1151 

Smith,  A.  P.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2724 

Smith,  C.  A.,  La  Crosse,  Wis.  1946 

Smith,  C.  F.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  1636 

Smith,  C.  H.,  Detroit,  Mich.  672 

Smith,  C  Shillard,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  342 

Smith,  C  T.,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  1440 

Smith,  D.  Sherman,  Lancaster,  Pa.  3317 
Smith,  Ernest  B.,  East  Brimfield,  Mass.  3231 

Smith,  Edward  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2184 

Smith,  E.  D.,  Allegheny  City,  Pa.  290 

Smith,  Eugene  L.,  Springfield,  Mass.  638 

Smith,  Eugene  M.,  Jeraey  City,  N.  J.  1875 

Smith,  Frank  J.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  949 

Smith,  Frank  W.,  Beech  Giff,  Pa.  1979 

Smith,  Gordon  F.,  New  York  1443 

Smith,  George  L.,  Little  Falls,  N.  Y.  3630 

Smith,  Howard  A.,  Newark,  N.  J.  391 

Smith,  H.  B.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1509 

Smith,  Horace  E.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  571 

Smith,  H.  Kessler,  Cindnnati,  O.  2991 

Smith,  Harry  S.,  Martinsburg,  W.  Va.  3280 

Smith,  J.  Chas.  V.,  Washington,  D.  C.  2685 

Smith,  J.  Edwards,  Qeveland,  O.  1918 

Smith,  J.  E.,  St.  I^ouis,  Mo.  3030 

Smith,  J.  W.,  Orange,  N.  J.  a  106 

Smith,  L.  Logan,  Germantown,  Pa.  57a 

Smith,  Robert  A.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  3787 

Smith,  Reuben  G.,  Ardmore,  Pa.  368 

Smith,  Sigma,  London,  Em^.  3604 

Smith,  Thompson,  Cheboygan,  Mich.  3001 

Smith,  T.  C,  New  York  1386 

Smith,  W.  E.,  Lynn,  Mass.  193 
Smith,  Willard  P.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  92,  93 
Smith  Machine  Co.,  The  H.  B.,  mfrs,  of 

[Star  bicycle,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1508 

Snare,  Frederick,  Huntington,  Pa.  115 


Snedecker>  C.  D.,  New  Brunswick,  N.J.  343 

Snow,  Charles  F.,  Worcester,  Mass.  877 

Snow,  H.,  Oamaru,  ^^.  Z.  1701 

Snow,  J.  W.,  Orange,  N.  J.  1575 

Snyder,  A.  A.,  Caldwell,  N.  J.  1767 

Snyder,  A.  M.,  Baltimore,  Md.  561 

Snyder,  J.  W.,  Belleville,  Ont.  569 

Solyom,  Charles  J.,  New  York  1461 

Solyom,  Louis  C,  Washington,  D.  C.  879 

Somers,  Thos.  B.,  Millville,  N.  J.  110$ 

Soper,  B.  W.,  High  Wycombe,  Eng,  3939 

Sonano,  }r.,  J.  M.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  95a 

Soule,  Geoige  T.,  New  Milford,  Ct.  A44 

Sourbeer,  Chas.,  Columbia,  Pa.  1647 

Southard,  Wm.  B.,  Newark,  N.  J.  896 
Southern  Cycler^  The^  Memphis,  Tenn.  3388 
South  worth,  George  C.  S.,  Gambier,  O.  1384 

Spalding,  George  M.,  Wellsboro,  Pa.  3416 

Sparling,  Fred  J., Toronto,  Oni.  1374 

Sparrow,  John  P.,  Portland,  Me.  450 

Spaulding,  W.  D.,  Jackson,  Mich.  3914 

Spead,  J.  A.,  So.  Newmarket,  N.  H.  3070 

Spenceley,  J.  Winfred,  Boston,  Mass.  3703 

Spencer,  LA.,  Scranton,  Pia.  74 

Spencer,  J.  B.,  Hartford,  Ct.  1770 

Spencer,  Lee,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  368 

Spillane,  P.  H.,  Cohoes,  N.  Y.  3821 

Spindler,  Frank  L.,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  2066 

Spindler,  Frank  N.,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  1793 

Spinning,  L.  N.,  Summit,  N.  J.  3548 

Spohn,  Frank  M.,  Ardmore,  Pa.  788 

Spooner,  A.  L.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1030 

Spooner,  C.  W.,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  98 

Spooner,  D.  M.,  Lawrence,  Mass.  718 

Spooner,  H.,  London,  Eng.  3933 

Spoitsylvaniet  Hotely  Uniontown,  Pa.  1807 

Spranger,  jr.,  F.  X.,  Detroit,  Mich.  3703 

Sprigg,  W.,  Edgar,  Baltimore,  Md.  361 

SfrifgJUld  BkycU  CM,  Mass.  348 

Sprinkel,  C.  C,  Harrisonburg,  Va.  727 

Spurgeon,  Wm.,  Baltimore,  Md.  11 19 

Spurrier,  W.  J.,  Birmingham,  Eng.  3172 

Squier,  Burt  O.,  Bellville,  O.  3035 

Staates.  C.  F.,  Washington,  N.  J.  1268 

Stadelman,  S.  F.,  Ardmore,  Pa.  367 

Stadelman,  W.  A.,  Ardmore,  Pa.  131 

Stafford  &  Co.,  BuflFalo,  N.  Y.  2365 

Stahl,  Henry  A.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  403 

Stairs,  J.  Wiseman,  Halifax,  H.  S.  656 

Staley,  E.  T.,  Portland,  Or.  3099 

Staley,  Paul  A.,  Springfield,  O.  1908 

Stan,  Sylvanus,  Lancaster,  Pa.  1363 

Stamford  Depot  Rexttutmnt,  Ct.  1087 


760 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Stamfrrd  Home,  SUmford,  Ct.  172a 

Stamm,  Alex.  Canon,  Hanritbuiig,  Pa.  1089 

Sundish,  Chas.  D.,  Detrmt,  Mich.  215 

Stanton,  A.  N.,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  <joi 

SUutioH  Houst,  Cazenovia,  N.  Y.  851 

SUiKwix  HaU,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  2634 

Suples,  S.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  466 

'  Stark,  Jas.  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  2448 

Suit,  John  T.,  Coldwater,  Mich.  3177 

Starr,  R.  West,  Wichita  Falls,  Tex.  906 

Steams,  Charles  W.,  Elgin,  111.  1484 

Stebbins,W.  K.,  Worcester,  Mass.  2742 

Stedman,  Frank  B.,  Cleveland,  O.  1684 

Steel,  R.  G.,  St  Johns,  Mich.  2603 

Steele,  Allen  D.,  Elinira,  N.  Y.  2705 

Steele,  T.  Sedgwick,  Hartford,  Ct  791 

Stephens,  E.  V.,  Sandhurst,  Vict.  3259 

Stephens,  Frank  L.,  Riverton,  Ct  1554 

Stephenson,  A.  H.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  2537 

Stephenson,  Fred  J.,  Belfast,  Me.  840 

Stephenson,  John  V.,  Greensbuig,  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.  2143 

Stevens,  David  M.,  Chicago,  111.  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.,  Pittsiield,  Mass.  3x10 

Stevenson,  John  M.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  1409 

Steves,  R.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1760 

Stewart,  Chas.  E.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  2609 

Stewart,  R.  L.,  Rosdle,  N.  J.  2987 

Stickney,  E.  R.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3204 

Stiles,  P.  H.,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  2692 

Stiles,  Wm.  H.,  Henderson,  Ky.  2326 

Stiroson,  W.  F.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  677 

Stine,  W.  C,  Sycamore,  III.  2916 

Stippick,  H.  B.,' Aurora,  111.  1949 

Stites,  W.  Scott,  Wyoming,  Pa.  2976 
Stoddard,  S.  R.,  Glens  Falls.  N.  Y.  2850, 2851 
Stokes,  F.  C,  Mooreslown,  N.  J.  61,  62 
Stone,  C.  E.,  St  Louis,  Mo.  (d.  Sept.,*85)  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.,  Smithville,  N.  J.  1514 
Story.  Will.  J.,  Goldendale,  Wash.  Ter.  2331 

Stover,  H.  E.,  Altoona,. Pa.  3237 

Suait,  H.  N.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  3131 


Stran,  Chas.  S.,  Baltimore,  McL  72 

Strong,  A.  Wanen,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  946 

Strong,  E.  L.,  Cleveland,  O.  1994 

Stubblefield,  Smith,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark.  2727 

Stults,  H.  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  so«9 

Sturdevant,  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  132 

Stunney,  Henry,  Coventry,  Eng,  870 

Sturtevant,  A.  F.,  Concord,  Mass.  3317 

Sturtevant,  James,  Madison,  N.  Y.  121c 

Styles,  Fred  W.,  New  York  1306 

Sullivan,  R.  E.,  Harrisonburg,  Va.  728 

Sumner  Hpiue,  Akron,  O.  1786 

Surprise,  W.  L.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  1543 

Surrey  Machinisu  Co.,  London,  J^ajf.  3124 

Sutton,  E.  S.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2857 

Swain,  Fremont,  Cambridge,  Masa»  2589 

Swain,  S.  H.,  London,  Eng,  2661 

Swaine,  Seorim,  Rochester,  N.  H.  2367 

Swallow,  Francis  O.,  Westboro,  Maaa.  603 

Swan,  Cameron,  Bromley,  Eng".  2565 

Swarthout,  Fred,  Aurora,  III.  1643 
Sweeley,  Frank  L.,  Adel,  la.            778, 1091 

Sweet,  F.  Grant,  Carpenters,  Pa.  2003 

Swectser,  M.  F.,  Boston,  Mass.  937 

Swift,  Samuel,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  2893 

Swinden,  S.,  Scarborough,  Emg.  2936 

Sylvester,  (Miss)  Annie,  Chicago,  111.  1466 

Symonds,  Frank  P.,  Salem,  Mass.  182 

Tabor,  £.  S.,  SchuylerviUe,  N.  Y.  7* 

Talbot,  J.  D.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  891 

Tate,  Henry,  Verplank's  Pt,  N.  Y.  547 

Tatnall,  Richard  P.,  Wilmington,  Dd.  1308 

Taylor,  Edgar  A.,  Buffak),  N.  Y.  asot 

Taylor,  Edie,  Preston,  Minn.  aiff 

Taylor,  E.  Howard,  New  Britain,  Ct  laof 

Taylor,  G.  Burton,  Newark,  N.  J.  749 

Taylor,  Geo.  J.,  Salt  Lake  Gty,  Utah  1399 

Taylor,  H.  L.,  Augusta,  Ky.  ii6s 

Taylor  Home,  Augusta,  Ky.  1x63 

Taylor,  Joseph  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  30 

Taylor,  Lewis  D.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  324 

Taylor,  Robt.  £.,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.  617 

Taylor,  Theodore  E.,  Norristown,  Pa.  2618 

Taylor,  Will  G.,  Birmingham,  Ct  642 

Teames,  H.  H.,  Thomaston,  Ct  2783 

Tean,  Erwin,  Walden,  N.  Y.  2S7i 

Teetzel,  J.  J.,  St.  Thomas,  Omi.  x8s4 

Tegetmeier,  E.,  London,  Eng.  ifQ 

Temple,  Herbert,  Halifax,  N.  S.  ja« 

Tenlon,  Arthur  M.,  Boston,  Mass.  1744 

Terry,  A.  B.,  New  York  21 

Terry,  H.  Warren,  New  Castle,  Pa.  144s 

Terry,  Stephen,  Hartford,  Ct  ai 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS, 


761 


rhalimer,  A.  G.,  Green-rille,  FSu  1588 

Thayer,  Francis,  New  York  413 

Thayer,  Glenroy  A.,  Amberst,  Mass*  azsr 

Thayer,  Gea  B.,  Venum  Depot,  Cl  193 

Thayer,  Herbert  A.,  So.  Boston,  Man.  864 

Thayer,  John  M.,  Norwich,  Ct  3joo 

Thayer,  WiUaid  A.,  Amherst,  Mass.  3186 

Theberath,  T.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J.        .  3505 

T'hieme,  T.  F.,  Fort  Wayne,  IncL  1756 

Thomas,  Aaron  S.,  New  York  1414 

Thomas,  Elmer  I.,  Lewiston,  Me.  807 

Thomas,  Fred.  C,  New  York  133* 

Thomas,  P.  S.,  Harrisonbui^,  Va.  3173 

Thomas,  W.,  Cazenom.  N.  Y.  848 

Thomas,  Wm.  A.,  Conway,  Maaa.  2303 

Thomas,  W.  £.  P.,  Sandhurst,  Vkt,  3763 

Thomas,  jr.,  Wm.  H.,  Baltimore,  Md.  556 

Thomas,  Wm.  H.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  919 

Thompson,  Alfred  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  $5 

Thompson,  A.  E.,  Rockford,  III.  539 

Thompson,  Arthur  L.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1397 

Thompson,  James,  Baltimore,  Md.  165 

Thompson,  J.  F.,  New  York  2276 

Thompson,  John  M.,  Watkins,  N.  Y.  J587 

Thompson,  Robt.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  1897 

Thompson,  R.  A.,  Ballarat,  Vkt.  3041 

Thompson,  W.  B.,  Bound  Brook,  N.  J.  723 

Thorbum,  Alban,  Uddevalh^  Swetkm  1637 

Thorn,  John  T.,  Bristol,  Pa.  1895 

Thome,  Wm.  C,  Chicago,  lU.  3909 

Thowe,  Robert,  Hartloid,  Ct.  1406 

Thrasher,  J.  M.,  Elgin,  lU.  1485 

Thurber,  Harry  J.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1597 

Thurston,  A.  £.,  N.  Adelaide,  S.  AMstr.  3133 

Tibbs,  Horace  S.,  Montreal,  Que,  1143 
Ticknor  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.          1649-1651 

Ti£Eany,  J.  K.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  579 

Ti^ny,  M.  L.,  Bristol,  Ct.  33fo 

Tift  Houu,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3263 

Tillinghast,  L.  M.,  Brattleboro,  Vt  1766 

Tillman,  Chas.  J.,  Baltimore,  Md.  369 

Timberhke  &  Co.,  Maidenhead,  Eng,  3078 

Tisdale,  D.  R.,  Simcoe,  Oni,  1280 

Titchener,  Chas.  E.,  Binghamton,  N.Y.  799 

Titus,  George  F.,  Norwalk,  O.  2749 

Todd,  Fred  J.,  Detroit,  Mich.  666 

Tolles,  E.  N.,  Birmingham,  Ct.  802 

Tomlinson,  J.  H.,  Birmii^ham,  Ct.  803 

Tonkin,  J.  W.,  Sandhurst,  Vkt.  t-jti 
Towns,  Frank  B.,  S.  Hadley  Falls,  Mass.  28 

Townsend,  H.  C,  Wallingford,  Vt.  S934 

Townsend,  Wm.  K.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  1419 

Tracy,  A.  £.,  Chatham,  N.  Y.  3610 


Travers,  L.  C,  So.  Gardner, Blast.  aoo9»  3109 

Trego,  Albert,  Baltimore,  Md  3137 

Tremere,  Francis  H.,  Boston,  Mass.  978 

TrttUon  Hotue^  Trenton,  N.  J.  1963 

Trigswell,  James,  London,  Kng.  -3340 

Trimmer,  Daniel  K.,  York,  Pa.  1444 

Tripp,  &  H.,  Peoria,  111.  3538 

Troth,  Henry,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  593 

Trotter,  Frederidc,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  574 

Troup,  Montague  L.,  London,  Et^p.  3583 
Trowbridge,  John  M.,  New  Haven,  Ct.  3837 

Truslow,  John  K.,  Amherst,  Mass.  2363 

Tryon,  James  M.,  Toledo,  O.  3130 

Tubby,  C.  A.,  Toronto,  Oni.  1373 
Tucker,  George,  Smiths,  Btr.         1080,  3498^ 

Tucker,  H.  M.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  siia 

Tukesbury,  Charles  C,  Portland,  Me.  1636 

Tulane,  V.  B.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  sioi 

Tullis,  W!  J.,  Montgomery,  Ala.  863 

Turner,  W.  J.,  Hamilton,  Oni.  3167 

Turpin,  W.  A.,  Rochester,  N.  Y.  i8a6 

Tuttle,  Chas.  A.,  Holyoke,  Mass.  3067 

Tttttle,  F.  G.,  Rutland,  Vt.  3172 

Tuttle,  Geo.  J.,  Aurora,  111.  1644 

Tyler,  Morris  F.,  New  Haven,  Ct  2408 

Tyler,  N.  P.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J.  331 

Tyson,  Robert,  Toronto,  Oni.  3073 

Tytus,  John  B.,  Middletown,  O.  1237 

Ulbrich  &  Kingsley,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  3368 

Uniitd  States  H«M^  Easton,  Pa.  ia66 

Uniitd  StaU$  Hotel,  Newburgh,  N.  Y.  1867 

Unseld,  B.  C,  New  York  71s 

Updegraff,  George,  Hagerstown,  Md.  1253 

Upham,  Chas.  J.,  Dorchester,  Mass.  1856 

Valentine,  John,  Chicago,  111.  1304 

Valentine,  Sterling  G.,  Lebanon,  Pa.  616 

Vanaman,  Ellsworth,  Millville,  N.  J.  zio6 

Van  Doom,  J.  W.,  Oevcland,  O.  3249 

Van  Horn,  Lyman,  Chicopee,  Mass.  2456 

Van  Uew,  H.  A.,  New  York  96s 

Van  Nort,  John  J.,  Scranton,  Pa.  35 

Van  Pelt,  J.  C,  Hanisonbuig,  Va.  3174 
Vanschoick.WalterM.,  Shrewsbury,  N.J.  6e8 

Van  Sidclen,  Norton  H.,  Chicago,  IlL  1541 

Van  Tuyl,  F.  R.,  Monmouth,  HI.  460 

Varaey,  G.  G.,  East  Rochester,  N.  H.  2369 

Veeder,  Curtis  H.,  So.  Bethlehem,  Pa.  2330 

Vemieme,  Ifetei,  Boston,  Mass.  2074 

Verhoeff,  Harry,  Louisville,  Ky.  3193 

Verhoeff,  John  M.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1129 

Verhoeff,  (Miss)  Mattie,  Louisville,  Ky.  3194 

Vermilya,  Irvbg,  Tuckahoe,  N.  Y.  1164 

Veysey,  Walter  H.  P.,  New  York  1633 


762 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


yicterm  Ntitl,  Wincbor,  A^.  S.  914 

Vmoent,  Harry  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3971 

VmctniHatuty  Tarrytown,  N.  Y.  aaii 

Vhio,  Monroe  L.,  New  York  409 

VmtoD,  W.,  Sandhum,  Vict,  2764 

Virginia  Haiti,  SUunkon,  Ya.  1371 

Von  Brandis,  G.  A.,  Los  Angeles,  Cal.  1953 
Voorhees,  jr.,  Geo.  £.,  Moiristown,  N.J.  354 
Voorhees,  James  D.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  1798 

ff^arAirwiy^MKiir,  Princeton,  Mass.  915 

Wade,  B.  F.,  Cleveland,  O.  1903 

Wade,  jr.,  J.  H.,  Qeveland,  O.  1346 
Wady,  C  S.,  Fall  River,  Mass.      ^15,  2833 

Wagner,  Chas.  W.,  Ann  Aifoor,  Mich.  326 

Wagner,  H.  A,  Laramie  City,  Wy.  2425 

Wainwright,  L.  M.,  Noblesville,  Ind.  174 
Wakefield,  Frank  A.,  Springfield,  Mass.  3276 

Wakefield,  J.  L.,  Preston,  O.  1932 

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,       2^82,  2792 

Walker,  T.  H.  S.,  Berlin,  Gtr.  786 

Walker,  V.  G.,  Qeveland,  O.  2779 

Walker,  W.  F.,  Brattleboro,  Vt  1570 

Walkley,  A.  B.  A.,  Plantsville,  a.  1524 

WaUac*  H&Htt,  Cheshire,  Cu  2075 

Wallace,  H.  C,  Scranton,  Pa.  2195 

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.  2554 

Ward,  Harry  C,  Middletown,  Ct  1938 

Warder,  Chas.  B.,  Phibdelphia,  Pa.  2328 

Wardwell,  J.  F.,  Sumford,  Ct  1736 

Waring,  £.  J.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  305 

Warner,  D.  D.,  Bloomington,  111.  2475 

Warner,  F.  Howard,  Redditch,  Bng,  939 

Warner,  Russell  D.,  Greenfield,  Mass.  2361 

Warren,  F.  £.,  Portland,  Me.  3844 

Wanen,  Henry  J.,  Stamford,  Ct.  2243 
Warren,  Henry  P.,  Lawrenoeville,  N.J.  2659 

Warren,  H.  W.,  Jamaica  Plain,  Mass.  101 

Warren,  W.  E.,  Astoria,  Or.  1652 

IVarrtn  Grten  Haiti,  Warrenton,  Va.  1346 

fVarrmamdaal  Mtchtmic^  ImtihtU,  VI  3644 

Washbom,  H.,  Solon,  Me.  1831 

H^euhtHgtoH  Haust,  Yoik,  Pa.  3338 

Wassail,  J.  W.,  Chicago,  111.  ,48 

Wasserman,  Ben,  (St.  Louis,  Mo.)  175 

Wassung,  A  B.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1018 


Waasong,  Charles  P.,  Rock  SpriD8s,Wy.  «4i 
Waterbury,  Lyle,  Denver,  Cd.  1398 

Watenoan,  L.  E.,  New  York  ajp 

Watkins,  W.  W.,  Caaenovia,  N.  Y.  854 

Watson,  H.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  ao«8 

Watson,  James,  New  Yorii  549 

Watson,  J.  H.  H.,  Boston,  Maasi  2394 

Watson,  Perry  S.,  New  York  159 

Watt  &  Lanier,  Montgomery,  Ala.  1988 

Watters,  J.  H.,  Cincinnati,. O.  1939 

Watts,  Fnnk  D.,  Scranton,  Pa.  48 

Way,  Robert  F.,  Hartfoid,  Ct  to6a 

Way,  T.  B.,  -^oy,  N.  Y.  .334 

Weaver,  Harry  P.,  Norristown,  Fa.        9555 
Webb,  Arthur  N.,  Salem,  Mass.  359 

Webber,  jr.,  J.  S.,  Gloucester,  Maaa.       s>S 
Webber,  W.  S.,  Casenovia,  N.  Y.  830 

Webster,  A.  F.,  Toronto,  Oid,  1269 

Webster,  a  A.,  Jaduon,  Mich.  3119 

Webster,  J.  W.,  Dublin,  /»».  3098 

Webster,  Ralph  D.,  Scbenevus,  N.  Y.  2639 
Weed,  Edw.  O.,  Cliicago,  111.  s^S 

Weed  S.  M.  Co.,  The,  Hartford,  Ct  8i»83i 
Weekes,  R.  H.,  Detroit,  Mich.  885 

Weeks,  Francis  H.,  New  York  3615 

Weeks,  Jos.  H.,  Norristown,  P2.  ass6 

Weir,  Ross  W.,  New  Yoric  1339 

Welch,  Woodbury,  Yarmouthville,  Me.  269s 
Weller,  John  A.,  St.  Louis,  Mich.  3051 

Welles,  A.  J.,  Hartfoid,  Ct  791 

Wdls,  Channing  M.,  Soothbridge,  Maas.  3347 
Wdls,  F.  E.,  Corpus  Christ!,  Tex.  19SS 

Wefls,  Geo.  A.,  New  York  16x3 

Wells,  Gea  H.,  St  Albans,  Vt.  3091 

Welter,  Frank  T.,  Hobokcn,  N.  J.  3649 
Wendell,  Harmon,  Detroit,  Mich.  670 

Wentworth,  Nathan,  Great  Falls,  N.  H.  3577 
Wesley,  E.  L.,  Chambersbuig,  Pa.  3790 

Weasels,  C.  T.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1533 

Wessels,  E.  T.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1679 

West,  H.  G.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3108 

Wetthar<?  Hotel,  Westboro.  Mass.  3836 

Westervelt,  F.  W.,  Springfield,  Mass.  »oo4 
Weston,  Edwaid  B.,  Highland  Paric,  III  1334 
Weston,  F.  C,  Bangor,  Me.  3348 

Weston,  Frank  W.,  Boston.  Mass.  391-39$ 
H^tsi  S/ruig/MdCMaM.)  Tawm  Library  1737 
Westwood,  l^Ham  H.,  Newaric,  N.  J.  89} 
Wetmore,  John  C,  Elisabeth,  N.  J.  1539 
Wetsel,  C.  J.,  Chicopee,  Mass.  leio 

Wetael,  jr. ,  Wm. ,  Elgm,  111.  1486 

Wharlow,  Henry  T.,  London,  Btig,  3137 
Whatton,  A.  B.  M.,  Cambridge.  £mg.    2862 


THE  THREE  THOUSAND  SUBSCRIBERS. 


1^1 


WbattOB,  J.  S.,  Looden,  Eng.  3106 

WhedoD,  Out.  C,  New  York  as 

Wheeler,  Edw.  S.,  Boston,  Mass.  3741 

Wheeler,  jr.,  J.  R.,  Baltimore,  Md.  57 

Wheder,  Jowph  H.,  Mcdford,  Mass.  3730 

Wheeler,  L.  B.,  LeonardsviUe,  N.  Y.  S656 

"  Whnlmi^t "  Library,  London,  Eng.  1469 

Wherrett,  Chas.,  Hobart,  Tat,  3315 

Wherry,  F.  P.,  SL  Louis,  Mo.  237 

Whiffle,  C  £.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1000 

Whipple,  O.  N.,  Springfield,  Mass.  103a 

Whitaker,  Geo.  £.,  Soroerville,  Mass.  1349 

White,  Arthur  £.,  Westfield,  Mass.  3669 

White,  £.,  Warmambool,  Vict,  2643 

White,  Geo.  R.,  WeUesley  HiUs,  Mass.  468 

White,  Nathan,  Los  Angeles,  Cal.  195a 
White,  Robert  D.,  W.  Springfield,  Mass.  X017 

White,  Stokes  &  Allen,  New  York  1473 

Whitehead,  B.  S.,  Newark,  N.  J.  2457 

Whitehead,  John,  Trenton,  N.  J.  1770 

Whitehead,  Robert  V.,  Trenton,  N.  J.  1771 

Whitehouee,  Henry  W.,  Hartford,  Cl  1148 

Whiteside,  Wm.,  New  York  1315 

Whiting,  Homer  J.,  Worcester,  Mass.  2757 

Whiting,  John  H.,  New  Haven,  Ct  30 

Whiting,  W.  A.,  New  York  146 

Whitman,  Fred  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  56a 

Whitner,  Harry  K.,  Reading,  Pa.  7S1 

Whitney,  jr.,  Eli,  New  Haven,  Ct.  600 

Whitney,  E.  G.,  Boston,  Mass.  310 

Whittemore,  Chas.  £.,  New  York  474 

Whitteroore,  Jaa.  O.,  Fairfield,  Me.  3103 

Whittlesey,  J.  C.»  Rockville,  Ct.  124 

Whysall,  George,  Bearer  Falls,  Pa.  338a 

Wickersham,  J.  £.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  3380 

Wickfaam,  Edd  C,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y.  76 

Wiegel,  Wm.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  9709 

Wiese,  Fred.  G.,  Bordentown,  N.  J.  aa68 

Wieee,  H.  Benson,  Bordentown,  N.  J.  9291 

Wiese,  Louis  W.,  Bordentown,  N.  J.  403 

Wiesenfeld,  Joseph,  Baltimore,  Md.  619 

Wiesinger,  Chas.  G.,  Adrian,  Mich.  698 

Wight,  Fred  G.,  Springfield,  Mass.  524 
Wilcox,  Ed.  H..  Genoa,  111.               198,  685 

Wilcox,  Fred.  A.,  Maiden,  Mass.  arso 

Wilcox,  Julius,  New  York  4a 

Wilder,  A.  D.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  2338 

Wilder,  Edward  P.,  New  York  i4ra 

Wilder,  W.  R.,  Pittsfield,  Masa.  3086 

Wtlhelm,  W.  I.,  Reading,  Pa.  aio 
Wilkins,  jr.,  Bcoj.  F.,  Washington,  D.  C.  47a 

Winrins,  C.  H.,  Manchester,  N.  H.  4" 

Wilkins,  E.  M.,  Springfield,  Mass.  1033 


WOkinsoD  Co.,  The  J.,  Chicago      HH^^l 

Wilkinson,  T.  K.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.  aa9 

Wilkinson,  Will  W.,  Mt.  Vemoo,  O.  1794 

Willard,  W.  C,  Brattleboro,  Yt.  1563 

Waibura,  F.  W.,  Doncaster,  Emg.  3994 

Willever,  J.  C,  Newark,  N.  J.  383 

WUliams,  Chas.  D.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3399 

WiUiama,  jr.,  D.  £.,  Montgomery,  Ala.  784 

Williams,  Edward  H.,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  3953 
Williams,  Edwin  S.,  Minneapolis,  Mum.  3306 

Williams,  F.  J.,  So.  Boston,  Mass.  3596 

Williams,  G.  P.,  Newark,  N.  J.  1571 

WUliams,  Geo.  W.,  Wellsboro,  Pa,  3414 

Williams,  H.,  Level,  O.  389 

Williams,  H.  D.,  Johnstown,  Pa.  533 

Williams,  Henry  W.,  Boston,  Mass.  581 

Williams,  J.  Ellsworth,  Delaware,  O.  1841 

Williams,  Ramon  V.,  New  York  137a 

Williams,  Walter,  Boonville,  Mo.  1634 

Williams,  Wm.  C,  Taunton,  Mass.  3956 

Williams,  Winslow  T.,  Yantic,  Ct  Z170 

Williams,  W.  L.,  Ridgeway,  Pa.  3318 

Wills,  jr.,  Thos.,  Calumet,  Mich.  3976 

Willson,  Chas.  G.,  Reading,  Pa.  975 

Willson,  John  I.,  Winona,  Wis.  3949 

Willson,  T.  £.,  New  York  500 

Wiknarth,  H.  C,  MansfieM,  Masa.  3343 

Wilson,  A.  J.,  London,  Eng.  867 

Wilson,  A.  L.,  Rockland  Lake,  N.  Y.  1337 

Wilson,  Chas.  £.,  Troy,  N.  Y.  3547 

Wilson,  D.  R.,  Sandhurst,  Vict,    .  3056 

Wilson,  E.  A.,  Niles,  O.  857 

Wilson,  Geo.  A.,  Fitchbuig,  Masa.  65 

Wilson,  Geo.  T.,  New  York  1613 

Wilson,  jr.,  James,  Rockville,  Ct.  1960 

Wilson,  J.  £.,  Newburgh,  N.  Y.  1083 
Wilson,  L.  S.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y.        1300, 1595 

Wilson,  Samuel  £.,  Montgomery,  Ala.  aa7o 

WUson,  T.  J.,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark.  a7a8 

Wilson,  W.  W.,  Leytonstone,  Eng.  3337 

Winans,  H.  J.,  Springfield,  Mass.  too6 

Winans,  Wilbur  N.,  Springfield,  Masa.  looa 

Winans,  jr.,  W.  S.,  Katonah,  N.  Y.  141 

Winberg,  J.  C,  Macon,  Ga.  a6as 

Winchell,  M.  R.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  583 

fVimiscr,  Hvlel,  Cearfield,  Pa.  aa83 

Windsor  HoUl,  Kingston,  Oni.  881 

Wittdsor  Hotel,  Montgomery,  Ala.  1988 

Windsor  HoHM,  Howard  Lake,  Mina.  3334 

WinfieM,  H.  W.»  Jersey  aty,  N.  J.  3950 

Winslow,  G.  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1680 

Winter,  Percy,  New  York  ao9a 

Winterle,  CIms.  J.,  SaMtawce,  Md.  960 


764 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Winterrowd,  Ed.  O.,  ShelbyviQe,  Ind.  605 

Wintenteen,  W.  S.,  Bethlehem,  Pa.  144' 

IVimikrop  HtUl,  Meriden,  Ct.  2139 

Wintringham,  C.  V.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  1283 

Wiseman,  A.,  Auckland,  N.  Z.  2S84 

Wistar,  Dillwyn,  Germantown,  Pa.  1046 

Wocher,  Wm.  F.,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2130 

Wombaker,  H.  Z.,  Pipestone,  Minn.  3323 

^MM/^rowr^/.  C/»^,  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.,  Philadelphia,  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.,  Greensbuig,  Ind.  3285 

Woodman,  C.  M.,  Omaha,  Neb.  360 

Woodman,  F.  W.,  Portland,  Me.  481 

Woodruff,  Chas.  B.,  Duluth,  Minn.  135a 

Woodruff,  I.  O.,  New  York  3319 

Woods,  Chas.,  Sandhurst,  Vict,  3048 

Woodside,  W.  M.,  New  York  1243 

Woodward,  E.  W.,  Owosso,  Mich.  301 1 
Woodward,  R.  W.,  Elizabeth,  N.J.  2280, 2344 

Wool  worth,  C.  C,  New  York  186  x 
Woolworth,  jr.,  C.  C,  Brooklyn  224,  1453-56 

Woolworth,  Chas.  M.,  Otturowa,  la.  2081 

Worcesttr  Free  Pubiic  Library ^  Mass.  1209 

Worley,  N.  J.,  Oeveland,  O.  1739 

Worrell,  H.  B.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  105 

Worth,  F.  E.,  Ind^anola,  la.  2961 

Worthington,  Arthur,  Springfield,  O.  1909 

Worthington,  C,  Baltimore,  Md.  3336 

Worthington,  L.  W.,  Winona,  Minn.  1987 


Wotherq>oon,  W.,  Sandhurst,  Vki, 
Wright,  Albert  J.,  Montdair,  N.  J. 
Wright,  C.  F.,  Richmond,  Ind. 
Wright,  Chas.  G.,  Philadelphia,  Fa. 
Wright,  J.  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Wright,  J.  Bidmead,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Wright,  John  H.,  So.  Boston,  Mass. 
Wright,  J.  H.,  Hanover,  N.  H. 
Wright,  Sam.  B.,  Oscaloosa,  la. 
Wright,  T.  Houaid,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Wright,  Wm.  S.,  Bristol,  Pa. 


S05S 

a86o 

3>7« 
i3«« 


1309 
5*9 


Yale  CoUege  Library ^  New  Haven,  Cl  1235 
Yates,  Frank  £.,  Chicago,  ID.  1451 

Yatds,  Walter  F.,  Memphis,  Tenn.  2058 

Yerkes,  Chas.  E.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  457 

Yesbera,  G.  H.,  Auburn,  Ind.  9430 

Yingling,  H.,  Gettysbutg,  Pa.  1354 

Vopp,  James  L.,  Wilmington,  N.  C.  3391 
Young  Men*s  Library ^  Norwalk,  O.  2750 
K  M.C.A.  Library,  Nashville,  Tenn.  3943 
Young,  Arthur,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  365 

Young,  C.  Dwight,  Mt.  Vernon,  O.  1795 
Young,  Harrie,  Aurora,  IH.  1950 

Young,  John  J.,  Braceville,  111.  3246 

Young,  Mason,  New  Yoilc  2146 

Young,  PhiKp,  Upper  Montdair,  N.  J.  751 
Young,  S.,  Dublin,  Ire.  1855" 

Young,  Wm.  H.,  Peoria,  111.  2899 

Youngman,  Will  B.,  (Lancaster,  Pa.)  ^  la^ 
Youngs,  A.  J.,  Summit,  N.  J.  2549 

Zacharias,  Charies  R.,  Newatk,  N.  J.  384 
Zacharias,  Frank  R.,  Harper,  Kan.  3x38 
Zacharias  ft  Smith,  Newark,  N.  J.  aiS8, 2189 
Zem,  E.  G.,  Coal  Dale,  Pa.  3310 

Zem,  John  F.,  Weissport,  Pa.  3350 

Zimmerman,  Joshua,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  2128 
Zuchtmann,  L.  £.,  Springfield,  Mass.      1024 


The  foregoing  list  contains  3x96  names,  as  may  be  readily  proved  by  showing  that  it  oovtfs 
I X  lines  (22  names)  more  than  an  even  30  pages  of  106  names  to  the  page,  except  that  6  naoNS 
must  be  subtracted  for  taking  double  apace.  These  subscribers  have  pledged  for  3370  copies  «f 
the  book ;  and  the  largest  single  order,  from  the  80  of  them  who  ordered  more  than  one,  canae, 
oddly  enough,  from  the  man  whose  name  was  placed  by  the  alphabet  at  the  very  head  of  the  list 
He  took  x6 ;  the  second  highest  order  was  for  12  ;  there  were  seven  orders  for  10,  and  fewer  fir 
6,  5, 4  and  3  copies ;  while  "  2  "  was  the  order  of  about  40  subscribers.  The  "  eiuoHment  nuB- 
bers  "  for  these  duplicate  copies  have  been  omitted  from  the  printed  list  in  some  cases,  wfaare 
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,  iS%'.- 
may  be  found  on  pp.  794-6.  Folk>wing  this  is  a  directory  of  us  subscribing  tradeimeD,  u 
whose  offices  the  book  may  be  cdosulled,— their  names  being  anrangcd  alphabetically  on  pp. 
796.7,  and  geographicaUy  on  pp.  798-9. 


XL. 

DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 

Tm  names  of  the  3000  sabecribers,  which  have  )ust  been  exhibited  alphabeticany,  are  here 
xcpeated  geographically.  They  are  grouped  under  residence-towns,  which  are  alf^betised  by 
States ;  and  the  order  of  these,  from  Maine  to  California,  is  given  at  the  head  of  the  previous 
chapter.  Libraries,  hotels  and  clubs  are  italicised,  and  are  named  in  advance  oi  private  sub* 
■cribers.  The  double  asterisk  (**)  denotes  insertion  in  "  Trade  List  of  Agencies  where  this 
book  may  be  bought  or  consulted  " ;  which  list  forms  the  condosion  of  the  present  chapter, 
and  which  agencies  belong  for  the  most  part  to  dealers  in  bicycles,  who  are  otherwise  designated 
b^  the  single  asterisk  (*).  Clergymen  are  marked  by  t,  lawyers  by  t,  physicians  by  H,  dentists  by 
I  and  druggists  by  § ;  while  small-capitals  are  used  as  follows :  lc,  League  consul ;  ux,  heagim 
chief  consul  (the  president  of  a  State  Division) ;  lk.  League  representative ;  ls,  League  secretary^ 
treasurer  (of  a  State  Division) ;  l  applied  to  a  club  means  that  all  its  members  belong  to  the 
League ;  l  applied  to  a  hotel  means  that  the  League  recommends  it ;  tc  and  tcc  mean  consid 
and  State  consul,  respectively,  of  the  English  "  C.  T.  C" ;  wc,  woe  and  wa  mean  consul,  chief 
consul  and  representative,  req)ectively,  in  the  Canadian  Wheelmen's  Association ;  o  means  a 
non-rider  and  n  a  non-member  of  club.  Capital  letters  designate  dub  ofltoers  thus :  B,  bugler  { 
C,  captain ;  F,  flagman  (oolor-bearer) ;  L,  lieutenant ;  P,  president ;  S,  secretary ;  T,  treasurer  i 
snd  they  are  used  as  follows  in  the  title-lines  (the  town's  name  being  understood  when  no  other 
b  given):  B.  C,  bicyde  dub;  C.  C,  cyde  dub;  T.  C,  tricyde  dub;  W.  C,  wheel  club; 
Wl'n,  wheelmen.  The  parenthesis,  when  around  a  dub's  name,  means  that  those  grouped  be- 
low are  presumed  to  be  members  ;  when  around  a  man's  name,  it  means  that  he  has  left  the 
town  or  dub ;  when  around  the  offidal  letters,  it  means  that  he  has  left  the  office.  As  official 
tenns  are  all  the  while  ending,  by  resignation  or  limitation,  the  parenthesis  should  doubtless  be 
oaed  in  many  cases  where  the  "  ex  "  has  not  been  called  to  my  notice ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  many  active  officers  are  left  unmarked  because  of  my  ignorance  as  to  their  election  or 
appointment.  Likewise  in  ngaxd  to  club-membership,  the  mistakes  must  be  numerous,  as  wo- 
fauge  a  proportion  of  my  subscribers  have  neglected  to  inform  me  of  their  status.  In  the  short 
lists,  where  a  smgle  club  is  supposed  to  have  a  daim  on  all  names  not  excepted  by  "  n  "  or 
"  o  "  or  the  parenthesis,  I  pn^Uy  have  failed  to  make  exceptions  enough ;  while,  in  the  large 
towns,  where  the  dulMnembers  and  unattached  are  grouped  in  separate  alphabets,  it  is  almost 
certain  that  several  of  the  former  should  be  wrongly  dassed  among  the  latter.  In'iine,  I  do  not 
ask  any  one  to  accept  this  Directory  as  a  piece  of  perfection.  I  the  rather  warn  all  concerned 
to  be  reconciled  in  advance  to  its  inevitable  shortcomings  and  errors.  Yet,  with  all  its  faults,  it 
represents  an  enormous  amount  ci  painstaking ;  and  I  therefore  trust  it  may  be  admired  by 
some,  in  the  same  spirit  which  ensured  praise  to  the  performing  dogs  of  Dr.  Johnson's  time— 
"  not  that  they  danced  well ;  the  wonder  was  they  danced  at  all." 


MAINE. 

Avgtuta  Hmut^  C.  S.  Hicbbom. 

BWBgort  (ftw  Trt€  W,  C,  Oct  33,  '83), 
James  Crosby,  W.  R.  Roberts,  VP, 

Geo.  O.  Hall,  C.  J.  H.  Ropes,  tN, 

O.  B.  Humphrsy.iL,  W.  F.  Stone, 
Charles  A.  Lyon,*      F.  C.  Weston. 

BeUtet :  J.  Louis  Pendleton, 
Gea  T.  Read,*  Fred  J.  Stephenson. 


Bmniwlck :  Bawdom  CoUegt  Library. 
Calais  :  iCalais  B.  C,  1885), 

American  HffUM^  by  D.  M.  (^ardner» 

Frank  H.  Moore,  S. 
Dexter :  W.  A.  SmalL 
Fairfield :  James  O.  Whittemore. 
Lewistom: 

A.  F.  Nutting,  Elmer  I.  Thonaa 

Lvbeo :  Cthseook  HoUl,  by  T.  J.  Lincda. 
Pari! :  Will.  L.  Perham. 


766 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Portland :  {p.  W.  C  .org-aa/*. A  C.  ,Mar.  '80), 
PrebU  HoMU,  C.  H.  Lainaon«  lr, 

Herbert  M.  Bailey,     J.  H.  Laroson, 
L.  M.  Bickford.         G.  B.  Morrill, 
L.  J.Camey,(LR),  iL,WUbert  R.  Pitcher, B, 
F.  S.  Qarke,  iL,        John  P.  Sparrow, 
a.  L.  aough),  J.  C.  Stevens,  (C).P, 

F.  A.  ElweU,  Lcc,  C.C.  Tuke«bury,  S-T, 
L.  H.  Hallock,  tN,  F.  E.  Warren,  (S-T), 
H.S.Higgin»,  (2L),C,  F.  W.  Woodman. 

Solon :  Majnwrd  Houu. 

Watorville :  ElmwoodHoUl. 

Tarmouth :  Eugene  Humphrey. 

TannouthTrlllo :  J.  H.  Adams, 
Edwin  R.  MerriU,      Woodbury  Welch. 
NEW  HAMPSHIRE. 

Concord :  {AfamcJUster  B.  C,  Mar.  aa,  '82), 
F.  H.  Crapo,  W.  E.  Stone, 

F.  £.  Gale,  A.  F.  Sturtevant. 

BMt  Bocheiter :    {Star  W.  C. .  Oct.  6,'8a), 
Mabel  £.  Corson  (Miss),    G.  O.  Richards, 

F.  B.  Parshlcy,  P,      G.  C.  Vamey. 
Xxetar :  A.  H.  Giddings, 

Fred  S.  Fellowes,       W.  Burt  Folsom. 
Fitswllliam  :  Edwin  W.  Annable. 
Oreat  Falls :  {Crtsctnt  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, 

HanOYOr :  Dartm^Htk  CM.  Library, 
C.  S.  Cook,  J.  H.  Wright. 

Lancaster :  C.  D.  Batchelder,*  lr. 

Manchsster :  {M.B.C.),  H.M.  Bennett,  LCC, 
Elmer  E.  Brown,        F.  O.  Moulton, 
E.  A.McQueston,(LS.),  C.  H.Wilkins(LCc). 

MUford :  Chas.  S.  Emerson.* 

Kashua :  Wm.  V.  Gihnan,  lc,  tcc,  (lT). 

Portsmoath :  (i?Mr/bii^Aam^.C.,May8,'8o), 

.  Ktarutrg*  Houu,      W.  W.  Mclntire,  C, 
C.A.  Haslett,(LCc),P,  Frank  W.  Moses. 
Mrs.  C.  A.  Haslett,    Frank  Preston, 
J.  H.  Knox,  H.  M.  Tucker,  S-T. 

Sochester:  {Star  IV.  C,  Oct.  6, /8a), 
/>4M^'«  fffiifl,  T,       C.  M.  Dockham, 
Fred  L.  Chedey,        Willie  M.  Hartford, 
C  H.  Cole.  E.  H.  Morrill, 

£.  H.  Corson,**  tc,  S.  F.  Sanderson,  § 
Ehner  E.  Corson,       Seorim  Swaine. 

Salmon  Falls :  John  W.  Mclntire. 

South  Newmarket :  J.  A.  Spead,  *lc 
VERMONT. 

Bam  :  F.  W.  Sheibuhie. 


Bellows  FftUs :  Geo.  F.  BaU, 
Fred  H.  Kimball,  lc,  J.  T.  Mitchell. 

Bennington  :  Henry  D.  Fillmore. 

Brattleboro:  (F«rmM/;r.C.,May6,'84),u 
Brooks  Houst,  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.  TiUinghast), 
J.  G.  Estey,  W.  F.  Walker,  o, 

F.  Goodhue,  o.  W.  C  WillarxL 

Burlington:  W.K.  Menns,C.R.Pahner.,L.c. 

'AyxMiaxA:  RialoMd  BL  Cbtb,  l,  Nov.  la.'Si, 
BardweU  House,  l,    F.  W,  Knapp,  L, 
W.  J.  Bagley,  A.  S.  Marshall,  P, 

N.  R.  Bardy,  (P),       N.  S.  Marshall, 
O.  M.  Barton,  C  G.  Ross,  lcc,  C, 

J.  R.  Bates,  S,lc,tc,  William  Ross, 
S.  Bowtcll,  jr.,  F.  G.  Tuttle,  (T). 

W.  W.  Burr,  lc,  H.  L.  Burt,  (B),  k. 

St.  Albans :  Geo.  H.  Wells. 

Springfield  :  Fred  M.  Harlow,  lc 

Wallixigford :  H.  C.  Townscnd,  lc 

Waterbuxy :  Fred  E.  Atkins,  lc 

West  Bandolph : 
F.  E.  DuBoU,  LC,       Geo.  R.  Walker. 

MASSACHUSETTS. 

Abington  :    Eben  Fish,  lc,  Charles  Reed.t 

Allston  :  (-4 .  B.  C.  ,Mar.  14/85), A.  H .  Everett. 

Amesbury :  A.  F.  Greenleaf,  lc 

Amherst: 
Edgar  R.  Bennett,      Willard  A.  Thayer, 
Glenroy  A.  Thayer,    John  K.  Tnislow. 

Andover :  W.  B.  Segur. 

Bererly :  {Tkomdihe  B.  C),  J.  Wood,  jr.* 

Boston  :  StaU  Library,  State  House, 
Boston  Athenmum  Library,  Beacon  St., 
HoUl  Vsndamt,  l.  Commonwealth  av., 
InUmationai  Hotel,  633-625  Washington  st. 
Abbot  Bassett,LK,  (ed.  Cycle\  aa  School  at., 
John  R.  Chad  wick,  75  State  St., 
Joseph  G.  Dalton,  87  Boylston  st, 
J.  S.  Dean,  t  (lc,  Q,  i  L,  a8  State  St., 
Wm.  H.  Edmands,  (Q,  87  Boylston  sL, 
W.  B.  Everett,  CT),  338  Washington  at, 
Willis  Farrington,  (l  c),  T  c,  (Lowell), 
E.  C  Hodges,  P.,  a8  State  at., 
Chas.  S.  Howard,  48  Chester  sq., 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


767 


W.  G.  Kendall,  B  LC,  ut,  TC,  176  TVemootst  I 
B.  L.  Knapp,  161  Tremont  St., 
Theodore  Rothe,  613  Wathington  at, 
Frank  W.  Weaton,  (tccX  Savin  HUl, 
Edw.  S.  Wheeler,  45  High  at, 
E.  G.  Whitney,  lc,  aL,  106  Dartnxmth  at. 
The  14  names  aboire  given  belong  to  mera- 
bera  of  the  Boston  B.  C,  the  oldeat  b  Amer- 
ica, now  at  36  St  James  avenue,    net  aa 
noted  on  p.   105.    The  38  namea  following, 
ananged    in    double-column,   represent  the 
Manachuaetta  B.  C,  whose  bouse  is  at  152 
Newbury  at  (also  described  on  p.  los),  and 
whoae  membership  of  150  exceeds  that  of  any 
other  similar  dub   in   the  workL    The  a6 
namea  in  the  third  list  are  those  of  unattadied 
riders,  or  men  whose  club  connections  have 
not  been  reported  to  me.  Total  for  Boston,8a. 


John  S.  Ballon, 
F.  H.  Bosson, 
J.  P.  Burbank, 
Wm.  Vinal  Burt, 
Daniel  W.  Colbath, 
H.  D.  Corey, 
Chas.  H.  Corken, 
(E.  R.  Drew), 
N.  C.  Fowler,  jr., 
J.  J.  GilHgan, 


Frank  P.  Martin, 
Stuart  C.  Miller, 
Arthur  H.  Page, 
A.  S.  Parsons,  (P>, 
Arthur  E.  Pattison, 
A.  A.  Pope,  (P),  •• 
Edward  W.  Pope, 
George  Pope,  (C,S), 
Chas.  E.  Pratt,  %  lr, 
F.  A.  Pratt,  tcc,  S, 


W.  I.  Harris,  LC,  lr,  W.S.  Slocuro,(VP,S), 
F.  W.  Heymer,  Arthur  M.  Tenlon, 

T.  W.  Higginson,  P,  F.  J.  Williams, 
Charles  F.  Joy,  H.W.  Winiaraa,t(P), 

Geo.  B.  Brayton,  Jr.,  143  Tremont  at, 
W.  D.  Ball.ir  674!  Tremont  St., 
Joseph  Butcher,  6^8  Berkeley  st, 
D.  J.  Canary,  care  of  Pope  Mfg.  Co., 
James  E.  Colbath,  381  Northampton  st, 
Charles  R.  Dodge,  (i7S  Tremont  St.), 
M.  H.  Downs,  o,  13  Water  at., 
Henry  Parker  Fellows,  to,  aS  School  St., 
Herman  Flister,  jr.,  16  Fayette  at., 
Edward  O.  Goss,  43  Bowdoin  st, 
W.  J.  Hall,  II  Mt  Vernon  st., 
F.  A.  Hents,  a  Kenilworth  st., 
Chas.  W.  Howard,  tx:,  si  Milk  st, 
Arthur  D.  Marcy,  453  Blue  Hill  av., 
Wm.  W.  Palen,  7a  South  at., 
Chaa.  C.  Parkyn,  143  Tremont  st. 
Pope  M%.  Co.,  ••  597  Washington  St., 
A.  J.  Purington,  8S  W.  Newton  st, 
Albert  D.  Rice,  6s  Blackatone  St., 
J.  Winfred  Spenceley,  700  Shawmut  tv., 
W.  K.  Stebbina,  70  Winter  st, 


M.  F.  Sweetser,  o,  ai  1  Tkemont  st, 
Ticknor  &  Co.,^  an  Tremont  at, 

F.  H.  Tremere,  30  Alaaka  at.,  (HighlandaX 
Geo.  H.  Walker  &  Co.,**  160  Traraont  st, 
J.  H.  H.  Watson,  499  Dudley  st 

Bridgewatar:  A.  Cushman. 
Brightwood:  Chas.  A.  Fisk. 
Srookton:  (C«^  B,  C,  May  34,  '8x), 

G.  C.  Holmea,  (F.  H.  Johnaoo,  C). 
Cambridge:  Harvard  Coli.  Likrary, 

T.  W.  Higginson,       C.  J.  Rolfe, 

W.  B.  Howland,         Fremont  Swain.t 

Cambridgeport:  Ernest  R.  Benaon, 
Stuart  C.  Miller,       W.  J.  Shannon. 

Charlaatown:  (C.  B,  C),  Jaa.  C.  Du£L 

Chalaea:  (C.  B,  C,  1879),  Arthur  M.  Piwt 

Chicopee:  D.  Albert  Gushing, 
F.  F.  Parker,  H  o,    C.  J.  WetaeL 

Chicopee  Falla:  Irvin  W.  Page, 
F.  M.  Parker,  Corey  Wood. 

Concord:  F.  Alcott  Pratt,  lc,  tcc 

Conway:  Wm.  A.  Thomas,!  a 

Deexfleld:  E.  R.  Porter. 

Dorchetter:  (r.^.C,'8a),  W.S.  Doane,  it, 
E.A.Hemmenway,S,  C.  J.  Upham,  P. 

Baat  Brimfield:  Emeat  B.  Smith. 

Bast  Cambridge  :  W.  C.  Dillingham. 

Xaathampton:  AdtiplU  Library  0/  w.  S., 
Chas.  J.  Keene,        J.  H.  Sawyer.f  o. 

Fan  BiTor:  (B.  C),  C  S.  W»dy,  S-T. 

FitcUmrg:  (F.  AC, '79).  G.  A.  Wilson,  lc 

Iloreaoe:  (F.C.C.),  Harry  B. Haven,  jr.,  iL. 

Ftamingham:  Franklin  Hutchinson,  t 

Gardner:  W.  C.  Axtell. 

Qceenfleld:  (G.  B.  C,  July  m,  '8a), 
(Hdlis  B.  Bagg,  P),   F.R.  HoUister,  lc,C, 
C.  H.  Field,  aL,        G.  H.  Kaulbach,  S. 
F.  E.  Hawks,  Li,      R.  D.  Warner. 

Oloneeeter:  Conrad  R.  Hanaoo, 
J.  S.  Webber,jr.,LR.  TC. 

HayerhiU:  (//.  B.  C\  J.  F.  Adams,  (S),  tc 

HaydMiville:  W.  J.  Fuller, 
W.  L.  Larkin,  E.  C  Miller. 

HoUiaton:  Wiflie  H.  FUke,  lc 

Holyoke:  (H.  B.  C,  Sept  i,  '81), 
Benj.  Brooks,  o,         J.  S.  McEIwahi,  o, 
£.  C.  Oarke,  lc,  C,  C.  W.  Ramage, 
H.  M.  Farr,  iL,        C.  B.  Ross, 
Herbert  Fenno,  (iL),  (F.  B.  Towne), 
Wm.  O.  Green,LR,P,Chaa.  A.  Tattle,  B. 

HOpedale:  Fred  L.  Fay. 

HjdePkrk:  T.  A.  Walter,  lc 

Jamalea  Plain:  H.  W.  Waneo. 


768 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


LftwrauM:  (Zr.  B.  Ct  '79)»  £•  E>  Bnndi, 
M.  D.  Currier,  (lcc),  P,  D.  M.  Spoooer,  B. 

1(86:  AfefykM  J/MUt. 

Lndagtoii:  Albert  S.ParMiu,uc,  (lr,  lCSX 

LoweU:(/:.^.C,AiMr.,»8a),  £.  L.Coolidge,§ 
Edw. EllingwoodyLC,  J.  Z.  Rogers, 
Willis  FarringtonyTC,  W.  S.  Kdly. 

lynn:  {StarB.  C,  Nov.  5/79;  L.  C.  C.,and 
BMC0MB.  C.)»       Geo.  £.  Cain, 
F.  A.  Lindaey,(P),S,  W.E.Smitb,LC,(VP). 

lUldea:  iM.C,C.,  July/84),C.W.  Flanden, 
Geo.  S.  Harrington,  Fred.  A.  Wilom. 

MftHlflllW:  H.  C  Wilmarth. 

ICarbldhMd:  {M.  B,  C,  May  ai,  *8i). 
Marble' dBL  CM,  cor.  School  and  Pleasut, 
Geo.  Chinn,  lr,  P,    P.  Howard  Shiriey.S. 

Kadford:  Richard  Boodi,  C, 
Chas.  J.  Holland,  iL,  17  Park, 
JoMph  H.  Wheeler. 

Merriek:  Glen.  C.  Friaaell,  o. 

Herrimae:  {M.  B.  C,  July,  '84), 
John  W.  Li^an,  C,   H.  C.  Oak,  lc,  iL. 

Hllford:  {B.C.,  May,*8o).  C.  H.  Fisher,  &c 

mUlnify:  (Af.  B.  C),  Wm.  E.  Gale,  P, 
C.  F.  Holman,  S,  T,  Arthur  W.  Rice,  L. 

Miller's  Falls:  C.  E.  Lester. 

Milton:  Anhar  Cunningham. 

Needhsm:  W.  C.  Freeman,  )r. 

Newton:  (AVmm/wim  C.C.\  E.  P.  Bumham. 

Northsmpton:  (AT.  B,  C,  March  1,  '82), 
Mmsum  Hotoi,         (W.  J.  FuUer), 
E.  C.  Davis,  C,         Daniel  Pickaid,  f  P. 

Vorth  Andovw:  H.  G.  Johnson. 

Orance:  i.0.  W.  C,  Sept,  84), 
O.D.Hapwood,(S,P),  C.  H.  Shepvd,  C, 
W.  E.  Osterfaont,  L,  (M.  R.  WindiellV 

PSSlmer:  Louis  E.  Chandler,  lc 

Pittsfleld:  {Berkskir*  C».  WVn\ 
L.  L.Atwood,f  LC,  C.C.Kennedy,(iL),C, 
C.  F.  Bassett,  E.  H.  Kennedy,  P, 

H.  W.  Buckingham,  W.  P.  Odell, 
Chas.  E.  Churchill,    E.  P.  Stevenaon,VP, 
J.  H.GieenfieldXsL),  J.  M.  Stevenson,  o, 
H.  E.  Henry,  H.  G.  West,  (C),  T, 

P.  W.  Jones,  (S),       W.  R.  WUder. 
W.  S.  Kens,S.    (Ofg.as/».AC.,May,»79.) 

Prlnoeton:  lVaeh»mUHmat{B§aman^y 

Beading:  W.  J.  Hall. 

Boxiniry:  Arthur  M.  Little,  J.  E.  Savell,  lc 

Balem:  SnUm  Bkyde  C&a,  ssa  Eskx  St., 
Chas.  H.  OdeD,  F.  P.  Syroonds,  P, 

.   A.  J.  Philbriek,  Arthur  N.  Webk 

8omervme>  {S,  C  C.),Geo.  E.WhitymE. 


Sontli  AUttcton  Station: 

F.  V.  Ames,  Joseph  PcaBe,|r. 
Sooth  Boston:  John  B.  Given, 

Geo.  P.  Osbom,         F.  J.  WiUiao^ 
Herbert  A.  Thayer,    John  H.  WrigfaL 

Sonthbildce:  G.  M.  Lovell,  LcCM.Wdia. 

Booth  Framingfaam:  H.  J.  Metcalt 

Sooth  Gardner:  (Knockahgiti  W,  C,  18S4}, 
Lewis  C.  Travers,LC  (P),  41  Broadway. 

So|UhHadl07  Falls:  F.  B.  Towne. 

Sooth  Soitoate:  Wm.  H.  Fish,  jr.  t 

Spenoer:  Janes  Aldrich.  •• 

Springfield:  (S.  B.  C),  l.  City  L»rawy, 
SpriMgfUld  Bkyck  CM,  l.  May  6, 1881, 
H.  N.  Bowman,         W.  I.  Lyman, 
M.  B.  Breck,  A.  O.  McGanett,  Q 

Charles  Claik,  C  H.  McKnight, 

B.  J.  Craig,  W.  C  Manh,  T. 
Henry  S.  Croesmaa,  C.  H.  Miller,  F. 
M.  R.  Grossman,       D.  £.  Miller, 
(Orel  £.  Davies).        Geo.  &  Miller, 
H.E.  Duckv,LCC,P.,  F.  O.  Moody. 
P.  H.  Dunbar,  C  W.  Parks, 

£.  T.  Dyotte,  F.  E.  Ripley, 

Fred.  £.  EMred,  aL,  EvercU  E.  Sawtell, 
WiU  Eldred,  W.  H.  Sehey,  VP. 

(A.L.Fennes8y,S,T),  Eugene  L.  Smith, 
J.  H.  Fennessy,  jr.,  A.  L.  Spooner, 
Chas.  A.  Fisk,  (T),    W.  C  Slooe, 
C  S.  Fiske,  A.  B.  Wasnm^ 

A.  H.  R.  Foss,  B,     (Chaa.  P.  Waaam«), 
J.  H.  FouMs,  ir.,  F,C  J.  Wetxel, 
M.  D.  GiUett,*  F.  W.  Westcrveb, 

C.  R.  Haradon,         C.  E.Wliipple,(CXir,. 
Geoise  M.  Hendee,  O.  N.  Wbippk, 
(CT.Higpnbotham),  Robt.  D.  White, 

C  W.  Hutchins,        Fred  G.  Wight, 
W.  H.  Joidan,(VP),  E.  M.  Wilkiaa, 
San{onlLawton,La,S,  H.  J.  Winans,  sL, 
£.  F.  Leonard,  iL,    W.  N.  Wiums,  (C), 

G.  H.  Lucas,  L.  £.  Zochtmana. 
These  54  names  are  outnumbered  by  only 

one  dab-representation  upon  my  list;  and,  as 
ao  non^ub  subsoiben  are  naased  below,  the 
total  represcntatioa  of   Springfield  is  moch 
huger  than  that  of  any  other  town  having 
3S,ooo  people,  and  is  ooly  encfifdfd  by  a  lew  - 
of  the  great  cities. 
John  S.  Bagg,to,      A.  D.  Copefaad, 
Fred  J.  Bradley,        W.  M.  CortheH, 
Chris.  F.  Bm ropes,   Frank  H.  FoOer,  o^ 
Thos.  W.  Cobim,      J.  D.  GiU,M  (^ 
S.  W.  Coe,  C.  U.  Gin. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN, 


769 


S.  E.  Hamill,  Geo.  S.  Payne, 

A.  F.  Jennmgs,**  o,  W.  D.  Remington, 
W.  G.  Laades,  F.  Searle,fl  o, 

O.  E.  Mansfield,        £.  R.  Stickney, 
M.  Bradley  Co.,*»      F.  A.  Wakefield. 

atonahftm:  (^.^.C./8i),  F.  H.Me8Mr,(S). 

Taimtoii:  (71  B.  C.\ 

Wm.  H.  Pendleton,  Wm.  C.  Williams,  C 

Tttnpleton:  Chas.  H.  Lane. 

Vineymrd  Hatszi:  S.  F.  Harriman.t 

WakeflAld:  {JV,  B.  C,  July,  'Sj), 
Geo.  P.  Abom,  C,    Frank  H.  Burrill,  (C), 
E.D.AIbee,LC,(S-T),  Will  E.  Eaton,  (VP), 

Walthun:  Wm.  Shakespeare,*  O.E.  Dairies. 

Wajlaad:  Chas.  C.  Parkyn. 

WellMloy  Hills:  Geo.  R.  White. 

Westboro:  (IKAC.,Apr.»8a),lfV*/'*//^/f/, 
Henry  L.  Chase,        Henry  D.  Stone, 
H.  Scudder  Drake,t  F.  O.  Swallow,  lc  § 

Wettfleld:  {Waromoeo  WCh,  Aug.  14,  '84), 
J.  A.  Lakin  &  Co.,"  Arthur  E.  While. 

Weit  SpringfLald:  W,  S.  Town  LUfrary, 
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:  {H^.  B.  C,  May  4,  'Sj), 
B.W.  Burrell,(S),  P,  B.  F,  Johnson,  lc. 

WhiUnSTllle:  W.  W.  Dudley,  O.  L.  Owen. 

WilllAinstOWn:   Mamum  House. 

Wobnni:  J.  E.  Roberts. 

WoroMter :  (^.if.C,  consoltd'd  with  /Eaitts 
IV 'Pn,  Nov.  xo,  '8a;  incorp.,  July,  *8s), 
Frt0  Public  Library^  Bay  State  Home^ 
Walter  H.  Adams,    Lincoln  Holland,*  T, 
Carl  Bullock,  F.  P.  Kendall, lr,lT,P, 

H.  W.  Carter,  David  Manning,  to, 

A.  H.  Hammar,       Chas.  F.  Snow, 
A.  E.  Hartshorn,     W.  K.  Stebbins, 
F.  E.  Higgins,         Homer  J.  Whiting, 
HiU  &  Tohnan,**    H.  M.  Wood, 
RHODE  ISLAND. 

Bast  Oreenwloh:  S.  H.  Day.f 

P»wtuokot:(/».-5.C.),L,Fred  Binford,  (Q, 
J.  A.  Chase,t  lcc,  P,  B.  W.  Gardner. 

Provldenoe:  {P.  B.  C,  July  7,  *79)i 
Providence  B.  C,      R.  G.  Gamwell,  N, 
W.  P.  Anthony,  tc,  J.  B.  Hamilton,  tN, 
F.  B.  Armington,iL,  F.  H.  Hayward, 
A.G.Carpenter,TCC,PJ.  W.  McAuslan,  F, 
E.  C.  Danforth,  (C),  V.  W.  Mason,  jr., 
S.  C.  De  Munn,        H.  P.  Morgan, 
E.  G.  Fanner,  jr.,      H.L.Perkins,(S),  VP. 
49 


Warren:  Louis  A  Pope,  t 
Westerly:  J.  Howard  Moigan.  t 

CONNECTICUT. 
Aiwmla;  Louis  F.  AuschuU, 

John  C.  Carl,  Fred.  M.  Drew. 

BlrmlnghaTn:  {Derly  W.  C), 

Bassett  House,  by  Wm.  Kellogg,  o, 

E.  B.  Gager,  Willie  E.  Plumb,  jr., 
(H.  W.  Gilbert),         Will  G.  Taylor, 
Lester  E.  Hickok,      E.  N.  Tolles, 
Charles  P.  Hubbard,  J.  H.  Tomlinson. 

Branford:  Thomas  E.  Crouch,  lc 

Bridgeport:  {Pequomtack  IV.C.Juiy  i5,»8o), 
PuUic  Library,  Geo.  H.  Johnson,  P, 
Fred.  C.  Burroughs,  C.  W.  Spooner,  (lr), 
Wm-  F.  Healy,(Lc),  A.  N.  Stanton,  (C). 

Bristol:  M.  L.  TifEany. 

Cheshire:  (C.  IV.  C,  March  ay,  ^85), 
IVaiiace  House,  by  H.  E.  Howe. 

Daobnry:  (.Pahquiogue  B.  C,  1883,  merged 

in  the  Dau6ury  fV.  C,  Mar.  5,  *8s), 

L.L.Hubbell,LR,(Lc),S-T.,J.G.Irving,u:,C. 

Derby:  {DH^QM-  E.  CUrke,  H.W.Gilbert. 

East  Berlin:  W.  W.  Mildnim,  lc. 

East  Windsor  Hill:  C.  J.  RockweU. 

Oreenwlch:  Lenox  House. 

Hartford:  {Connecticut  fV.C, Oct.  20^*79),  u, 
MfrrilPs  Restaurant, Geo.  £.  Leffingwell, 

F.  E.  Belden,  S-T,  Geo.  E.  Marsh, 
G.H.Burt,(LT),  LC,     D.  J.  Post, 

G.  H.  Day,  (lr),"  T.Sedg'ckSteele,(P), 
John  W.  Gray,  S.  Terry,tP,  lr,VP,(lT), 
C.  G.  Huntington,  lcc,  (sL),  A.  J.  Welles. 
C.  A.  Kellogg,  Ls,  Robt.  F.  Way,  (lc),  iL. 

The  following  are  not  club  members: 
Thomas  Glover,  Wm.  A.  Lorenz, 

John  B.  Griggs,  J.  B.  Spencer, 
JohnM.HoIcombe,o,  Robert  Thome, 
W.  H.  Honiss,  Weed  S.  M.  Co.,»» 

Edward  S.  House,    H.  W.  Whitehouse. 

Lime  Bock:  C.  D.  Knox. 

Meriden:  {M.  IV.  C,  May  17,  '83), 
The  IVintkro^,  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,  n, 
James  F.  Gill,  B.  F.  Pomeroy, 

J.  M.  Harmon,  (S),  Reuben  Rice, 
C.  L.  Lyon,  (P),        T.  S.  Rust,  D  (Q,  P. 

Middletown:  MiddUtown  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  Britain:  (M  B.iV.  C,  Feb.  15,  '84), 
HoUl  BasuUt  E.  P.  Goodrich,  §  n, 

H.  B. Arnold,(S),  aL,  CCRowbeiig, (C),P, 
W.  S.  Case,  (iL),        F.  Slater,  (P),  iL, 
A.  F.  Corbin,  (aL),     E.  H.  Taylor. 

New  Haven:  (M  H.B.  C,  Jan.  24,  *8o), 
VaU  Coll.  Library^    LiMonian  LUnreayt 
James  B.  Brand,         LeRoy  J.  Kirkham, 
M.  F.  Campbell,        Wm.  L.  Peqk,  aL, 
H.  A.  Chidscy,  J.  S.  Pienrepont, 

W.  M.  Frisbie,  T.lr,  Sam  F.  Punderson, 
Samuel  G.  Ilusted,     F.  S.  Slanter, 

F.  A.  Jackson,  tc,     W.  H.  Thomas,  (ls), 

G.  H.  Jennings,  M.  F.  Tyler,  X  (P), 
J.W.  Jewett,t(T),3L,  John  H.  Whiting.  X 

The  following  are  not  club  members: 
Wyllys  Atwatcr,  o,      G.  P.  MacGowan, 
Henry  A.  Beers,  0,     (Geo.  D.  Miller,  o), 
F.  B.  Dexter,  o,         E.  L.  Parmelee, 
C.  T.  Driscoll,  to,      T.  H.  Russell,  X 
Thomas  Hooker,  o,    Robert  A.  Smith,* 
W.  E.  Martin,  W.  K.  Townsend.to, 

Ed.  P.  Merwin,  jr.,  J.  M.  Trowbridge, 
E.  O.  Jeralds,  Eli  \Vhitney,  jr.,  o. 

New  Milford:  {Comeiia  W.  C), 
Joe  F.  Farrally,  S,     George  T.  Soule,  C 

New  Preston:  Alexander  Mitchell. 

Noank:  Robert  Palmer,  jr. 

Norwich:  (A^.  Ltntdon  Co.^^'Pn,}^^Xi.,^%^\ 
H.  Hubbell,  John  M,  Thayer,  to. 

PlantSvUle:  A.  B.  A.  Walkley. 

Blverton:  Frank  L.  Stephens. 

BockTiUe:  (^.  B.  C,  Oct.  23,  '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. 

Stamford:  i,S.  W.  C,  Jan.  10,  '84), 
Stamford  Home,  l,   Harry  W.  Hurlbutt, 
Depot  ResiauraMt,  L,  W. A. Hurlbutt, lr,P, 
W.L.Baldwin,LC,S-T,Nelson  Jessup, 
Gilbert  S.  Benedict,    Wilbur  E.  Lewis, 
C.  F.  Burlcy.ll  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, 

Clias.  L.  Hoyt,  Henry  J.  Warren. 

Snffleld:  Leroy  H.  Sikes,  lc 

Thomaaton: 
C.  T.  Higginbotham,  H.  H.  Teamea. 

▼emon  Depot:  Geo.  B.  Thayer,  lc 

Watorbury:  (W'.  W.  C,  April.  »8i), 


HoUis  B.Bagg,(P),N,  Howaxd  Curtis, 
Rollin  R,Bird,  iL,      N.  C  Ovialt,  S-T. 
West  Anaonla:  Wm.  G.  Brown. 
WilUmantie:  Horace  A.  Adams,  lc, 
G.  W.  Holman,  f       Fred  S.  Page 
Tantic:  Winslow  F.  Wflliams,  flue.* 

NEW  YORK. 
Albany:  {A,  B.  C,  Aug.  35,  *8o), 
J.G.Burch,ir,L*,(S)C,H.  Gallicn,  S-T,  u, 
J.  L.  Qough,  N,         Robert  A.  Hamikoo, 
J.  E.  Crane,  jr.,  A.  L.  Judaon, 

S.D.M.Goodwin,to,  F.  MunselL 
Athens:  N.  G.  Allen,  Philip  Graii  t 
Aubnin:  {A .  B.  C. , June,'Sa),E,  F.  Pajker,LC 
Batavia:  (.B.B.C,  June  i5,'83)»E.E.Peifsoii. 
Binghamton:  {B.  B.  C,  Jane,  '8a), 

G.Jones,  (lc),  lr,C,  C.E.TitchcncrXC,P)L* 
Brighton:  Arthur  C.  Hills. 
Brooklyn:  (A  B,  C,  June  ai,  '79), 
Brooklyn  Public  Librmyt  Montague  sJ., 
Wm.  Adams,  Wm,  F.  CuUen,  (P). 

Geoi^ge  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  St 
Felbc  St.      The  following  6  are  members  <A 
the  Heights  Wheelmen,  159  Monttgoe  st 
The  6  representatives  of  the  Bedford  C.  C 
stand  next ;  then  the  44  of  the  Kings  County 
W'l'n;    then  the   15  of   the    Long   Island 
W*l'n ;  and  finally  the  ai  unattached.    (See 
p.  97  for  further  details ;  also,  N. Y.  City  fisL) 
T.  G.  Condon,  (C),  64  Livingston  st., 
Alex.  R.  Dunnell,  C,  159  Mont;^;ue  sL, 
F.  L.  Dunnell,  S,  r66  Joralemon  sL, 
John  C.  King,  tja  Montague  st, 
R.  L.  Milhau,  391  Henry  st., 
C.  V.  Wintringham,  73  Willow  st. 
Bedford  C.  C,  729  Bedford  avenue, 
Geo.  Babcock,  VP,    S.  Henderson,  (P). 
E.  A.  Bradford,  P,     Chas.M.Richard5.(S) 
R.  N.  Chichester,  C,  J.  B.  Wright,  t  (Tl 
Kings  Co.  ^A««/Mrir,L,i59  Clymerst,E.D., 
(org..  Mar.  17.  *8i ;  incorp.,  May  7,  '84), 
W.  I.  Amerman,  340  Lafayette  av., 
E. K. Austin,(LR),Ls,(S,B),  593Wiiniby  av., 
W.  H.  Austin,  (B),  a68  S.  Fourth  st, 
(F.  G.  F.  Bariow,  (T),  170  Lee  av.), 
W.  D.  Bloodgood,  roi  Wilson  st, 
I.  S.  Bowdish,  too  Patchen  av., 
M.  L.  Bridgman,  lr,  iL,ata  Adelidii  st. 
Chas.  R.  Brown,  asa  Powen  at., 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


771 


(Gea  T.  Brown,  (P)»  iii  Reid  w,\ 
(Geo.  W.  Brown,  195  Penn  at.), 

E.  W.  Candidus,  aaS  S.  Ninth  sL, 
(Charlet  Cluth,  400  Grand  St.), 
Arthur  N.  Comes,  106  Hancock  st, 
Thoa.  C.  Crichtoo,  70  S.  Sixth  St., 
F.H.Douglas,  (S,  sub  C),  25  Bedford  av., 
Frank  N.  Fenstermaker,  81  S.  Ninth  St., 
Ed.  F.  Fisk,  (iL),  96  Lee  av., 

August  Grosch,  \  aas  Grand  St.. 
U.  J.  Hall,  jr.,  437  Claason  av., 
Thf «.  J.  Hall,  jr.,  707^  Myrtle  av., 
Tlos.  B.  Hegeman,  VP,  139  Sumner  av., 
Robt.  F.  Hibson,  P,  ui,  64  S.  Tenth  St., 
£pb.  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  sL, 
A.  C  D.  Loucks,  S,  181  McDonough  St., 

F.  W.  Loucks,  181  McDonough  St., 
William  Lowey,  73  Cumberland  sL, 
Chas.  McDougall,  67  Lee  av., 

F.  H.  Meeker,  844  Bushwick  av., 

J.  D.  Miller,  aL,  21S  Ross  St., 

R.  W.  Muns,  131  McDonough  St., 

Edward  Peltus,  C,  lc,  49  S.  Tenth  st., 

Chas.  Schwalbach,*  T,  lr,  lat  Penn  st, 

E.  S.  Seibert,  206  Penn  st, 

(Frank  J.  Smith,  (P,  C),  195  Division  av.), 

J.  M.  Sorzano,  Jr.,  (T),  24^  Carlton  av., 

(A.  Wan-en  Strong,  2L,  171  Fourth  st.), 

H.  H.  Stults,  1234  Fulton  St., 

E.  Valentine,  (Mt.  Vernon,  N.  V.), 

H.  Watson,  X03  Division  av., 

I^  P.  Weber,  36  Bedford  av., 

(A.  D.  Wilder,  81  S.  Ninth  St.), 

Ramon  V.  Williams,  35  Cambridge  Place. 

L.  /.  W^Vn,  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.  Mercereau. 
W,  J.  Brown,  S.  H.  Monell, 

Edw.  A.  Caner,  (lr),  W.  W.  Share,  P, 
H.  F.  Frasse.  C.  T.  Wcssels, 

Arthur  W.  Guy,  (Q,  E.  T.  Wessels, 
James  Hugging,  G.  B.  Winslow,  lr. 

The  following  are  not  club  members: 
Wm.  E.  Atwatcr,  376  Madison  St., 
Alex.  Cameron,  Jo,  (63  Wall  st.,  N.  Y.), 
S.  L.  Cromwell,  188  Columbia  Heights, 
A.  M.  Cunningham,  Jo,  189  Montague  st., 
J.  S.  Graham,  jr.,  435  Classon  av., 
Stansbury  Hager,  (Box  $32,  N.  V.  P.  O.), 


J.  M.  Harris,  7  Hahey  st, 

Chas.  A.  Horn,  Brooklyn  Library, 

H.  S.  Jaffray,  194  Ouroll  st., 

H.  C.  Jones,  39  Quincy  sL, 

Edwin  T.  Lake,  229  Hamilton  av., 

Wm.  N.  Milner,    • 

Jas.  J.  Oimsbee,  183  Joralemon  st., 

Chas.  F.  Pray,  93  Quincy  st., 

W.  L.  Scoville,  90  Amity  st., 

H.  Gardner  Sibell,  217  Franklin  av., 

Edw.  C.  Smith,  aaz  Washington  av..- 

R.  W.  Steves,  448  Van  Buren  St., 

£.  S.  Sutton,  134  Willoughby  av., 

M.  R.  Winchell,  139  Maple  av., 

C.  C.  Wool  worth,  jr.,  583  Washington  av. 

Buffalo:  (D.  B.  C. ,  Feb.  *79)»Im  Gemsee  Hmue, 
Ttji  HMUt,  465  Main  st., 
G.  F.  H.  Bartlelt.f  323  Delaware  av., 
E.  N.  Bowen,*  371  Pennsylvania  si., 
Will  S.  Bull,*  LR,  TC,  587  Main  st., 
Harry  E.  Choate,  75  W.  Tupper  st., 
C.  P.  Chuit:hill,  jr., 
H.  Cosack,  jr.,  ao2  Ointon  St., 
Samuel  J.  Curtis,  204  Seneca  st, 
J.  E.  Danielson,  P,  754  Main  St., 
**/.  E.  Donaldson,  973  Delaware  av., 
Frank  E.  Drullard,  (2L),  TC,83  Hodge  av., 
Julius  J.  Ehrlich,  688  Elliott  st, 
J.  F.  Foster,  68  Main  St., 
C.  B.  Graves,  200  N.  Division  St., 
H.  Hartley  Hayford,  335  Conicut  St., 
A.  E.  Hoddick,  333  Eagle  st., 
James  B.  Isham,*  14  E.  Seneca  st, 
A.  G.  Mang,  313  Main  St., 
Ralph  H.  Palmer,  163  College  st, 
Fred  W.  Pai«ons,  490  Delaware  av., 
Wm.  C    Peters, 
John  A.  Pferd,  150  West  av., 
W.  E.  Plummer,  jr.,  41  Lfoyd  st., 
Fred.  J.  Shepard,  C<w«r/>r  office, 
Henry  A.  Stahl,  73  W.  Huron  st., 
A.  H.  Stephenson,  F,  254  Fifteenth  St., 
Edgar  A.  Taylor,  38  White  Building. 

The  Jollowing  are  not  club  members: 
Wilson  S.  Bissell,  to,  376  Main  st.. 
Bull  &  Bowen,**  587-589  Main  st., 
Frank  S.  Buell,o,  193  Niagara  st, 
L.  W.  Gay,  184  Franklin  St., 
W.  J.  H.  Nourse,  33  West  Eagle  St., 
Ulbrich  &  Kingsley,**  365  Mara  st 

Burke:  Elmer  A.  Day. 

Caldwell  (Lake  George): 
Lake  f/tmu,  by  F.  G.  Tucker. 


772 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


CuniUldftlgoa:  (C.  B.  C,  June,  '8i), 
A. G.Coleman, II LRfTCC,  Geo.  W.  Hamlin, 
A.  W.  Crittenden,  lc,    Chester  C.  Hayes, 
Arthur  S.  Hamlin,  n,     C.  T.  MitchelLt 

Caasadag*:  L.  S.  Dezendorf. 

CazenOTla:  (C  B.  Tour.  C,  May  lo,  '8a), 
Stanton  House,  C.  M.  Knowlton,  C, 

C.  C.  Clarke,  Chas.  A.  Mann,  o, 

Wm.  B.  Curtis,Cr),    Chaa.  W.  OdeU, 
P.  £.  Denslow,  n,      J.  £.  Salsbury,  IT 
Sfev^reDorion,  P,*^(Jas.  Sturtevant), 
Tbos.  J.  Dwyer,  n,     W.  Thomas,  B, 
W.  A.  Emerick,  n,     W.  W.  Watkins,  n, 
A.  A.  Johnson,  W.  S.  Webber. 

Chatham:  .S^^a«wAr//ai7,(C.C.C., Jul.  3,'84), 
Wm.  Ditlerding,         Chas.  E.  Stewart, 
H.  I.  Fish,  Samuel  Swift, 

Geo.  E.  Patton,«*  S,  A.  E.  Tracy. 

Clinton:  Chas.  A.  Borst,  lc.* 

Cincinnatna:  Henry  C.  Higgins. 

Cohoes:  (C.  S.  C,  Nov.  i,  »84), 
L.  Boudrias,  jr.,||        H.  S.  Kavanaugh, 
F.  J.  Hiller,  P.  H.  Spillane.J 

ColdSpringHarbor Ji.L  :H.  G.  DeForest,to. 

Coming:  (C  B.  C),  S.  S.  Denton,  S,  lc, 
W.  J.  Hecrmans,      Wm.  H.  Sayles, 
H.  H.  Kendall,  P,     H.P.Stndaire,  jr.,  C. 

Cornwall:  M.  W.  Couser,  Reeve  Ketcham. 

Comwall-on-HudBon:  Elmer  House. 

Cortland:  H.  P.  Gray. 

Croton  Falls:  Edwin  H.  Abrama. 

DanBYllle:  C.  Ross  Brown. 

Dayton:  James  E.  Bixby,  lc. 

Dunkirk:  {B.  C),  Geo.  E.  Blackham,  tuL 

Ellington:  Geo.  E.  Haman,  lc 

Blmira:  (£'.if.C.),  Lou. H.Brown,  P,  lt, 
H.  S.  Kidder,C,(LR),  Allen  D.  Steele. 

Florida:  R.  E.  CampbeU,t 

Flushing,  L.  L :  {Afercury  W.  C. , Apr.  io,*84), 
A.  P.  Cobb,  LC,  C,  A.  Foster  King,  HP, 
(M.  F.  Covert,  S-T),  Townsend  Scudder. 

Fordham:  Wm.  B.  Krug. 

Fredonia:  F.  H.  Harrison. 

Friendship:  {AUegany  C<r.^/'«,JttQe,'83), 
M.BourdonCottreU,t  A.  C.  Latta, 
I^atta  Brothers,  **      £.  G.  Latta. 

Garrison's: 
Highland  Houut  byG.  F.  Garrison. 

OenSTft:  F.  Albert  Herendem. 

Oerry:  C.  E.  Gates,  9  Jamestown  B.  C. 

Glens  Falls:  RoekweU  House, \iyC.UVLodk^\, 
N.  R.  Gourley,  S.  R.  Stoddard.** 

Gnenwlsh:  {fi.B.O,  Chaa.  Griffin,  C. 


V.  (H.  tf^fn,  I04  W.  »4th  at), 
Dan  Sweeney* sSeUooUt  500  £.  tsjd  St., 
(Edgar  K.  Bourne),    Fred  W.  Styles, 
Wm.  H.  Degraaf,  P,  Frank  N.  Locd, 
a  H.  Diamond,         Ed.  C. Parker,  (C),T. 
See  fourth  list  of  New  York  City  for  fnll 
addresses  of  the  above,  and  for  ao  later  vah- 
scriliers  from  the  same  dub.    The  foflowing 
Harlem  subscribers  are  not  memliefs  of  it: 
Geo.  O.  Beach,  Walter  Ktots, 

J.  G.  D.  Burnett,        Frank  C.  Moore, 

E.  V.  Conner,  J.  FitzGerald. 
Highland  Mills:  Highland  MOU  HoUL 
Hudson:  {HB.CJn.  i.»8a),  If^orth  Homte, 

H.R.Bryan,LC,TC,C,*Wm.  F.  Rossman,  jr. 
Ithaca:  {Com.  Unto.  B.  C),  J.  H.  Day,  jr.. 

L.  J.  E.  J.  Lorbcr,(C),  P.  B.  Roberta. 
Jamaica:  Perdval  J.  Bemhard, 

Benj.W.Doughty,LC,  Chas.  R.  GaUie. 
Jamestown:  (/.  B.  C,  Oct.  4»  '84). 

Sherman  House,        E.  R.  Demphrey,  lc, 

F.  A.  Clapsadel,         C.  A.  Price,  T. 
Katonah:  W.  S.  Winans.t 
Klnderhook:  ICinderh'hHoiel,byW.Bt»dX'y, 

James  B.  Bc8l,(!C,AmherstColLB.C.  1S84X 
Lake  George:  Lake  House,  by  F.G.Tudwr. 
LeonardSTille:  {UnadiUaVal.B.C.,]xi.^\ 

C.  L.  Crandall,  T,      L.  B,  Wheeler,  P,  C, 
LeSoy:  {L.  B.  C.),W.  C.  Boak,  P. 
Little  Falls:  A.  J.  Benedict. 

D.  W.  Ingalls,  Geo.  L.  Smith. 
Lockport:  {Loch  CUy  nrVn,  Mxy,  '84), 

W.  L.  Beck,  B.  F.  Jadcaon,  C. 

Lyons:  G.H.Cramer,*  C.  R.  Harrington, lc 
Madison:  James  Sturtevant. 
Mariner's  Harbor,  S.L:  W.  M.  Braman. 
Middletown:  {Ml  B.  C,  Aug.  15,  '82), 

Wm.  Clemsen,  C.  H.  Foster, 

C.  S.  Dusenbcrry,  H.  C.  Qgden,  lc,  C* 
MtVemon:  {M/.  v.  B.  C,  Aug.  8,  »8i), 

A.E.Fauquier,(P,LR),Chas.  E.  Nichcds, 
Philip  H.  Lucas,  S,    E.  Valentine. 
Newburgh:  (A^.  B.  C),  t,  U.  States  Hotel, 
A.  J.  Barton,  L.Courtlandt  Jagger, 

D.  H.  Bower,  J.  T.  JosKn,  §••  tc, 
Chas.  E.  Corwin,    ^  Joel  A.  Joalin.f 
Thos.  T.  Haviland,    L.W.y.McCro8kefy| 
Frank  Hollister,         J.  E.  Wilson. 

New  Bochelle:  Chas.  F.  Canedy.t 

New  York  City:  {N.  V.  B.  C,  Dec  i8,'79), 

Grand  Union  Hotel,  l,  4th  av.  at  4ad  St., 
AT.  K  Bicycle  CM,  l,  30a  W.  58th  st., 

Edwin  W.  Adams,  lr,  (S),  114  Wall  st. 


DIRECTORY  Of  WHEELMEN. 


773 


W.  R.  Antbooy,  31a  Produce  Exchange, 
(Walter  R.  Benjamin,  .9im  office), 
C.  £.  Chapman,  7  Wall  at., 
Howard  Conkling,  (C),  27  £.  loth  st., 
ClarkaoQ  Coiri,  41a  Produce  Exchange, 
George  Daniels,  140  Naaaau  at., 
(Frank  £.  Davidaon,  610  Lexington  aT.)i 
Edward  L.  Gridley,  328  W.  aSth  at., 
Smith  A.  Haniman,  46  W.  a6th  St., 
R.  R.  Haydock,  T,  83  (^lambera  St., 
Edw.  F.  Hill,  u,  (lcc),  (Peekskill,  N.Y.), 
Henry  E.  Janes,  Broadway  at  36th  St., 
J.  Oswald  Jimenis,  (aL),  iL,  1x3  Wall  St., 

F.  W.  Kitching,  94  Reade  sL, 
(Thos.  W.  Knox,  Lotos  Qub), 

H.  H.  Meyer,  (T),  38  Exchange  Place, 
J.  C.  Mott,  118  Wanen  st, 
Charles  Power,  31a  Produce  Exchange, 
Kingman  Putnam,)  (S,lCS),  54  Wall  St., 
H.  S.  Raven,  15  Wall  st, 
Girard  Romaine,  84  Beaver  St., 
J.  B.  Roy,  (iL),  C,  31a  Produce  Exdiange, 
K  J.  Shriver,  S,  N.  Y.  Metal  Exchange, 
Rosa  W.  Weir,  105  Front  St., 
W.  A.  Whiting,  Grand  (Antral  Hotel, 
CUianu  BLCM,  (June  i,'8a>,  3a8W.6oth  at., 
Chaa.  K.  Alley  (lCS),  33  W.  a3d  St., 
H.  G.  Barnard,  9  Clinton  Place, 
W.  G.  Bates,  254  Madison  av., 
N.M.Beckwith,||(C,cxr,i.P),2i  W.  37th  St., 

VP.  m  [C.  June,  *8a,  to  March,'85 ;  lP. 

May,  '83.  to  May,  '86], 
CHias.  M.  Benedict,  94  Beekman  st, 

G.  R.  Bidwell,  (lr),  lcc,  ••315  W.  58th  st., 
Henry  Blake,  7  Beekman  st, 

W.  H.  Book,  P.  O.  Box  1147, 

Fred  G.  Bourne,  (VP),  as  W.  23d  st., 

Cta%.  F.  Bouton,  225  E.  6oth  st, 

Irving  P.  Boyd,  Produce  Ex.  Building, 

T.  McKee  Brown,  (P),  326  W.  4Sth  st., 

Wm.  A.  Bryant,  (2L),  la  Maiden  Lane, 

S.  H.  Byron,  Union  League  Club, 

J.  G.  Case,  S.  W.,  301  Sixth  av. 

Robert  Center,  18  W.  aist  st., 

Knight  L.  Clappf{  lk,  S,  380  Broadway, 

Fred  A.  C^oleman,  Windsor  Hotel, 

W.G.Conklin,Frank.  Sav.  BHc,  8  av.  &  43  at, 

Atherton  Cortis,  x6  W.  53d  St., 

J.  W.  Curtia,  1  E.  sjd  st, 

Frank  G.  Dubois,  51a  W.  30th  st, 

Gto.  E.  Dunlap,  aa8  E.  60th  St., 

Alfred  Eaton,  306  W.  39th  st, 

John  B.  Fischer,  339  W.  83d  at., 


J.  FiuGerald,  494  E.  133d  St., 

Simeon  Ford,  (F),  C,  Grand  Union  Hotel, 

J.  T.  Francis,  ao  E.  4i8t  st., 

Wm.  C  Frazee,  T,  156  Broadway, 

G.  Benedict  Frisbie,  43  South  st, 

J.  H.  Giffin,  jr.,  156  Broadway, 

Jamea  G.  Gulick,  371  W.  83d  st, 

John  C.  Gulick,  tut,  P.  132  Nassau  st, 

Hany  J.  Hall,  jr.,  61  W.  56th  st., 

Frank  h.  Handlen,  Produce  Ex.  Building, 

E.  A.  Hoffman,  jr.,  B,  426  W.  23d  st., 

W.  E.  Howell,  lao  Broadway, 

Geo.  Martin  Huss,  1385  Broadway, 

Fred  Jenkins,  (lCS),  45  W.  35th  st., 

A.  B.  Johnson,  4  Warren  St., 

J.  Q.  A.  Johnson,  4  Warren  st, 

Harry  S.  Jones,  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel, 

W.  B.  Krug,  No.  River  Savings  Bank, 

L.  E.  Lefferts,  6  W.  33d  st., 

Wm.  D.  Leonard,  3a  Naaaau  St., 

A.  W.  Loaier,  339  W.  46th  st, 

W.  H.  McCormack,  F,  336  W.  53d  st, 

J.  B.  Martine,  Naval  office, 

Elliott  Mason,**  13  Warren  st., 

Wm.  Allen  Miller,  805  Broadway, 

E.  A.  Morrison,  jr.,  893  Broadway, 
Chaa.  E.  Nichols,  (Mt.  Vernon,  N.  V.), 
John  Nightingale,  535  W.  83d  St., 

All.  E.  Paillard,  680  Broadway, 
(}eo.  A.  Paillard,  680  Broadway, 
Arthur  W.  Perego,  138-130  Fulton  st, 
Frank  J.  Pool,  TC,  (T),  3  Broad  st., 
Harwood  R.  Pool,  sL,  Produce  Exchange, 

F.  Austin  Roy,]|  165  W.  53d  st, 
M.  Schachtel,  jr.,  153  W.  i6th  st., 
James  Simpson,  436  W.  35th  st., 
S.  W.  Simpson,  436  W.  35th  St., 
A.  P.  Smith,  Tribttng  Office, 

T.  C.  Smith,  Cr,S),  iL,  lc,  40  Warren  st., 

T.  C.  Stratton,  310  W.  83d  st., 

Chas.  F.  Terhune,*  89  Liberty  st., 

A.  B.  Terry,  348  W.  34th  st., 

Fred  C.  Thomas,  3B,  26  E.  41st  st, 

Wm.  Fold  Upson,  X  59  Wall  st, 

Ckoige  A.  Wells,  1067  Madison  av., 

Wm.  Whiteside,  no  E.  36th  St., 

Geo.  T.  Wilson,  P.  O.  Box  555, 

John  S.  Wood,  X  39  Nassau  St., 

Wm.  B.  Wood,Y  Union  League  Qub, 

W.  J.  Vuengling,  128th  St.,  at  loth  av., 

(£.  A.  Bradford),       (M.  E.  Graves), 

(E.  A.  Dobbins),        (Edwin  Oliver), 

Chaa.  F.  Joy,  Arthur  £.  PaUison, 


774 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Albert  A.  Pope,  F.  Alcott  Pratt, 

Edward  W.  Pope,      H.  W.  WiUiama. 
The  four  in  parenthesb  resigned  from  the 
club  after  subscribing,  and  the  six  next  named 
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  Citiatns 
B  C.  is  86,  or  by  far  the  largest  on  my  list. 
Ixum  Bt.  CIm6,  (Mar.1,'82),  35xW.59th  st,, 
W.  A.  Anderson,  18  W.  9th  St., 
Frank  A.  Egan,  (uc,P),  351  W.  59th  sL, 
Thos.  Chalmers,  25  W.  17th  St., 
C.  M.  Everett,  P.  O.  Box  452, 
P.  M,  Harris,  (xL),  351  W.  jioth  st, 
W.  C.  Herring,  341  W.  58th  St., 
Rudolph  G.  Leypoldt,  S,  964  Sixth  av., 
O.  L.  Moses,  Cor.  S,  122  £.  4>st  St., 
W.  G.  Newman,  Niblo's  Garden, 
M.  G.  Paoli,  (VP),  C,  25  E.  74th  sL 
G.  B. Pearson, ( I L),  HomerLeeB»kNoteCo., 
Will  R.  Pitman,  (C),  351  W.  59th  st, 
C.  C.  Reed,  Jr.,  47  W.  9th  St., 
Fred  C.  Ringer,  1x2  £.  22d  st, 
G.  C.  Saffer,  (2L),  318  E.  a3d  st, 
Ben  G.  Sanford,  (S,  ls),  P.  O.  Box  4425, 
Francis  Thayer,  353  W.  22d  st, 
Walter  H.  P.  Vesey,  31  Nassau  st, 
Chas.  C.  Whedon,  85  E.  53d  st 
Harlem  *f"r«,(Nov.,'82),  104  W.  124th st, 

F.  L.  Bingham,  409  E.  143d  st., 
(Edgar  K.  Bourne,  309  E.  t24th  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.  xaSth  St., 
W.  D.  Edwards,  C,  144th  st ,  at  4th  av., 
£.  J.  Halstead,  iL,  705  Sixth  av., 
Geo.  A.  Hill,  149  E.  127th  St., 
P.  S.  Jones,  10  E.  126th  st., 
A.  A.  Rnowles,  166  W.  130th  St., 
Geo.  Lane,  jr.,  loa  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.  X24th  st., 
C.  M.  Phelps,  aL,  331  E.  124th  St., 
W.  C.  Phelps,  331  E.  i24ih  st, 

F.  A.  Phillips,  jr.,  220  E.  t24th  st, 
J.  W.  Powers,  jr.,  34  Mt.  Morris  av., 
A.  Ratichfnss,  F,  in  E.  77th  St., 

F.  A.  Ryer,  S,  336  £.  X24th  St., 


C.  P.  Sackett,  1406  Sixth  av., 
A.  Steiner,  48  £.  124th  st, 
Fred.  W.  Styles,  26a  W.  129th  st. 
Page  96  may  be  consulted  for  details  coa- 
ceming  the   four   clubs  whose    subscriiMi^ 
members  (26-^-864-19+26)  are  listed  above. 
The  following  117  subscribers  are  supposed 
to  be  outside  the  membership  of  those  dobs, 
but  the  names  of  some  of  them  will  be  found 
catalogued  again  with  the  dubs  at  Brooklyn, 
Harlem,  Jersey  City  and  elsewhere.     It  b  to 
be  noted  that  there  are  many  non^iders  on 
this  list,  and  that  many  of  the  addresses  need 
to  be  verified.    The  last  a6  names  are  alpha- 
betized senarately,  without  addresses: 
"*.  ^i.  Amory,  70  Reade  st.,  {JOdss.  B.  C.\ 
Grosvenor  Atterbury,  7  E.  33d  St., 
Lyman  H.  Bagg,  Washington  Square, 
Geo.  O.  Beach,  63  £.  xasth  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.  sSth  at.. 
Edward  T.  Birdsall,  107  E.  70th  st., 
Edward  A.  Bradford,$P,  Times  ofiice, 
Wm.  Bradford.^  55  Broadway, 
E.  J.  Braunsdorf,  223  W.  10th  St., 
H.  C.  Bunner,  Puck  Building, 
John  A.  Burchell,  1143  Park  av., 
J.  G.  D.  Burnett ,  rsSih  St.  ,betw.  3d  &  4th  ava. , 
T.  S,  Burr,  24  Thomas  st, 
E.A.Bush,prof.  fancy  bi.rider,(234  £.  35th), 
Geo.  M.  Buttle,  310  W.  32d  st, 
Carmansville  Park  Hoielf  iSSth  st. 
Central  Press  and  Pub.  Cn.,  12  Vesey  st., 
Wm.  C.  C]arke,o,  75  Maiden  Lane, 
G.W.&C.B.C:o]ton&Co.,*»  183  William  st . 
E.  V.  Connor,  129  W.  33d  St., 
Wm.  A.  Cbpp,  to,  206  Broadway, 
A.  F.  Currier,^o,  38  W.  36th  st, 
Frank  £.  Davidson,  610  Lexington  av., 
Harry  L.  De Forest,  7  Washington  Sq.,  N, 
Henry  W.  DeForest,to,  15  W.  30th  St., 
Lockwood  DeForest,  o,^  £.  17th  st, 
Johnston  DeForest,  7  Washington  Sq.,  N, 
Robert  W.  DeForest,  Jo,  120  Broadway, 
Wro.  H.  Demorest,  25  Catherine  slip, 
David  Dewitt,  82  Br'dway,  {H.  C.  U^Pku 
Allen  W.  £varts,to,  $2  WTaU  st, 
Herbert  Filmer,  318  Broadway, 
Joseph  R.  Folsom,*^,  751  ^txadway, 
Forest  ami  Stream  Pub.Co.,39,4oP'k  R*« 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


775 


H.  F.Fraaw,  6s  Chadiam  it,  {L.  /.  H^Pn\ 

Clurlea  W.  Gould,  %o,  2  Wall  »t.» 

W.  F.  Gollen,  37  Broadway,  {B'kl'H  B.C.), 

Wm.  C.  Gulliver^to,  lao  Broadway, 

Wm.  H.  Hall,  jr.,  6s  W.  56th  St., 

Reg.  Fairfax  Harrison,  11  Leacington  av., 

R.  S.  Haabrouck,  jr.,  91  Liberty  St., 

A.  Heming,  18  Cedar  St., 

S.  Henderson,  56  Worth  St.,  {Bed/.  C.C.), 

Ideal  Pen  Co.,**  155  Broadway, 

Fred.  D.  Ives,  53  White  at, 

Elliott  Johnson,HC,3X3  Br'dway,(^.C.  H"-.), 

Henry  £.  Jones,  29  E.  f7th  St., 

Charles  A.  Kinch,li  256  W.  54th  St., 

Moaes  King,o,  279-483  Broadway, 

Walter  Klots,  i6ad  St., 

W.  H.  L.  Lee,to,  30  Nassan  at, 

Leve  &  Alden,**  207  Broadway, 

Kugene  H.  Lewis,to,  iso  Broadway, 

W.  D.  Linu,  315  W.  4ad  St., 

W.  J.  McCreary,  801  Broadway, 

Howard  Mansfield,to,  15  Broaul  st, 

Wm.  C.  Marion,  136-130  Nassaa  st, 

Albert  Mathews,to,  31  Pine  at., 

Brander  Matthews.o,  lai  E.  i8th  st, 

Fiank  B.  Mirick,  jr.,  457  W.  43d  st, 

Thos.  E.  Moeasner,  107  Liberty  st., 

S.  H.MoneU,  2  Maiden  Lane,  (Z./.  }y*rH), 

Frank  C.  Moore,  59  W.  zsoth  st, 

C.  Muger,  jr.,  33  E.  37th  st, 

Geo.  Rayson  Newby,  347  W.  ssd  st. 

New  York  Toy  Co.,»»  14  Howard  st, 

Charles  Otis,  313  Greenwich  st.. 

Pope  Manufacturing  Co.,**  13  Warren  st., 

John  S.  Prince,  prof,  rider,  CUpptr  office, 

W.  Rogers,  107  Liberty  st, 

Wesley  B.  Salter,  314  E.  79th  st, 

Gordon  F.  Smith,  P.  O.  Box  3640, 

Geo.  Thad.  Stevens,  37  E.  3oth  st, 

L.  W.  P.  Stevens,  30  Warren  St., 

Dan  Sweetuy's  Saloon,  500  E.  133d  at., 

B.  C.  Unseld,  76  E.  9th  st., 
H.  A.  Van  Liew,  3x  E.  73d  st, 
L.  £.  Watennan,o,  155  Broadway, 
Perry  S.  Wataon,  530  W.  43d  St., 
Francis  H.  Weeks,to,  130  Broadway, 
White,  Stokes  &  Allen,**  193  Fifth  av., 
Chas.  E.  Whittemore,  579  Broadway, 
Julius  Wilcox,*  15  Park  Place,  . 

T-  E.  WUlson.o,  World  ofSuat, 

I.  O.  Woodru£f,o,  88  Maiden  Lane, 

W.  M.  Woodside,  prof,  rider,  Clifpor  cX&ot, 

Maaon  Yoong,to,  35  Wall  st. 


Geo.  F.  A]lison,o,       Monroe  Le  Vino, 
James  W.  Auten,       S.  S.  McCure, 
A.  W.  Baird,  (Crawford  Mason), 

E.  P.  Baird,  Fred.  Mead,  ir.,o, 

G.  D.  Baird,o,  J.  D.  Pugh,  jr., 

R.  B.  Baird,  H.  D.  Schoonmaker, 

Wm.  R.  Baird,to,      Chas.  J.  Solyom, 
W.  T.  Baird,  (Thomaa  Stevens), 

Leander  A.  Bevin,o,  Aaron  S.  Thonias,o, 
W.  F.  Coffee,  jr.,      (JwaatM  Watson,o), 
T.  G.  Condon,  Edw.  P.  Wilder,to, 

(Richard  Garvey),       Percy  Winter,  tc, 
A.  H.  Haywaid,        C.  C.  Woolworth. 

magwa  Falls:  (AT.  F.  B.  C,  Aug.  39,  *85), 
Neil  Campbell,  lc,C,  Geo.G.Shepard,  S-T. 

Norwood:  L.  L.  Ashley. 

Olean:  {O.  B.  C,  Aug.,  '83),  W.  H.  Butler. 

Oswego:  {O.  W.  C),  Fred  A.  Dixoo,  VP, 
(Geo.  F.  Allison,  o),  John  P.  Miller,  lc 

Otego:  S.  R.  Lewis. 

ParkviUe,  L.  L:  W.  F.  Gullen,  Wash'n  av. 

Peconlo:  Joe  C  Case. 

PeeksklU:  CorUandt  Whe*lmtn,Y ^h.22,'%2, 
A.  D.  Dunbar,  S-T,  S.  Norris  Knapp, 
D.CHasbrouck,  (C),lc,  S.  A.  Mead,  L, 
R.  S.  Hasbroudc,  jr.,  Henry  Tate. 
Edward  F.  Hill,  (lr.lcc),  lr,  (AT.  Y.B.C.\ 

Plattsburg:  Curtis  H.  Veeder. 

Port  Henry:  Wallace  T.  Foote,  jr. 

Port  Jervis:  {Delaware B.C.,  May  30,  '83), 
Delaware  HoUl,  by  J.  E.  Wickham, 
Clarendonian  ^0/r/,byEd.G.Gie8enheimer, 
Frank  Malvern,**      Edd  C.Wickham,(S). 

Portlsnd:  H.  M.  Fleming. 

Pougbkeepsie:  A riel  IVkeel Cha,Dec,*ii, 
J.  R.  Adriance,P,LR,  A.  N.  Shaffer,* 
C.F.Cx)8sum,S-T,TC,  Robt.  E.  Taylor,to. 
C.  B.  Herrick,to, 

fiandolph:  (B.  B.  C.\  D.  C.  Adams,  C, 
W.  W.Canfield,*(S),C,  W.L.  Rathbone,P. 

Richmond  Fill,  L.L:  Wm.  A.  Jones,  a 

RWerhead,  L.L:  A.  O.  Downs,  f* 

Bochelle  (New):  Charles  F.  C:anHy,to, 
N.  P.  Tyler,  ITtc,  (lcc),  l  ha'  dicapper. 

Rochester:  (B.  B.  C,  Feb.  f,  '80), 
Phil  A.  Clum,  J.  G  Lenox, 

W.  J.  Curtice,  C,       Ge.ffge  E.  Maier, 

E.  R.  Freatman,         J<icob  Oetlinger, 

F.  B.  Graves,  (T),tc,  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.  Turpm. 
RoeUand  Lake:  A.  L.  Wilson.t 


776 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


8:ti?.AC.,Jan.  29,  '84),  J.  M.  Barton  • 
G.  Harry  Chase,         F.  B.  Hodges, 
Chas.  D.  Hildreth,  H.J.Rowlaixl,u:,S.T. 

Swatoga:  \S,B.C.,}vx.  39>'8o)fA.  C.  Ricfa.|| 

Sehsneotady:  (^.  B.  C,  Nov.  13,  '83), 
Carlty  Houst,  by  L.  Sickler, 
Jacob  W.Clute,tC,LR,  Sam.  R.  James, 
Ed.  Lk  Davis,  lc,       P.  E.  Kipp,  In. 

SebeneTnS:  Ralph  D.  Webster. 

Sobnylerville:  SckMyltrvUU  House, 
Wm.  McLindon,o,     E.  S.  Tabor. 

Benoea  Falls:  H.  J.  Emmett. 

Shflxman:  Eugene  Card,*  Edmn  Rip!ey,LC 

Silver  Creek:  Mam  Street  /fonse,i¥ifa^t*t) 
A.  Wilson  Dod8,ir      O.  A.  FairchUd. 

Sinelairville:  W.  J.  Dunihuis,  H.  C  Sloan. 

Stillwater:  Ensign Hotue,\rfT.  S.  Ensign. 

BtOOkport:  {Columbia  lV*Pn,  June  i9»'83), 
J.  Reynolds,  lc,  P,  R.  B.  Reynolds,  S. 
Mrs.  Josh.  Reynolds,  {Hudson  B.  C,  '8a.) 

Snffeni:  Eureka  House,  by  R.  RiggB> 

Syracuae:  {S.  B.  C,  Feb.  8,  '81), 
C.  W.  Bardeen,(P),    H.  H.  Ragan,o, 
William  Gardner,       T.  K.  Wilkinson, 
Fred  H.  Johnson,       L.  S.  Wilson,  C 

Tarrytown:  Dmk-m/ /^«9Mjtf,by  Z. Carpenter. 

Troy:  {T.  B.  C.  and  Trojan  tV^Pn), 
G.R.Collins,(C),VP,  J.  E.  Miller,  2L, 
A.  P.  Dunn,  iL,         John  W.  Saze, 
Fred  P.  Edraans,*      H.  N.  Strait,  N, 
W.  Gardner,  jr.,         T.  B.  Way,  P, 
Wm.L.Gardner,TC,F,Chas.  E.  Wilson,  T. 

Tuokahoe:  Irving  Vermilya. 

Utloa:  (J!'ortScJkttyierirJkeelmen,Jwat,*Zi), 
Bang's  Hotel,  by  T.  R.  Procter, 
Geo.  H.  Bidwell,  (S),  J.  B.  Griflkhs. 

Van  HomesTllle:  Earl  A.  Mixer. 

Verplank's  Point:  Henry  Tate. 

Walden:  {W,B.C.\  Sumner  BuU,«  S-T, 
Wm.  L.  Dickinson,    F.  £.  Libenow, 
W.H.  Faalkner,tP,  C.  W.  SadUer,  C, 
L.  W.  Jansen,  Erwin  Tears. 

Waiipinger's Falls:  {W.W,  C,  Jan.a,>&4), 
Harry  H.  Brown,  P,  C,  lc, 
Walter  L.  Monfort,    Daniel  Walker. 

WatUlw:  {The  Glen  Cyclers,  June,  '85), 
John  M.  Thompson,}  C 

Watertown:  Saml.  F.Bagg,o,G.C. Sherman. 

Weedsport:  WeedsportB.  C,  Dec  16,  '84, 
H.D.Brown,P,  lr,  J.R.Rheubottom,)r.,C. 

Weat  Brighton,  B.  I.:  Augustus  R.  Butler. 

Westmoreland:  N.  DeRoy  Lee. 

Whitehall:  J.  Dana  Culver. 


Get^Home,byW.n.l>otw, 

t  House,         D.  B.  Lewis. 
NEW  JERSEY. 
Beverly:  R.  C  daiksoo,  lc 
Bloomfield:  John  V.  L.  Pierwm. 
Bordaotown:  {OmlB.  C,  July  10,  '8a), 

C.  FrankUn  Adams,    F.  G.  Vllie»t,—iZ,  uc^ 
Phil.F.H.Brakeley,iL,H.  Benson  Wieae, 
Wilson  Cutter,  Louis  W.  Wieae. 

Bonnd  Brook:  W.  B.  Thompson,  lc 

Brick  Chnrch:  C.  Creagh,  John  Durrie. 

Caldwell:  CaidweU House,  by  A.  A.  Snyder. 

Camden:  {Camden  B.  C,  1881), 
G.  R.  Brown,  S,         Geo.  W.  Hosted. 
G.  N.  Busby,P,  ut,   C.  L.  Leiaen, 
Jas.  B.  Dowling,       B.  O.  MOler,  iXL 

Chatham:  {Aiorris  IVauderers,  June,  "Bs), 
Edw.  Littlejohn,  C,    Jos.  C  Minloo^lO. 

Cinnaminsom:  Benj.  LippmootL 

East  Long  Branoh:  Wm.  W.  Silkworth. 

Bast  Orange:  {O,  Wanderers,  Nov.  i  t.'So). 
H.C.Douglas,(C,P),L«,  L.H.Johnaon,«« 
W.  W.  Geery,  L.H.Porter,(Cy^P,TC. 

Slisiibeth:  {E.  If^Pn,  ^  June  7,*83.  Head- 
quarters,  116  Broad  St.),  Frank  Bergen^t^ 

D.  Blake  Bonnett,     J.  S.  Hcndenoo, 
L.B.Bonnett,(F),aL,M.  H.J 
G.  C  Brown,||LOC,  P,  Cbaa.A.  Ho 
A.  S.  Crane,  T,  Geo.  J.  Martin,  C, 
Samuel  C.  Crane,       P.  T.  NortoD, 

P.  Kenney  Dilks, 

Harry  Floy, 

WOIiam  E.  Gibbs, 

C.H.K.Halsey,VP, 

M.  W.  Halsey, 

W.  H.  Hastings,  (P),R.  W.  Woodiiani.P. 

GreenTiUe:  A.  H.  Hayward. 

Hackensaok;  {H.  B.  C,  Mar.  i7,'8a), 
C.  J.  Wood. 

Haekettstown:  J.  Madison  Porter. 

Haddonfield:  Wm.  Pittenger.t 

Hohoken:  G.  Boehm,  37  Hodaon  St., 
C.  £.  KrOh,  H.W.Sagendorf^uc, 

J.  V.  L.  Pienon,         Frank  T.  Welter. 

Jersey  City:  {Hudson  County  U^fn), 
£.  P.  Baggot,  H.  M.  Piatt, 

A.  P.  Bennett,  S.  G.  Putnam, 

Thos.Chamberlaia,jr.,H.W.  Sagendorf,  iL» 
David  D.ewitt,  Eugene  M.  Smith, 

E.W.Johnson,RC,LR,  W.  P.  Smith,  lc, 
Chas.  E.  Kluge,         V.  B.  Tulane, 
Lewis  F.  Lyne,        (N.P.Tyler,t(ur),Tc)^ 
Geo.  J.  Pforr,  H.  W.  Wisfield^ 


G.  C.  Pennell,  S, 
A.  K.  Prince, 
A.  S.  Roortiaich,  B, 
T.  B.  Rasnm, 
J.CWetmore,  (S-T\ 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


Ill 


Henry  P.  Warren,a 


Alfred  Beniamin,       William  Comly. 

Madlion:  C.  H.  Genung. 

KUlvilto:  iM.  B.C.  Nov.  so/83,  lee  p.  530), 
J.  A.  Bolasd  Jut,      T.  B.  Somen,  lc^C, 
W.  Soott  Calkins,        C  S.  SteTens, 
Lewis  Howell,  £.  Vanaman,  aL. 

Herachel  Muliord,  P, 

Montolatr:  {M.  ^/•*.,Jane,'83),Plia.  Young, 
S.  J.  Holmes,  Ross  W.  Weir,  C, 

R.G. Hutchinson,  jr.,  A.  J.  Wright,|  S-T, 

Koorostowii:  J.  h.  Moore,  lc, 
Wm.  J.  Morrison,  ls,  F.  C  Stokes,  tc. 

MOnrlitOWll:  (MorrislVatuiirtrs,  May, '83), 
Mansion  House,  by  B.  C.  Guerin, 
Park  Houst^t^  by  Stephen  W.  Luse, 
Ira  Ayer,  (Jos.  C.Minton,(Q,), 

Geo.  W.  Collis,  P,       W.  S.  Mulfoid, 
G.  P.  Farley,  J.  F.  Runyon,  (L), 

C  H.  Genung,  Truman  H.  Scott, 

C  T.  Halstead,  L»     S.  Staples, 

C.  S.  Leddell,  G.  K  Voorhees,  jr.  ,lc, 
(Edw.  Littlejohn,  Q,  James  D.  Voorhees. 

Kt  Holly:  G.  A.  LippincotL 

Newwk:  Gm/m>/^0^/,  L,opp.  D.  L.&W., 

New  Jersey  tTtn,  (Oct.,'83),  Oraton  Hall, 

J.  £.  Baker,  748  Broad  St., 

P.  H.  Brangs,  3a  Rowland  st, 

D.  E.  Drake,  VP,  15  Mt  Pleasant  sr., 
John  S.  Duston,  (VP),  60  Fifth  av., 

T.  E.  Gay,  B,  397  New  St., 

F.  W.  Goodsell,  114  Commerce  st, 
Arthur  R.  Grow,  (Summit,  N.  J.), 
Ang^t  Hahne,  649  Broad  st, 
Thomas  W.  Jackson,  11  Myrtle  av., 
Qift  W.  Jones,  (3L),  375  Broad  st., 
Frank  J.  Keer,  sL,  Broadway, 

A.  O.  Lemeris,  iL,  880  Broad  st., 
John  Lindner,  jr.,  149  S.  Orange  av., 
Hiram  £.  Littell,  P,  460  Broad  st., 
C.  B.  Longenecker,  389  Washington  at, 
Howard  Miller,  48  Webster  St., 
C.  W.  Northrop,  (iL,  F),  VP,  35  Cedar  St., 
W.  H.  Parsons,  P,  lr,  119  Belleville  av., 
Howard  A.  Smith,**  494  Broad  St., 
Louis  N.  Spinning,  (S),  (Summit,  N.  J.), 
T.  E.  Theberath,  Qifton  and  Fifth  avs., 
Wm.  H.  Westwood,  4a  Eighth  av., 
J.  C.  Willever,  S,  494  Broad  St., 

G.  P.  Williams,  C,  390  Washington  av., 
Harry  J.  Thurber,  149  Fourth  st., 

C.  R.  Zacharias,  (C),**  494  Broad  st. 


The  Essex  B,  C.  (Mar.  8,  '79)  dahns  the 
following  13,  and  the  rest  are  not  members  of 
either  dub,  though  one  or  two  belong  to  the 
Aiaianta  H^Pn,  (org.  Mar.  ii,'86): 

E.  D.  Famsworth,     Charles  Pharo, 
Arthur  L.  Genuqg,     S.  H.  Saigeant,  iL, 
WiU  S.  Johnson,         Nate  B.  Seaver, 
John  B.  Lunger,         G.  Cifford  Smillie, 
Robert  D.  Mead,(C),  Wm.  B.  Southard, 
J.  R.  Meeker,  G.  Burton  Tayk>r, 

F.  Adams,  784  Broad  st, 

Wm.  W.  Bingham,  a  13  S.  Sixth  st, 
Wm.  E.  Blenett,  jr.,  186  Washington  av., 
A.  W.  Bourn, t  67  Sherman  av., 
Wilbur  F.  Coddington,  34 Taylor  st,  S-T, 
John  J.  Daly,  593  Broad  st., 
C  Dennison,  107  Padfic  st, 
S.  C.  Doland,  140  Union  st, 
James  P.  Downs,  N.  Seventh  st, 
Samuel  W.  Geery,  769  Broad  St., 

A.  H.  Hayes,  35  Walnut  st, 

E.  D.  Harrington,  153  Orange  St., 
Schuyler  B.  JackBon,to,  756  Broad  st, 
Samuel  J.  Macdonald,  75  Liberty  st., 
N.  T.  Slee,  Oraton  Hall,  494  Broad, 
Howard  A.  Smith  ft  Co.,**OratonHaIl, 

B.  S.  Whitehead,  94  Market  st. 

New  Bnmtwlck:  {B.  B.  C,  May  i9,'8z),l, 
Frank  H.  Cook,         J.  French  Soott,  n, 
A.Wakeman  Soott,N,  C.D.Snedecker,(LT> 

Newton:  C.  L.  Moffett,  Isaac  D.  Reed. 

Newfoondland:  Brewn*s  HaUL 

Onuige:  (a  Wanderers,  Nov.  ii,  '80X 
Mansion  Heme,  F.  B.  Hallett,  lc, 

R.  H.  Atwater,  o,      J.  W.  Smith,  (C), 
William  Beach,  J.  W.  Snow, 

H.  A.  Smith  &  Co.,**opp.Mannon  House. 

Orsage  Velley:  Harry  Seymour  Bamea. 

Peanio:  J.  D.  Pugh,  H.  L.  Simpson. 

Pfttenon:  {jEoIms  W.  C),W.  F.Begg8,S-T, 
John  T.  Browne,         John  Harwood,  jr., 
Chas.  D.  Cooke,  C,    Reuben  Ryle. 

Pemberton:  Ernest  H.  Diver. 

Perth  Amboy:  {Perth  Amboy  Cyclers), 
E.  W.  Barnes,  TC,P,  E.  E.  Hartshorn,  C. 

Plalnfleld:  (/>.  B.  C),  D.  C.  Adams, 
Robt  W.  Anderson, n  A.  L.  C.  Marsh, 
Geo.  Stuart  Collins,    Robinson  Pound,(S), 
J.  A.  Demarest,         D.  M.  Runyon, 
Oaric  W.  Evans,        Harold  Serrell,  ls, 
D.  J.  Gordon,  E.  J.  Waring,  tc 

Prineeton:  {Princeton  College  B.  C,  1880X 
Thomas  Chahnera,  (N.  Y.  Qty). 


778 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


BahWfty:  {JOonmautk  CoutOy  W^r^i, 
£.  L.  Brown,  A.H.Chamberiaui,ix. 

Bed  Bank:  {Monmoyth  Cotmiy  WPn), 
J.  B.  Bergen,  G.F.Marsden,^(P,LcX 

S.A.Lockwood,§LC,C,W.  B.  Mount 

Bidgefleld:  Robert  Qarke,  W.  C.  Clarke,  o. 

Boselle:  {R&seiU  Ramblers^  1885), 
C.  H.  Jouct,  R.  L.  Stewart,  C. 

Butherford:  (/'««t/VCtf.»^V«,  Nov.  15/83), 
£.  A.  Edgar,  T,         C.  L.  Jackson,  S, 
G.T.  Hollister,  H.R.Jackson,jr.,(C),L,LC 

Seabright:  Johnston  DeForest,  (N.Y.City). 

Shrewsbury:  M.  Bell,  W.  M.  Vanschoick. 

BmithTlUe:  The  H.  B.  Smith  Mach.  Co.,** 

E.  F.  Bums,  LC,         Wm.  S.  Kelley, 
K  H.  Burtis,  A.  B.  King, 

C.  H.  Chickering,       G.  A.  Lippincott, 
Chas.  F.  Fraxier,        Joe  Powell, 
A.  M.  Hall,  H.  B.  Smith, 

C.  W.  Higgins,  B.  W.  Storey. 

Bomerville:  Cffunfy  ffoM.by  Austin  Moore. 

Summit:  {New  Jersey  l^Tn,  Newark), 
Arthur  R.  Grow,         L.  N.  Spinning, 
J.  Franklin  Haas,       A.  J.  Youngs. 

Trenton:  (T.  B.  C,  Mar.  15,  '80), 
Trenton  House,  by  P.  Katzentack, 
S.  P.  Camp,  S,  W.  P.  Pray  .(Bristol), 

W.  M.  Crozer,  F.,  B.S.Rose,LC,VP,iL, 
W.G.  McCullough,*PLRt  John  Whitehead, 
Hon-ard  B.  Moses,      R.V.  Whitehead,  B. 

Upper  Montclair:  Philip  Young. 

Washington: 
St.  Cloud  HoUi,  by  C.  F.  Staates. 

Westfleld:  {Betierapkon  tVPn,  Dec.  3,'85), 
John  Carberry,  F,       John  W.  Nichols, 
Arthur  B.  Irving,        Arthur  N.Pierson,C, 
F.A.Kinch,jr.,1|P,TC,H.  Richardson,  k. 

F.  S.  Miller,  S-T, 

West  Long  Branch:  J.  W.  Curtis,  (N.Y.) 
West  Orange:  LiexveUyn  Park  Hotel. 
Woodstown:  (A  C,  '83)  E.  S.  Fogg,t  (lr). 

PENNSYLVANIA. 
Academy:  Gen.  Wayne  Hotel,  by  J.  Baiid. 
Allegheny  City:  W.Duncan,  S.A.Saxman. 
Allentown:  Am.  Hotel,  by  H.  A.  Haydeo, 

Frank  S.  Dobbins, t  607  Chew  st. 
Ashland:  C.  O.  Burkett,  J.  W.  Huber. 
Altoona:  Logan  House,  by  W.  R.  Dunham, 

Chas.  B.  Dudley,o,    Robert  M.  Riddle, 

H.  E.  Stover,  as  12  Broad  st. 
Ardmore:  Ardmore  House,  Red  Lion  Hotel, 

T.  H.  Boyd,  W.  C.  McCUntock,} 


R.  G.  Smith,  S.  F.  Stadelnuii,! 

Frank  M.  Spohn,       W.A.Stadehnan,  ix 

Beaver  Falls:  {B.VaUeyH^rn,  May  7.*8s), 
A.  B.  Chalfant,  WUl.  H.  Le^,  P, 

J.  M.  Critchlow,        Thomas  Midgley,  C, 
S.  H.  Dawson,  S,       J.  £.  Wickersham, 
W.  H.  Hubbard,       Geo.  WhysaU. 

Bedford:  Bedford  House,  by  John  Hafer, 
D.  C.  Bums,  Harry  Gilchrist. 

Beech  Cliff:  Frank  W.  Smith. 

Berwick:  L.  M.  Kumler.t 

Bethlehem:  (.Alpha  W.  C,  Mar.  16,  *93X 
J.  S.  Dodson,  P,        C.  T.  Smith.  S, 
C.  C.  KnansB,C,  lc,  Edw.H. Williams,  jr., 
Frank  J.  Leibert,       W.S.Wintenteen,  B 

Blossburg:  £.  L.  RusselL 

Bristol:  Bristol  Library^ 
W.  M.  Downing,  jr.,  Geo.  A.  Shoemaker, 
W.  P.  Pray,  lc,  John  T.  Thorn, 

G.  Schieser,  jr.,  Wm.  S.  Wright. 

BrookTllle:  J.  B.  McRnight 

Brownsville:  Bar  House,  l,  by  Eli  Bar. 

Canton:  (C.  W.  C),     E.  L.  Davenport, 
H.  B.  Davenport,TC,  J.  Ernest  NewnaiiL 

Carpenters:  F.  Grant  Sweet. 

Chamhersburg:  (C.  W.  C.\ 
National  Hotel,  by  E.  L.  Wesley, 
Geo.  S.  Hull,  H  P,     W.  G.  Nixon,  C** 

Chester:  Joseph  H.  Walley. 

Clarion:  ijC.B.C.),  A.  Kaufman,  C  V.  Reid. 

Clearfield:  (C  B.  C),  Leonard  Homee^ 
Hotel  IVindsor,  L,  J.  B.  Kennaid, 
H.  B.  Fulford,  W.  M.  McKnight, 

W.M.Gearhart,VP,iL,  AIL  F.  Martin, 
J.E.Harder,*P,C,LR,  Curtin  Nivling,  S, 
J.  B.  Highberger,  n,  Edgar  C.Shaw,T,aI. 

CoaJ  Dale:  Jona.  Evans,  Wm.  T.  Jones, 
T.  C.  Lausford,  £.  G.  Zem. 

Columbia:  (C.  H^Pn),  Franklin  House, 
Wm.  P.  Evans,tN,     Bruner  Kauffman, 
Chas.  L.  Filbert,        John  S.  Mosser,  C, 
Elmer  L.  Formalt,L,  A.  W.  Rogers,OP, 
John  S.  Glover,  Chas.  Sourbeer. 

Corry:  St.  James  HoUl,u 
G.  H.  Barlow,  Fred  G.  King,  lc 

S.  J.  Franklin, 

CurwinsviUe:  Draucher  House, 
Park  House,  L,  by  W.  F.  EckerL 

Danville:  John  G.  Brown, 
W.  Dosh.  HoUoway,  Wm.  Sidney  Ramsey. 

Devon:  Devon  Inn,  by  H.J.  &  G.R. Cramp. 

Doylestown:  Henry  Lear,to. 

Easton:  C/.^.A^9ite/,  by  Kenhaw  &  Bmdon. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


779 


jnoxlli:  H.  G.  ReiftL 
Oemumtown:  (for  <?.  B.C.,  aee  "  Phila.") 
M.  C.  Morris,  DiUwyn  Wi8tar,(i.T). 

OettSTBburg:  EagUHoUl,  by  H.  YingUog, 

L.  M.  Buehler.S         (X.  B.  Seigle). 
Oirard:  Dan  Rice,  jr. 
Olenfield:  E.  D.  Smith,  (Pittsbuig). 
Oreenabuzi:  £.Bick,  J.V.  Stepheiison,*LR. 
Oreenville:  i^VkUr  B,  C,  Nov.  14,  '82), 
Charles  Bick,  V.  C.  Place, 

Ralph  Bowers,  C.  A.  Rouse, 

C.  M.  Brown,  C.  B.  Shrom,  tc, 

W.  R.  Field,  C,         A.  G.  Thaliroer. 
Sarrlslmrg:  f^HarrUlmre  CycUug  Club\ 
Herbert  L.  Brown, B,  W.  H.  Middleton, 
J.  Wilson  Forney,      J.  Hervey  Patton,* 
Geo.A.Gorgas,§S-T,  Jas.  W.  Roberts,  L, 
John  Gastrock,  C.H. Small,  LC,  TcP, 

Walker  J.  Jones,        Alex.  C.  gjimm, 

Haverford  College  P.  0.:  Alfred  Chase. 

Hawley:  Key  statu  House,  by  Julius  Scott. 

Haaaeton:  J.  A.  Chase,  W.  U.  Ueru.O 

Homeetead:  C.  H.  Alter. 

HuntlzigdOB:  (£.COct.,'84),£.  R.Heyser, 
C.  Herbert  Milicr,C,  Frederick  Snare,  P. 

IzuliaDa:  A  merican  House,  by  M.  Earbart. 

Irwin:  Will  Coughenour, 

Wilbur  M.  Fulton,LC,  John  Long, 

R.  E.  Humphreys,     Frank  Magill, 

W.  H.  Johnston,        C.Meerhoff,  (mayor). 

Jenkintown:  Joseph  W.  Griscom.  , 

'Jersey  Shore:  Fred  H.  Freeborn,  lc 

flv^nstown:  {Mmniain  B.  C,  May  8,  '8t), 
J.  M.  Murdock,  H.D.WiUiams. 

Kennett  Square:  George  M.  Gregg. 

LancMter:  (Z..  B.  C,  Dec.  7,  '8()> 
E.  P.  Day,||(L')>  P>     S.  H.  Obreiter, 
S.  B.  Downey,  VP,    Ch£s  E.  Rahter, 
J.  R.  Foster,  Martin  R»idy,*»(C), 

M.  T.  Garvin,  D.  Sherman  C'^tith, 

W.  F.  Gorrecht,  B,    Sylvanus  Stall,tN.t.it, 
C.  E.  Haberbush,LR,(  W.  B.  Youngman,S-T). 

LandlSTlUe:  D.  B.  Landis,  lc.  ed.  K/^i/. 

Latrobe:  Parker  House,  i,,  by  Cyrus  Walton. 

Lebanon:  {.Lebanon  Wheelmen,  1884), 
John  H.  Cilley,  P,      Sterling  G.Valentine. 

Lock  Haven:  B.  F.  Brown. 

Manifleld:  {M.  Ramiiers,  Aug.  aS,  '84), 
C.  M.  Adams,  S,        O.  £.  Dewey, 
Will  H.  Capell,  Chas.  M.  Oloey. 

James  Cockburn,  lc. 

Kaneh  Chunk:  {M.  C.  B.  C,  Dec  i,  '83), 
Ira  G.  Ro«8,S>T,ijc,  Richard  S.  Ruddle. 


SCeadville:  S.  S.  Ungood. 
Mercer:  W.  H.  Harriaoa. 
Mechanlcsbarg:  C.  M.  Niegley. 
Milford:  Robert  M.  Aylsworth.t 
MlllersvUle:  Howard  E.  Randall. 
Montrose:  Montrose  Bi.  Chti,  {OcX.  17, '83), 
Mt.  Pleaunt^  Westmoreland  Co.: 

E.  £.  Critchfield,        F.  W.  Reynolds. 
Myexitown:  iKoinrr  ^<mf#,byC.R.Donoi]gh. 
Nasareth:  Harry  £.  Oewell. 

New  Caatle:  H.  Warren  Terry,  lc. 

NorrUtown:  {H.  B.  C,  Dec,  '83),  l, 
W.  Wallace  Acker,C,  Theo.  E.  Taylor, 
H.  M.  Ebert,  (S),  B,  Elwood  J.  Waroer, 
A.  B.  Parker,  Harry  P.  Weaver, 

W.H.Richardson,  T,  Jos.  H.  Weeks. 

Orwlgabuxg:  H.  S.  Albright 

Penfleld:  PenfUldHoUl,  by  J.  S.  Schofield. 

Philadelphia:  Colonnade  Hotel  (Crumpe')* 
Hotel  Lafayette,  by  L.  U.  Maltby, 

Pkiladelphia  BLClub,  l,  (May  as, '79),  house 
at  cor.  of  36th  and  Perot  sts., 
S.  Eldred  Gilbert,  1337  Arch  sL, 
H.  B.  Hart,*»8ii  Arch  St., 
H.  P.  Kelly,  132  S.  3d  St., 
Harold  R.  Lewis,  (B),  lk,  115  N.  adsL, 
G.  N.  Osbome,LR,  115  N.  sd  St., 
Melmoth  M.  Osborne,  1035  Arch  St., 

F.  C.  Stokes,  (Moorestown,  N.  J.), 
Joseph  H.  Taylor,  1924  Green  St., 
Chas.  B.  Warder,  xaia  N.  Broad  st. 

Gennantown  Bi.  Club,  (Sept.  5,  '79),  l, 
rooms  at  3314  Fairmount  av., 
John  A.  Beck,  1331  Race  St., 
Geo.  F.  Craven,  1440  N,  7th  St., 
John  P.  Curran,  jr.,  1451  N.  14th  St., 
Geo.  B.  Darby,  331  Arch  St., 
Geo.  D.  Gideon,*S,  (lr),  6  S.  Broad  st, 
Harold  E.  Gillingham,  466/  .vnox  st, 
Chas.  R.  Harley,  jr.,  333  It.  soth  st, 
Frank  S.  Harris,  C,tcc,  718  Arch  st, 
Geo.  S.  Iredell,  337  Chestnut  st, 
J.  V/.  Nicholson,  P,  410  Race  st., 
Westcotk  Vorman,  Chestnut  and  lath  sts., 
Ahr.  Powell,  1539  Race  st, 
W.  West  Randall, 

Frank  Read,  VP,lk,  400  Chestnut  st, 
H.  Taylor  Rogers,  1015  Vine  st, 
John  F.  Simons,  3x05  Venango  st, 
L.  Logan  Smith,  4653  Main  st, 
H.  S.  Wood,  lc,  310  Chestnut  st, 
Chas.  G.  Wright,  xosS  New  Market  st, 
T.  Houard  Wright,  ls,  asa  Wahiut  st 


780 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


PtMM^hfoma    BL   CbA,   (Aug.  3,  '8a),  L, 
dub-house  at  4i8t  st  and  Elm  av., 
Eugene  M.  Aaron,  lS-E,lcc,  39  S.  4th  tt., 
Jas.  Leslie  Alvord,  435  Chestnut  st, 
Fred.  A.  Brown,  (T),  2346  St.  Albans  PL, 
S.  W.  Cheyney,  S,  654  N.  43d  »t-f 
Isaac  £lwell,t  (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  St., 
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.  MUler,  (C),  1600  Hamilton  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.  Stadelman,  lc,  (Ardmore  SUtion), 
Chas.  D.  Williams,  <P),  lr,  222  S.  nth  st., 
H.  B.  Worrell,  lr,(VP),  560  N.  17th  st 
For  early  history  of  the  three  clubs  above 
catalogued  (10+21-1-33),  *^  H.  B.  Hart's  il- 
lustrated sketch  in  the  Whtelman  (July,  '83, 
pp.  2S7-26s).    The  following  40  are  presumed 
to  be  unattached  riders,  though  there  are  a 
half-dozen    lesser  clubs  in  Philadelphia  to 
which  some  of  them  may  belong: 
J.  Howe  AdamSjLR,  1901  Chestnut  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., 
Geo.  R.  Brown,  Front  and  Market  sts., 
G.  B.  Bryan,  36  N.  4th  st, 
G.  N.  Buzby,  lr,  517  Market  st, 
F.  D.  Canfield,  Mt  Airy  av., 
Fred  A.  CoWin,  3906  Fairmount  av., 
N.  F.  Creasman,  Chestnut  Hill, 
H.  J.  &  G.  R.  Crump,  Celmmade  HoUl, 
J.  S.  Durham,  Univ.  of  Penn.,  ed.  Ma^a.^ 
Edward  H.  Harding,  28  N.  6th  St., 
Jas.  Alvord  Gale,  6  Chestnut  st., 
John  H.  Geil,t  30  N.  5th  st, 
Henry  M.  Goodwin,  1119  N.  A^^  ^-t 
Russell  H.Gunnis,n.w.cor.ai8t&  Chestnut, 
Thomas  Hare,  2045  N.  13th  st, 
£.  Stanley  Hart  &  Co.,<**  331  Chestnnt  St., 
Henry  Humphreys,  13 15  Mt  Vernon  st, 
J.  W.  Johnson,  3600  Market  St., 


L.  S.  Ken,  415  N.  3d  at, 
C.  L.  Leisen,  Putnam  and  Ma 
L.  U.  MaItby,o,  HaUl  LMfe^fetU^ 
WoL  E.  Mellor,  3030  N.  nth  sL, 
Benj.  M.  Norman,  831  Ardi  at., 
Albert  A.  Norris,  1525  S.  Broad  st.. 
W.  B.  Page,  a8i  S.  Fourth  st, 
L.  C  Perkins,  1818  £.  Lehigh  ac» 
Chaa.  J.  Pining,  34x3  Sansom  A.^ 
Wm.  H.  Roberts,  137  Catherine  st., 
J.  Henry  Shaipe,  4006  Pine  st., 
Horace  £.  Smith,  1313  Wahint  st., 
H.  Sturdevant,  Wissahickon  Station, 
Henry  Troth,  150  N.  aoCh  st, 
Frederick  Trotter,  255  S.  3d  st, 
Harry  B.  Vincent,t  4087  Locust  St., 
Charles  E.  Yerkes,  1535  Girard  av., 

FlttBlnirg:  (Keystme  B.  C,  Dec  14.  '79). 
O.  H.  AUerton,  jr.,     Panl  S.  Johnstm, 
H.E.Bidwen,LR,C,     G.  A.  Lyon,  (P), 
Harvey  Chi]d8,o,       J.W.McGowin, 
C.M.Clarke,xx:,P,(S-T),  R.  T.  SbantkOB, 
J.  F.  Cowan,  E.  D.  Smith. 

J.  E.  Normecutt  &  Co.,*»  94  Fifth  mw., 
Pittsburg  Fire  Arms  Co.** 

Pottstown:  (/>.^.C,Ang.i,'&4)J.C.Ki]«ler. 

PottSTiUe:  A.  L.  PhUUpa. 

Ponxintewney:  St.Ehmaffpiti,hf^V.OnL 

Beading:  {R.  B.  C),  J.  Arthur  Curtis, 
WiU  S.  Dotter,(B),    Sanrad  E.  Slegel, 
W.  R.  Fichthom,       H.  K.  Whitner.S.La, 
J.L.Henreitier,(S),W.I.WiIhetaB,Lcv(P,C), 
Howard  W.  Potter,    Chas.  G.  Wilhoo. 

Bidffway:  W.  L.  WUliams,  ^vc 

Sftyre:  Percy  L.  Sinclair. 

Seott  HAT«a:  Ed.  W.  Cole. 

Benni€ia:{S.  B.C.,  Jun.  3o,'8i),  Fiuvtt  //»., 
ScrtmioH  Buycle  C/iw5,t,  lai  Wjpoauiig  a^., 
C.  C.  Conklin,  J.W.  Pentecost^VP), 

W.  L.  Connell,  Frank  Philfip, 

B.P. Connolly ,(F),iL,J6hn  F.  Roe,  jr., 
L.  H.  Gibbs,ir       G.Sandei3on,ir. .(P,loc)l 
Fred  C.  Hand,  lc,     H.  P.  Simpson,  F, 
A.  J.  Kdlp,*  C,  J.  A.  Spencer,  iL, 

R.  M.  La  Touche,      John  J.  Van  N<nt,S, 
Geo.  L.  Mayer,  C,     H.  C.  Wallace, 
J.  A.  Mott.  Frank  D.  Watts,  T. 

Bewlekley:  Seward  H.  Munay. 

South  Bethlehem:  {Ltki^  Unio.  B.  C.\ 
Charies  L.  Flack,  C  H.  Veeder,  (uc). 
H.  G.  Reist, 

BnaquehiiTina:  {JS.  B.  C,  i88t), 
T.A.Hayward,LC,    F.A.MtDer.ed.TVww. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


781 


TttWVfUa:  (7*.  B.  C),  H9UI  Brmumkk,  l, 
E.  H.  Ames,  P,lc,    A.  Manddl, 
C  W.  Burtis,  S,         A.  B.  Oltman, 
C  G.  Carter,  E.  T.  Roberts, 

E.  a  Lulkio,  R.  C  Selden,  C. 

TowindA:  WardHmue,  S.  M.Woodburn.t 

tXnlontOWn:  McdtUand  Hcusg;u 

Waihington:  J.  M.  Maurer.T 

W»yilMl)OrO:  Natumal  ^«i^/ (Whaler's), 
OaytoD  Philips,  £.  J.  Ryder. 

WaynMbvrg:  Dewtuy  Htnut^  by  S.MilviD, 
H.  H.  Hull,  LC,         W.  S.  Pipes. 

WeiMport:  G.  C.  Deats,  John  F.  Zero. 

WeUslxm):  KWeUAoro  WVn,  May  la,  '84), 
C«U*  House,  by  Jamea  S.  Coles, 
Robt.R.I>artt,(iL),VP,  A.R.  NUes,  ^S-T, 
H.  L.  Davis,t  Lyman  S.  Roberts.F, 

F.A.Deans,LS,(P),C,  Gea  M.Spalding,  $P, 
Geo.  W.  Honk,(C),   Geo.  W.  Williams.N. 

Westchester:  B.O.Green,(Q,  sooS.Ch.  st 

West  Newton:  S.  E.  Pool 

W.  Fhiladelpliia:  J.S.Durham^Univ.of  Pa., 
F.F.  Field,  8.e.  cor.  36th  and  Poweltonav., 
W.C.  McGintock,!  Brown  and  Preston  sts. 

Wilkesbsne:  {IV,  B.  C), 

E.  Carpenter,  C.  A.  Hobbs. 

Wtttlunsport:  {IV.  IV.  C,  June  10,  'S3), 
Frank  R.  Otto,t  Wai  H.  Painter. 

Wyoming:  C  P.  Knapp,t  W.  S.  Stites.t 

York:  IVashingUm  Houu,  G.  D.  Gotwald,t 
Howard  O.  Lautz,  Daniel  K.Trimiiier,$UL 

DELAWARE. 
Dover:  P.  Burnett,      John  S.  Collins. 
Wilmington:  J.  N.Robinson,  R.P.TatnalI. 

MARYLAND. 
Baltimore:  PraU  Library ,  HoUl  Rennart, 
Maryland  BL  Cbtb,  (Mar.   14,  *83),   dub- 
house  opp.  Mt   Royal  Reservoir,  cor. 
Reservoir  st.  and  Mt.  Royal  av.,  Druid 
Hill  Park  (dedicated  Oct.  sq.'Ss), 
O.  H.  Balderston,  125  Parkav., 
S.T.Clark,»*Lc,TC,(P),  3  and  4  Hanover  st., 
Albert  C.  Kenly,  (S),  93  Carey  st., 
N.  A.  S.  Key8er,tiL,  375  Madison  av. 
L.  Stone  King,  lc,  (C),  68  Exchange  PL, 
Edward  Markell,  i33->3S  W.  Lombard  st, 
G.  WiUiam  Maalin,  B.  &  O.  BuUding, 
Yates  Penniman  (lr), 
W.  H.  Perkins,  |r.,  32  N.  Charles  st., 
William  Spuvgeoo,  333  W.  Baltimore  st, 
John  W.  Taylor,  3  Lennox  st, 
Alfred  C  Thompson,  S,  47-49  German  st., 


James  Thompson,LCC,2X9  W.  Baltimore  st, 
Albert  Trego,(LOc),  B.  &  O.  Building. 
BaltimareCycUChib[{orZ'  as  Laf^eUt  Whetl- 
men,  July  11,  '83),  at  737  Madison  av. 
C.  W.  Abbott, VP,  643  W.  Fayette  st, 
J.  F.  Baetjer,  (T,C),  341  W.  Baltimore  St., 
W.  S.  Bayley,  (S,VP,P),ls,  366  North  av., 
Fred  W.  Beck,  jr.,  S,  ny  Harlem  av., 
Chas.  H.  Boyd,  86  St.  Paul's  Extended, 
W.  B.  Brown,  iL,  3  N.  Charles  st., 
J.  E.  Davidson,  P,  177  W.  Baltimore  st, 
C.C.Isaacs,T,cor. Carey  stand  Edm'soav., 
G.  N.  Jacobi,  C,  648  Druid  Hill  av., 
Wm.  S.  Kahlcr,  (P),  285  N.  GilmeRt, 
Harry  P.  Kreis,  sL,  318  Myrtle  av., 
R.  M.  Lockwood,  jr.,  S,  33  Second  st., 
Chas.  B.  Ludwig,  (C),  150  N.  Howard  St., 
A.  E.  Mealy,  (lr,C,P),  453  Mulberry  St., 
A.  W.  Mentzel,  B,  340  Lanvale  St., 
A.  M.  Snyder,  2L,  136  N.  Howard  st, 
W.  Edgar  Sprigg.  (F), 
Wra.  H.  Thomas,  jr.,  100  S.  Charles  st, 
Fred  W.  Whitman,  381  McCuIloh  st, 
Chas.  J.  Winterle,  61  Park  av., 
C.  Worthington,  F,  6  Rialto  BuUding. 
{WkirlmgUnPnofMd.,  disbanded  Jan., '86), 
Wasliington  B.  Booc,C,LS,  40  Jackson  sq., 
Pierre  G.  Dausch,tP,  325  E.  Baltimore  st., 
Lewis  Hetz,  F,  14  Water  st, 
J.  K.  L«  Touman,B,  38  N.  Ann  st, 
G.  Lotttrel  Lucas,  14  Water  st., 
E.J.Mabbett,LR,T,cor.Fayette&Front  sts., 
F.  L.  Shaffer,  jr.,  431  E.  Baltimore  st, 
J.  R.  Wheeler,  jr.,(S),  P.  O.  Box  485, 
Joseph  Wiesenfeld,  F,  143  N.  Gay  st 
The  first  three  foDowing  belong  to  the  Jim- 
tor  fVkeeimen  o/Bait.,  (org.  Nov.  3,'8s),  and 
the  next  five  to  the  Druid  Cyclists  0/  BaU.^ 
(org.  March,  '84),  whUe  the  remainder  are  pre- 
sumed to  be  unattached. 
C.P.Brigham,(S,C),McCuiloh  &  Presstman 
C.  B.  Chatworthy,  184  McCulloh  st.,  [sts., 
Wm.C. Crawford, (S),469  EuUw  PL, 
L.  Herbert  Bailey,  361  Madison  av., 
J.  Kemp  Bartlett,  C,  lb,  41  Lexington  st., 
F.  C.  Kiikwood,  P.  O.  Box  364, 
James  S.  Reese,B,  366  W.  Baltimore  st, 
Chas.  S.  Stran,  (lt),  r6  Eastern  av., 
W.  J. Atkin8on,N.E.cor.Lex*gton  &  Liberty 
Morris  Brown,  199  Hoffman  st,  [sts., 

S.  T.  Clark  &  Co.,**  3  and  4  Hanover  st., 
Cushittgs  &  Bailey,**  363  Baltimore  st., 
J.  W.  Eberman,  k6i  Riggs  av.. 


782 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Janon  Fisher,  39  Cathedral  st, 

M.  HartweU,o,  Johns  Hopkins  University, 

Lovell  Hutchins,  141  W.  Pratt  St., 

E.  Oliver,  378  Eutaw  PL, 

A.  Schumacher  &  Co.,*»  9  S.  Gay  St., 
Chas.  J.  Tillman,  3  Block  St., 

Cumberlaad:  E.  H.Baker  J,  W.W.Damell. 

Olenwood:  Frank  Dorsey. 

Hagentown:  (/^.  B.  C,  May  36,  '84), 
Baldwin  Mousey  by  James  R.  McLaughlin, 
W.  E.  McCoraas,  P,  Geo.  Updegniff,  C. 

North  Bast:  Harry  H.  Simpers. 

Oxford: 
Wm^S.  Bratt,  John  W.  Murphy, 

H.  Jarvis,ir§*»  W.  C.  Nichols. 

Tilghman*8  Islaad:  J.  E.  Kinnamon. 

WestaonlBBter:  (If'.  AC),  W.L.Seabrook,tS. 

DISTRICT  OF  COLUMBIA. 

Ctoorgetown:  L.  W.  Jewell,  3260  First  st. 

Washington:  Library  0/  Congrtss^ 
Pyaiard's  HoUl,  by  O.  G.  Staples, 
Penn.  av.,  at  t4th  st. 

Capital B.  C,  (Jan.  3i,*79),  club-house,   isth 
C.  M.  Barrick,  (sub  C),  213  8th  st.,         [st., 
Fred  S.  Church  ,(C),sub  C,i  127  17th  st.  n.w., 
Wallace  F.  Grossman,  708  9th  st.  n.  e., 
Edw.B.  Forney,  Penn.  av.  &  12th  st  n.w., 
C.  E.  Hawley,  1353  Conn,  av., 
Leiand  Howard,  (P),  1407  15th  st., 
L.  W.  Seely,1:(LC,S,C),  56  Pacific  Building, 
Benj.  F.  Wilktns,  jr.,  923  23d  st. 

iVoikingUm  C.  C,  l,  (Mar.  31,  ♦83), 
club-house,  1023  t2th  st.  n.  w., 
(James  I.  Brereton,  (C),  A  st.  n.  e.), 
A.  P.  Crenshaw,  jr.,  T,  621  19th  St., 
(Geo.  E.  Emmons,  (lr),  602  E  st.  s.  e.>, 
Wm.  T.  Fizer.HT,  1819  15th  st.  n.  w., 
W.  B.  Hardy,  25  Lafayette  sq., 
Amos  W.  Hart,(P),  ma  N.  Y.  av., 
John  H.  Hawley.S,  (Chicago), 
Wm.  Geo.  Kent,  1117  Penn.  av., 
G.M.Meyers,(L,S-T),S,  Citizens  Nat.  B*k, 

F.  W.  Moulton,  1420  N.  Y.  av., 
F.  H.  Pelou2e,(P),  3i4-3t6  8th  st, 

E.  T.  Pettengill,§P,(S),  lcc,  1713  N.  Y.  av., 
T.  J.  Putnam,(S),  Library  of  Congress, 
L.  H.  Schneider,  t(LCc),  611  aoth  st  n.  w., 
J.  Chas-V.  Sroith,*(C,VP),  1206  Penn.  av., 
Louis  C.  Solyom,  Library  of  Congress. 
The  rest  are  supposed  to  be  unattached: 
Winston  Bresee,  1324  F  st.  n.  w., 
Geo.  M.  Finckel,        H.  W.  Higham, 


John  B.  Hotchkiss,    John  A-  PoTter,o, 
Henry  D.Maynadier,  Geou  F.  KnoS, 
R.  S.  Painter,  (Wm.  C.  Scribocr), 

F.  H.  Panons,  Geo.  W.  Walter. 

WEST  VIRGINIA 
Martinaborg:  H.  S.  Smith,  195  Front  st 
Shepherdstown:  A.  E.  Miller, 

£Meler  Hottl,  by  B.  F.  Graves. 
Summit  Polat:  Add.  S.  AUen. 
Wheeling:  {W.  W^Pn,  Sept  aa,  "So), 

New  McC/ure  Haute,  by  F.  J.  Nortoo, 

WUliam  D.  McCoy. 

VIRGINIA. 

BerryTille:  M.  Griffith.} 

Harrisonburg:  {Star  B.  C,  Oct.  10,  •84), 
Frank  L.  Harris,  BP,  Carter  C.  Sprinkel.M, 
John  L.  Logan,  S,     P.  S.  Thomas,  (S>, 
Geo.  W.  Ribble,*^:,  J.  C.  Van  Pelt 

Natural  Bridge:  Nainral  Brkige  HeUl^ 

[by  H.  C  Panom. 

Norfolk:  {SeasidM  B.  C,  May,  >8o), 
C.  A.  Field,  jr.,  P. 

^\€timaitA\{pid DominiffnW^ti^  June,*S5X 
J.T.Butler,  jr.,VP,L,  O.  H.  Meyer,  S-T. 
Linn  B.  Enslow, 

Stamiton:  Virginia  Heiel^  by  J.D.  Crowie 

Straatnirg:  CkalybeaU  Swings  H^tei^ 

[by  A.  P.  McIotnHF. 

Waxrenton:  Warren  Green  f/eiei, 

[by  J.  H.  Maddux. 

Winchester:  Lewis  N.  Barton,  Union  B*uk. 

Woodstock:  N.  B.  Schmitt 

NORTH  CAROLINA. 
ChariotteKCAC,  Mar.i5,'83),T.T.Gi1iiier, 

R.L.  Jones,  S-T,    Will  L.Pbarr,(F),subC. 

L.  J.  Massey,  T.  B.  Seigie. 

Wilmington:  {W.  B.  T.,  Nov.  9,  '83), 

James  L.  Yopp,  P,lc: 

SOUTH  CAROLINA. 
ColumhiaKC.  B.  C. ,  Aug.9,'83),G.  M.Berry.C. 

E.  H.  Hewitt,  W.  Jenidoo. 

Qreenville:  Pardon  B.  Sanford. 

GEORGIA. 

Colnmbna:  (C.B.C),  T.  L.  Ingrara,*C 

Macon:  {M,  A  C,  May  13,  "Ss), 
John  C.  Flynn,  iL,    Jesse  E.Sk>ciniib,at.* 
J.  H.  PolhiU,5C,       Jaa.  C.  Wtobag.  a 

ThomasviUe:  W.  F.  Mon. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


783 


WflSfcPoillt:  {W.  P,  £.  C), 
CUrk  Hmut,  by  R.  S.  Clark 
B.  F.  Eady,  Frank  Lanier, 

R.  T.  Float,  Henry  Lanier.* 

FLORIDA. 

VenuudinA:  W.  J.  Farrell  {Peoria  B.  C). 

Orlando:  William  G.  Brown. 
ALABAMA. 

Bfrmingham:  (B.  B.  C),  Gea  L.  Root 

Montgomery:  {M.  B.  C    :884), 
Tkt  Wauiun',  by  Watt  &  Lasier, 
Harry  Bibb,  R.  H.  Polk, 

Oliver  A.  Clapp,         W.  J.  Tullis, 
Joe  Cue,  D.  £.  Williams,  jr., 

Frank  X.  Mudd,*      Sam.  £.  Wilson. 

New  Castle:  C.  P.  Orr. 

Toakegee:  (r.  B.  C),  J.  B.  Dryer,  C 
MISSISSIPPL 

ColTunbnS:  Sam.  B.  Johnston. 

Holly  Springs:  S.  M.  Patton. 

Vlcksburg:  James  Purvis  Bruce, 
Washington  Hotels  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  Christl:  {Victor B.  C,  May  7,  '84), 
B.G.  Bames.C,  B.P.  Hancock,  F.E.  Wells. 

Port  Worth:  Henry  H.  ICerT,o. 

ChdTeston:  {Q.  B.  C.\ 
a.  G.  AUison.Q,        T.  L.  Grover, 
(E.L.Beckwlth,(La:,S).),  C.M.Scrimgeour. 

Wichita  Falls:  R.  West  Starr. 

ARKANSAS. 

Little  Rook:  Charles  F.  ShiUaber. 

Pine  Bluff:  Amis  House,  by  Sara.  H.  Amis, 
Jos.  P.  Angell,*  Smith  Stubblefield, 

Chester  Flouraoy,      T.  J.  Wilsoe. 
S.  Getsreiter, 

TENNESSEE. 

Chattanooga:  {Crescent  B.  C,  1883), 
Qarke  H.  Horoe.C,  John  S.  Lindsay,  S. 

Memphis:  {M,  B.  C,  June  33,  '84), 
J.  R.  Garrison,  C.  J.  Scherer,* 

S.WadeHampton,jr.,B,  W.L.  Surprise, IjCC, 
S.M.Mallalieu,C,  W.F.Yates^iL,  (S-T, 
T%*  SoMtMem  Cycler,  pub.  at  309  Maia  st 


I     NashTlUe:  Library  of  Ou  K.  M.  C.  A., 
I     {NasMviUe  Bicycle  CM,  Sept  14,  '80), 
I        J.  B.  Burdett,»«C,  A.  E.  Howell, (C,P,u:cX 
J.  Howard  Coles,       J.  Knox  Polk,  B, 
Ed.  D.  Fisher.  J.  S.  Ross,  F. 

{Rock  City  Bicycle  Club,  Feb.,  »84), 
Bowman  Duncan,       C.  C.  Northern,  VP, 
Henry  Hartung,  P,    J.  B.  Northern,  B, 
AdrianV.  Lindsley,jr. ,0, K.  Northem,N, 
Henry  Morris,T,        Eugene  Sinclair, 
Robert  W.  Nichol,     J.  D.  Talbot,  S. 
KENTUCKY. 

Ashland:  {ParJk  Ciiy  WPn,  Apr.,io.  *84), 
J.  C.  Brubaker.P,  Ashland  Poage,  S-T,lc, 
P.  Brubaker,  L. R.Putnam, 

Edw.  Crawford,  E.  M.  RoberU,  (P), 

John  Hendenon,        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,  u:,     H.  L.  Tayfor. 

Bardstown:  Central HoUl,  by  I.M.Hughs. 

Cave  City:  Mammoth  Cave  Hotel, 

[by  W.  C  Comstock. 

Covington:  {Kenton  IV.  C,  Oct  15,  83), 
R.  B.  Baldwin,  Hananerft  Myers,** 

RobeonC.Greer,(C),  P.N.  Myer8,(S-T,ijc), 
Chas.  W.  Hananer,    H.  S.  Rodgers,  B. 

Dayton:  H.  W.  Langley. 

Dulaney:  Robert  D.  Garrett 

Henderson:  {H.  B,  C),l,  BarreU  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:  Norris  Housed  Kelly  &  Ballard. 

Lexington:  {L.  B.  C,  May  15,  '80), 
Frank  P.  Soearce.* 

Louisville:  {FaUs  City  B.  C,  Feb.,  *8i), 
P.R.BettTSon,(2L),B,    Hugo  Helbum,!  L, 
A.  S.  Dietsman,  S-T,  (ls). 
C.  F.  Johnston,  ls,(P,S),  C 
The  last-named  belongs  to  the  Louisville 

W.  C.  (org.  1884),  and  perhaps  some  of  the 

folloDinng  do  also,  as  some  were  members  of 

the  Kentucky  B.  C.  (oig.   1881),  which  dis- 
banded early  in  '85: 
Horace  Beddo,  *lr,  Orville  W.  Lawson, 
Newton  C.Crawford,  Arthur  L. Thompson, 
H.  B.  Gunther,  Harry  Verhoeff, 

SUn1eyB.Huber.«(iL),  John  M.  VerhoefF. 
Chas.  H.  Jenkinr.  (Hm)  iJCattieVerboeff. 


784 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Newport:  C.  P.  Buchanan,  jr. 
Owsnsboro:  John  T.  Higdon,  )r.,  lc 
Paduofth:  John  R.  Scales. 
Princeton:  John  M.  Verhoeff  (Louisville). 

OHIO. 

Akron:  {Akron  Wlutlmen,  May  15,  '8a), 
Sunmer  Hohu,  G.  C.  McNeil, 

C.  E.  Caskey,  lc,      WQl.  T.  Sawyer. 

ABhlAnd:  F.  W.  MilIer,LC. 

Avondale:  {A  .B.  C),  C.  A.  Stevens,P,(Cin.). 

Belleville:  Lynn  A.  LeFevre,  B.  O.  Squier.f 

Berea:  Dayton  C.  Miller,  lc. 

Bncyms:  C.  J.  Scroggs. 

Canton:  (C.  B,  C),  Si.  CUmdHota, 

E.  Bamet,  n,  F.  C  Meyer,  lc,  VP, 
Wade  Chance,  Joa.  A.  Meyer,  jr.,L, 
C.  S.  Cock,S-T,(Lc),  E.  E.  MiUer. 

J.  W.  Harpster.tN,    Will  G.  Saxton. 
Oinoinnati:  (C.  B.  C,  Sept  a,  '80), 
A.  A.  Bennett,  *P,  166  Main  St., 
H.  N.  Kitchen,  (S),  34S  Race  st, 
£.  F.  Landy,  tL,  aoS  W.  4th  St., 
H.  S.  Livingston,(LCC,C),  443  W.  7th  st, 
W.  G.  MUes,  344  Clark  St, 
J.  R.  Pigman,  aL, 

F.  L.  Saigent,  90  W.  3d  st, 

J.  H.  Watters,  Queen  City  Nat  Bank. 

CifteinMoti  WoMtUrtrsJI^^axut^^^i^^  Madison 
Road,  E.  Walnut  Hflls, 
Chas.A.Steven8,P,Bigelowst,Mt  Auburn. 

BriglUffH  B.  C,  (Nov.  i5,'82),7oMcLean  av., 
Wm.  Bahman,(S),  264  Findlayst, 
John  Barclay, C,  269  Vine  st, 
H.  Kessler  Smith,(T),  168  York  st. 

The  following  are  not  club  members: 
Chas.W.AIlen,jr.,s.w.cor.Main  and  5th  sts., 
Warner  E.  Galway,  las  W.  Seventh  st 

CleTeland:(C.  B.  C.  ,Sept ,  '79,937  Eudid  av.), 
T.  S.  Beckwith,  (iL),  974  Euclid  av., 
Fred.  S.  Borton,  (S),  743  Euclid  av., 
F.  W.  Bowler,  308  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,  3530  Sawyer  st, 
Alfred  Ely,  jr.,  lr,  tcc,  S,  873  Prospect  St., 
S.  XI.  Freeman, 

Harry  Glidden,  Weddell  House, 
A.  S.  Hathaway,  3578  Broadway, 
J.  T.  Huntington,  106  Summit  st, 
John  C.  Nicholson,  tt  Standard  Block, 


C.  W.  Norman,  (S),  68  Rook  at., 

H.  R.  Payne,  (C),  P,  ai  Standaid  Block, 

C.  H.  Potter,  (B),  toc,  99  Superior  at. 

A.  C  Rogers,  aL,  at  Standard  Block. 
Fred  P.  Root,  (iL),  C,  579  Proaped  st, 
Fred  T.  Sholes,  (C,lCS), 

Frank  B.  Stedman,  (P),  i^i  Cedar  av., 
E.  L.  Strong,  Euclid  av., 

B.  F.  Wade,  17  (3ieshire  st, 

J.  H.  Wade,  jr.,  986  Eudid  ar., 
U.  G.  Walker,  3586  Bniadway. 

CUvtland  r.C..(Mar.a3,'8s),io3aWi]]aoii  av.. 
H.  T.  Collins,  iioo  WiUson  av., 
J.  H.  Collister,  S-T,  147  Ontario  at, 
G.  T.  DowIing,t  965  Euclid  av., 
£.  P.  Hunt,  425  Woodland  av., 
R.  E.  Macduff, t  1353  Slater  av., 
Chas.  H.  Penfield,  66  Ontario  at, 
Chas.  H.  Potter,  C,  tcc,  99  Superior  at, 
W.  C.  Rudd,  L,  33  Cheshire  St., 
Henry  D.  Sizer,  P,  103a  Willaon  av. 

The  following  are  not  dub  members: 
N.  C.  Bosworth,  Eudid  av., 
J.  S.  Cary,  655  Euclid  av., 
E.  C.  Henderson,  o,  ai  Standard  Bbck, 
W.  P.  Horton,  jr.,  177  Euclid  av., 
W.  F.  Knapp,  959  Woodland  st, 
Henry  G.  Phelps,  145  Ontario  at, 

C.  S.  Pomeroy.t  961  Prospect  st, 
Samuel  A.  Raymond,  i  Gushing  Block, 
Robert  Ruck,  192  Superior  st, 

J.  Edwards  Smith,ir  33  Eudxl  av., 

J.  W.  Van  Doom,  1348  Willson  av.. 

N.  J.  Worky,  ai  Standard  Bkick. 
College  Hill:  {B.  C),  W.  H.  Aiken,  vc 
ColumblU:  {Buckeye  B.  C,  Oct  31,  '80). 

C.  J.  Krag,  (S),  Jos.  McCnne.  (Q. 

Henry  Lindenbuig,    Ward  B.  Periey,  (S)u 

W.  H.  Miller,  P.  lr,  (lP.  lVP), 
Dayton:  (/>.  B.  C,  i88i),  A. W.  Gump,**  S, 

Geo.  C.  Pyle,  Sidney  A.  Reeve. 

Deflanoe:  CroshyHmu*,  byWm.  Kixtky.jr.. 

Charies  E.  Slocuro.lT 
Delaware:  {Revert  C.  C,  Aug.  ao,  *83), 

J.  Ellsworth  Williams,  (C). 
Dennison:  Maurice  Moody,  ut. 
Elyrla:  {S.  B.  C,  Sept.,'83),  Beeke  Heme,  t. 
Findlay:  J.  H.  Boger,  lr. 
Fottoria:  {F.  B.  T.  C,  May  18,  'Sa), 

W.  G.  Ledry,  H.  £.  Mickey,  (S,  CX 

A.  E.  Meisentha]er,Lc,  C  E.  Schaufelbeiier. 
GamMer:  Kenyem  CelUge  LArary^ 

Gca  C.  S.  Sottthwortb,  to. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


78s 


Ctoovoport:  S.  T.  Ncedela. 

Hamilton:  P.  Benninghofen,*  l& 

JTamettown:  John  Jones. 

IfetMUUni:  J.  G.  Benedict. 

Lorel:  H.  Williams,  uc 

X^ekland:  Will  F.  Goetie. 

ICanafiflld:  (.Msrcury  H(,  C,  Aug.  30^  »84), 

Benj.  Hurxthal,  jr.,    A.  P.  Seiler.* 
IffiiMfllim;  KM,  IV.  C.  June  1,  '84), 

Geo.  S.  Atwater,  C,    James  R.  Dunn,  ut. 
Medina:  (MtHma  Co,  W^tn,  July  4,  'S4), 

Blake  Hendrickson,  lc,  Phoenix  Nat.  B'uk. 
K«ntor:  Geo.  E.  Mather. 
Middletown:  E.  W.  Gunckel,    J.  B.  Tytus. 
Mount Vemon:  (JIf/.  V.ar^rn,  Feb.  ]9,'84), 

Harry  Crumley,  S,     Will.  C.  McFadden.. 

W.H.Dianey,LC,(T),  Frank  L.  Spindler, 

Harry  W.  Ewalt,        Will  W.  Wilkinson, 

Isaac  Hughes,  C.  Dwight  Young. 

W.CMcFadden.iL, 
Kew«rk:  {ValUy  B.  C.  June,  *83), 

Lamley  E.  Evans,      Walter  H.  Evans. 
HOm:  F.  a.  Wilson. 
Norwalk:  Young  Men* t  Librmry^ 

G.  F.  Titus.t 
Oberlln:  H.  H.  Ruasen,t  Oberlin  CoU^ie. 
OrrrillA:  Proctor  E.  Sears. 
Portcmoath:  (/'.  B.  C,  Nov.  8,  'Sa), 

T.  M.  Becker,  lc. 
Prwton:  J.  L.  Wakefield. 
BaTennA:  C  H.  Griffin. 
BoffglM:  M.  O.  Daniels. 
Btarevo:  C.  W.  Hughes,  uc 
Sidney:  ( Valhy  City  W.  C,  March  1.  '83>, 

W.  P.  H  irmony,  P.    Hugh  T.  Mathers.  B. 
Springfield:  {Champion  CUy  ^.C.,Jun.,*8i), 

E.  G.  Bamett,  S,       Paul  A.  Staley,  lr, 

A.  M.  Crothers,  lt,    Arthur  Worthington. 

T.J.  Kirknatrick.LOC,* 
Toledo:  (7'.  A  C,  Dec,  '8o\  L, 

W.  G.  E.liolt,  James  M.Tryon,S-T, 

Lyle  Hubbard,  H.  E.  Richards,  C. 

Wenen:  (Trumbnn  B.  C), 

Frank  A.  Iddin^,  W.  D.  Packard,  lc 
Zenla:  {X.  B  C.Mar./Sa),  R.  S.  Kingsbulry. 
Toongttown:  (y.B.C.\K.  I.  Nicholas,S,Lc 
Zanetville:  {Z.  B.  C,  May  3,  '83), 

Chas.  £.  Pinkerton. 

MICHIGAN. 
Adrian:  (A.  B.  C),  Geo.  J.  Bowerfind, 

W.H.Burnharo,S.T,  Henry  M.  Judge. VP, 

A.  L.  Conger,  W.  B.  Mumford.*  P, 

I.  H.  Finch,  C,  C.  0.  Wiesinger,  iL. 

60 


Ann  Arlwr:  (A.  A,  B,  C,  '8s),  Cook //onto, 
Fti  UptUonLibnay^  Geo.  F.  Keck,  S,  lc, 
£.  £.  Beal,  J.  £.  Robmson, 

Jun.  E.  Beal,  P,  lcc,  W.  F.  Stimaon, 
C.  B.  Davison,  B,       Louis  D.  Taylor,  C, 
Harry  W.  Hawley,     Chas.  W.  Wagner.* 

AxmadA:  C  £.  Lathrop,  lc 

Battle  Creek:  £.  C.  Adams,  Frank  S.  Ray. 

Bay  City:  tA  C.  A  C,  '83), 
Porter  &  Baker.* 

Calumet;  W.  M.  Harris,  Thos. Wells,  )r.,LC 

Cheboygan:  Thompson  Smith,  lc. 

Coldwater:  <C.  A  C,  July  11,  '83), 
Harry  J.  Bansett,  F,  D.  W.  Marsh, 

C.A.Conover,(C,P),C,LC  Wm.  E.  Pray, 
C.  H.  Dickinson,  John  T.  Suit. 

Detroit:  KD.  B.  C,  Sept.  a,  *79),  ' 
C.  E.  Alvord,  R.  R.  Lansing,  (P), 

Frank  Z.  Curtis,  (L),  A.  F.  Peck,  lc,  S-T, 
Chas,  E.  Dudley,       T.  B.  Rayl  &  Co.,»» 
W.  H.  Elmer,(S-T),  John  G.  Read, 
Leon  C  Fink,(S-T),    C.  H.  Smith,  (C), 
Channing  T.Gage.J    F.  H.  Spninger,  jr., 
Albert  P.  Jacob8,to,  C.  D.  Siandish,  (P), 
Chas.  H.  Jacobs,  o,    Fred  T.  Todd, 
Peter  N.  Jacobsen,    R.  H.  Weekes, 
Chas.  Kudner,  O,     Harmon  Wendell. 

Baet  Saginaw:  {E.  S.  B.  C,  May  a4>  '84)> 
Theo.  Huss,  P. 

Grand  Bapidi:  Frank  H.  Escott,  lc 

GreenviUe:  W.  G.  Dark. 

ishpeming:  Henry  Harwood. 

Jaekaon:  (/.  B.  C,  July  ai,  '85), 
W.  D.  Spaulding,       B.  A.  Webster,  P. 

Lansing: B.,  lc 

Marshall:  E.  P.  Johnson.t 

Negannee:  Joe  Schauher.f 

Grid:  O.  B,  C.,(Apr.,'82>,W.  C.  Marvin,(S). 

OWOSSO:  E.  W.  Woodward. 

St.  .TohnS:  G.  E.Corbin,1l  R.  G.  Steel,  uc 

St.  Loois:  {St  L,  B.  C),  John  A.  WeUer. 

INDIANA. 

AlUon:  Owen  J.  Black. 

Anbnm:  {A,  B.  C.  Sept.,  '84), 
F.  E.  Davenport,y»     G.  W.  McKay. 
F.  C.  Davis,*  Bert,  C.  Robbins,  S, 

O.  P.  Ensley,  O.  F.  Wood, 

H.  A.  I^h,  G.  H.  Yesbera. 

Colnmbns:  {Jndkma  B.  C).  G.  Freidgeon^ 
Charles  Green,  A.  Rice,^ 

Wm.  G.  Irwin,  lc.     W.  H.  Sanders, 
(C.  F.  Smith,  Indianapolis). 


786 


TEN  THOmiAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Fort  Wayne:  {Ft.  H^ayt$e  B.C.^  Apr.  9,*$^), 
Stephen  D.Bond,L,         H.  J.  Meyer, 
C.W.Edgarton,*C,VP,    G.  W.  Morris, 
John  M.  Kuhns,  Louis  Ohnhous, 

F.  S.  Lightfoot,  G.  A.  Ross,ir  P, 

Chas.  J.  McLain,  S,       T.  F.  Thieme. 

Greensbnrg:  W.  H.  Wooden,tLC 

Huntlngtoxi:  Ed.  A.  Price,  lc 

IndianapoliB:  (/.  B.  C,  Sept.  24,  '84), 
Bates  House ^  by  Louis  Reifold, 
Hotel  English,  l,  by  H.  H.  Jackson, 
Wm.  E.  Bryce,  S-T,  13  E.  South  St., 
Wm.  H.  Daggett,  100  S.  Meridian  St., 
Gus.  Davore,  320  E.  Vermont  St., 
Joseph  L.  Johnson,  24  Kentucky  ar., 
Wm.  McWorkman,  35  S.  Alabama  St., 
C.  Plumb,  (S-T),  LC,  18  N.  Meridian  St., 
A.  L.  Roache,  Ind.  Bridge  Works, 
W.  H.  Sanders,  142  N.  Mississippi  st., 
C.  F.  Smith,**  C,  59  S.  Illinois  St., 
Wm.  Wiegel,  10  W.  Louisiana  St., 
Wm.  F.  Wocher,  179  E.  St.  Mary's  St., 
Joshua  Zimmerman,  (S),  39  i:*.  Alabama  st 

Iryington:  Library  of  Butter  Universiiy. 

KokomO:  W.  B.  Manning,  lc. 

La  Fayette:  (Z.  B.  C.  '79),  B.  Lewis,  (S). 

Log^ansport:  Sam  Patterson. 

Madlion:  W.G.Heberhart,  J.  R.  Matthews. 

New  Castle:  Oscar  E.  Evans, 
J.  R.  Hickman,  D.  W.  Kerr. 

NoblesvUle:  (A^.  B.  C,  March  11,  '85), 
W.  E.  Dunn,  lc,     L.M.Wainwright,»LCC 

Orange:  Will  A.  George,  Riley  Hunt. 

Plymouth:  R.  B.  Oglesbee,  o. 

Bichmond:  C.  F.  Wright. 

BushviUe:  {Rush  Co.  WPn),  A.B.  Irvin,ix:. 

Bu88laville:  Sam.  P.  Hollingsworth,  lc 

Shellsyville:  E.  O.  Winterrowd.* 

Terre  Haute:  {T.  H.  B.  C),  J.  F.  Probst, 

Probst  &  Fisbeck,**  23-25  S.  Fourth  st. 

ILLINOIS. 

Aihmore:  Will  Rose.** 

Aurora:  M.»^'/*«,  May,*84),  Hotel  Evans, 
David  A.  Belden,  H.  B.  Stippick, 

G.O.Clayton,*(S-T),  Fred.  Swarthout, 
E.A.Fitigerald,(C),S-T,  G.I.Tuttle,C,VP, 
Edward  Frazier,  P,  Harric  Young, 

Chas.  Griswold,  N.  H.  Wood,  n. 

Belvidere:  Charies  E.  Parkhill. 

Bloomlngton:  {B.  B.  C.,'83), 
Chas.  Dodge,  C,         J.  M.  Fulton,  ||P, 
W.Ellis  Dunn ,(C),B,  W.  J.  Matem,  In, 
Benn  Fell,  F,  D.  D.  Warner. 


BracevUle:  John  J.  Young. 

Canton:  T.  C.  Higbir,  Leon  B.  : 

Cannl:  (C.  B.  C),  John  F.  Fn 

Champaign:  F.  D.  Levering. 

Charleston:  J.  W.  Dikol. 

Chicago:  (C.  B.  C,  Sept  i,  '79). 

Chicago  Bicycle  Chtb,  189  Michigan  sr., 
Burley  B.  Ayers,  54  Clark  st, 
J.  O.  Blake,  P,  lcc,  68-70  Wabash  ar., 
L.  W.  Conkling,  S,  tcc,  108  Madison  st, 
H.  F.  Fuller,t  470  N.  Suie  st, 
John  R.  W.  Sargent,  C,  1720  Ind.  ar., 
Edward  F.  Sharp,  (S),  iL,  1243 Wabash  a^-. 
Harrie  T.  Slafer,  5836  Division  st, 
David  M.  Stevens,  477  W.  Madison  at, 
Wm.  C.  Thome,  S-T,  227  Wabash  av., 
John  Valentine,  80  Taylor  St., 
N.  H.  Van  Sicklen,  C,  2  Adams  st, 
J.  W.  Wassail,  aoS  Deashom  av., 
£.O.Weed,n.w. cor.  Madison  st.ftMkh.aT., 
F.  E.  Yates,  (VP,  uD,  84  La  Salle  st 

The  following  are  not  dub  members: 
Clarence  W.  Ballard,  124  La  Salle  st, 
Kenneth  Brown,  289  Erie  st, 
Sam'l  Danziger,  xo  N.  Jefferson  st, 
Albert  Durkee,  157  Dearborn  st, 
Frank  P.  Eldredge,  Woodruff  Hotel, 
Geo.  F.  Fi8ke,ir  789  FnUerton  ay., 
Henry  V.  Freeman,^ 

Gormully  &  Jeffery,**  222-224  N.  F*k]in  st, 
John  C.  Grant,  2101  Indiana  av., 
A.  Gruse,  133  E.  Pearson  st, 
J.  H.HawIey,cor.  Wabash  av.  ft  Adams  st, 
Clarence  Marsh,  4900  Washington  ftr., 
V.  F.  Mayer,  95  Fifth  av., 
Sam  Miles,  125  S.  Clark  st, 
W.  J.  Morgan,  (ar>/rr  oflfce,  N.  Y.), 
Edwin  Oliver,  222  N.  Franklin  st. 
Pope  Mfg.  Co.,**  291  Wabash  av., 
Frank  B.  Richards, 

A.  G.  Spalding  ft  Bros.,**  108  Madison  it, 
(Miss) A.  Sylvester,  prof. rider,  2501  Indav., 
The  J.  Wilkinson  Co.,**  68-70  Wabash  av. 

Blgin:  {E.  B.  C,  June,  »84),  F.  C  Aveiy, 
Chas.E.Bemard,LC,    R.  E.  Ltnkfield,  (Q, 
James  Caldwell,VP,   H.  W.  Mehring,  F, 
Frank  Carr,  W.  J.  Pritchard, 

Frank  Crosby,  (S),      C.W.  Steams,  (P>, 
Paul  Herfurth,  J.  M.  Thrasher.Ct 

A.  L.  Keller,  Wm.  Wetzel,  jr.,  S-T. 

Genoa:  {Kuweuikte  B.  C.\ 
C.  A.  Brown,  Sam  A.  Slater, 

H.  A.  Perkins,  Ed.  H.  Wikoa. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


787 


myM^nil  Pirk:  Edward  B.  Weston.lT 

Kankakee:  KK.  B.  C,  June  m,  '83), 
Geo.  F.  Crawford.      Arthur  B.  Hoh,VP. 

Macomb:  Horatio  S.  Beavis.t 

MoUne:  £.  H.  Sleight,  lc 

Monmouth:  H.C.Davies,  F.R.VanTuyl,ijC 

Mount  Carmel: 

W.  W.  Olmstead,  (P)  Carmi  B.  C. 

Peoria:  {P.  B,  C.  Jan.,  »80,  Pub.  Library, 
Frank  S.  Beavis,         John  H.  Koch,  C, 
Geo.  M.  Bush,  jr.,      Koch  Bros.,** 
W.  E.  Coe,  John  S.  Misner, 

Edw.  A.  Cole,  C.  Harold  Plowe, 

C.  H.  Downing,  G.  W.  Rouse  &  Son,** 

(W.  J.  Farrell),  H.  G.  Rouse,  S,  ui, 

C.  W.  Freeman,  F.  J.  Soldan,  n, 

(T.  C.  HigWe),  S.  H.  Tripp,       ' 

W.  T.  Irwin,  P,  Wm.  H.  Y«mg. 

Princeton  (A  B.  C),  A.  B.  Reeve. 

Bockford:  (R.  B.  C,  1882), 

E.  J.  Andrews,  Geo.  S.  Hart,  S,  tc, 

Frank  J.  Ashton,        Frank  L.  Lake,  P, 
H.  L.  Burpee,  F,        Freem'n  Lillibrldge,* 
J.  S.  Gibson,  A.  E.  Thompson,  ui, 

Gibson  &  Hart,*»       (E.  H.  WUcox). 

Sheldon:  James  H.  Seaver. 

Sllringfleld:  Revere  House^  I.  J.  Kusel. 

Sycamore:  W.  C.  Stine. 

Wyoming:  Chas.  E.  Duryea,  LC 

MISSOURI. 
Appleton  City:  Herman  Mench. 
BoonTille:  Walter  Williams,  ed.  Topic. 
Fredericktown:  {Madison  CouniyH^'Pn),!,, 

Chas.  Deguire,  C,       (Jas.  W.  Neill,  L). 
Kansas  City:  {K.  C.  W'Pm),  C.  B.  Ellis,*  C, 

Nelson  T.  Haynes,  iL.    (F.  S.  Ray,  C). 
MineLaMotte:  Jas.  W.  Neill,  lc 
Pleasant  Oap:  Isaac  W.  Mains. 
St.  Joseph:  W.  H.  Cameron,  W.  S.  Osgood. 
St.  Louis:  The  Missouri  B.  C.  (org.  July  24, 
'8i),has  a  club-house  on  the  w.  of  Cardinal 
av.,  between  Pine  and  Olive  sts.    Eurota 
B.  C.  (Oct.,  »82),  Ramblers  B.  C.  and  Sf. 
Louis  Star  B.  C.  are  also  represented 
among  the  folloyring    16  subscribers,  of 
whom  6  belonged  to  Frisco  W^Pn  fS^): 
Chas.  N.  Beggs,  R.  E.  Lee,  C, 

L.  J.  Berger,  ls,        A.  Nicholson,   • 
W.  M.  Brcw8ter,(C),  G.  C.  Oeters,  (P,  lr), 
W.  W.  Carpenter,  jr.  ,(S-T),  J.  S.  Roger»,LR,P 
David  Davies,  (L),     J.  E.  Smith, 
A.  A.  Hart,  Lee  Spemoor, 


J.  K.  TifiEany,to,        F.  P.  Wherry,  (P), 

(Ben  Wasaerman),      Arthur  Young,(C),  S. 
IOWA. 
Add:  Frank  L.  Sweelcy,  lc 
Albia:  W.  P.  Cramer,  lc. 
Burlington:  H.  E.  Jarvia,  Otto  Kroppack. 
Chariton:  O.  E.  Hull. 
Des  Moines:  {Met.  B.  C.  of  la.,  May  i,>84), 

E.  S.  Cotant. 
QrinneU:  S.  G.  Bames,t  J.  E.  Bayer. 
Indianola:  (/.  B.  C),  J.  O.  Baker, 

Frank  Schooley,  F.  E.  Worth,  lc 

Iowa  Falls:  J.  F.  Rail,  ls. 
Jefferson:  W.  M.  Ferguson,  lcc 
MarsbaUtown:  C.  E.  C.  Boardman. 
Oskaloosa:  {O.  W.  C,  Feb.,'85),  l, 

W.  L.  Howe,(LCc),  P.C,   S.  B.Wright,  tcc. 
Ottumwa:  (a  B.  C,  Feb.  16,  '85),  l, 

A.L.  Eaton,S-T,(LT),  C.  M.  Woolworth,  P. 
Sioux  City:  A.  L.  Stetson,  lc 
Winterset:  Chas.  D.  Howell,  (lcc). 

WISCONSIN. 
Beloit:  R.  B.  Clark. 
Jefferson:  J.  C.  Hoffroan.ir 
La  Crosse:  {La  C.  B.  C.,*84),  C.  A.  Smitb,P. 
Menekanne:  N.  E.  Lindquist. 
MUwaokee:  {M.  B.  C,  April  19,  '80), 

A.A.Hathaway,LCC,    G.  H.  Lawrence,  o, 

Angus  S.  Hibbard,     B.  K.  Miller,  toc 
Neenah:  Frank  C.  BisseU. 
Oshkosh:  Clarence  H.  Bean,  J.  A.  Hinman. 
Sparta:  {B.C.,  Mar.  35,'83),  E.W.  Harvey,S. 
Tomah:  Chas.  A.  Calkins,  H.  D.  Powers. 
Watertown:  Herman  M.  Schroeter. 
Winona:   (W'.  B.  C),  John  I.  Wilson,  S-T. 

MINNESOTA. 
Arlington:  H.  W.  Beatty. 
DtUuth:  Chas.  B.  Woodra^. 
Faribault:  (^.AC.,July7,'84),E,L. Sawyer. 
Henderson:  H.  W.  Biasing. 
Howard  Lake: 

Windsor  House,  by  H.  C.  Brackelt. 
Marshall:  John  S.  Renninger.lT 
Minneapolis:  {Mercury  IV.  C),  H.  A.  Aim, 

Grant  Bell,  Eugene  P.  Newhall, 

Louis  B.Graves,LC,    T.J.Richardson,(LCc). 

S.  F.  Heath,**  lcc,  T.  M.  Slosson, 

Edw.  J.  Kimball,      Edwin  S.  Williams, tw. 
Pipestone  City:  G.E.Hart,  H.I.Worobaker. 
Preston:  Edie  Taylor. 
St.  Cloud:  {St.  C.  B.  C,  March,  '85), 

Grand  Central  HoUl,  by  J.  £.  Hayward. 


788 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


St  Y\x^\  E.  H.  Reimbold,  670  De  Soto  st 
Waddoa:  H.  B.  Hamlin. 
Wixuma:  L.  W.  Wonhington. 

DAKOTA. 

Onnd  Forki:  {Dakota  B.  C,  May  is.'Sa), 
Grtggs  HoMUt  by  F.  W.  Boardman, 
G.  A.  Baichelder,  C,  Joe  E.  CUffonl,  S-T. 

Ojftta:  Leonard  Beach. 

WahpeUm:  F.  O.  Mack. 

NEBRASKA. 
Omahft:  {O.  W.  C.  Mar.  19,  '81), 

C  M.  Woodman.  S-T. 
Sautae  Agenoy:  Samuel  H.  Seooombe. 

KANSAS. 

Xhilanoy:  Robert  D.  Garrett 

SmporU:  (i?.  B.  C,  1882), 
Livy  Jay  Buck,  W.  R.  Irwin,*  P. 

7ort  LeaT«nwortli: 

Tki  Fost  Library^     John  J.  Fitzpatrick, 
Chas.  C.  Candy,         Joseph  W.  Krank, 
William  E.  Dalton,     M.  J.  Norton. 

Ctemett:  Giorge  L.  Robinson. 

Harper:  Frank  R.  Zacharias. 

Haaleton:  W.  M.  Fulton,  lc),  S.  E.  Pool. 

Howard:  Tbos.  P.  Campbell. 

Jnnetkni  Olty:  Chaa.  S.  Davis. 

Lawrenoe:  (Z.AC.,Dec,*8aU.M.Robbbs. 

Otwego:  Sam*l  Carpenter,  jr. 

Ottawa:  Clarencs  N.  Brown. 

St.  Msryt:  S.  T.  Hathaway. 

Topeka:  D.  J.  Hathaway. 

Wichita:  £.  E.  Lindemuth. 

NEW  MEXICO. 
TSnoa  Altoa:  V.  C.  Place  (GreeosbaiiK,  Fa.X 

COLORADO. 
Colorado  Springi: 

L.  R.  Khrich,  o,  aiq  N  Nevada  av. 
Denver:  {jCoiortdo  IV.  C,  Sept  a6,  ^83), 

F.  J.  Chamard,  A.  A.  Howe, 

G.  E.  Hannon,  (C),    Lewis  C.  Rice,  (S), 
£.  B.  Hosford,  S,       Lyle  Waterbury. 

Lake  City:  C.  F.  McKenney. 
XieadvUle:  Geo.  E.  Bittinger,  toc. 

WYOMING. 
Cheyenne:  (C  B.  C,  Nov.  a,  '8a), 
ImUr  Octan  H«Ul,  by  John  Chase, 
F.  H.  Clark,  S,  loc,   F.  S.  Hebaid,*  P, 
W.  S.  Cowhick,  H.  a  Rioe,  C 


Laramie  City:  (Z.  B,  C,  Aug;  a6,  '8s), 

C.  S.  Greenbauffl,  lc,  Crbomas  StevensX 
W.  O.  Owen,  lk,         H.  A.  Wagoer. 

Book  Sptingl:  Chas.  P.  Wasaung,  -rac. 

MONTANA. 
Boieman:  J.  W.  Besserer,  F.  A.  FieIding,*LOC. 
Butte:  Ash  Pierce. 

Helena:  (//.  B.  C.\  Herbert  E.  Judge, 
WiU  E.  Nonris,*  S,    T.  H.  Sharpe,  j..  C 

IDAHO. 

Bolae  City: 
OverUuid  Hpttlt  by  Eastnum  Brothers. 

Halley:  {iV^ad  Rhtr  B.  C,  Feb.,*86},  L, 
HatUy  H9UI,  by  Don  McKay, 
Mtrckamit'  HoUl,       P.  A.  Reagan, 
H.  Z.  Burkhart,  Norman  M.  Ruick, 

E.  C.  Coffin,  LCC,  C,  Chas.  J.  Selwyn.VP, 
Scott  Kciper,  Fred  B.  Tinker, 

J.  A.  McCloud,  John  J.  Tracy, 

LyttletoD  Price,  S-T,  Wm.  H.  Wau,  P. 
WASHINGTON. 

Goldendale:  Will  J.  Story. 

Mew  Taeoma:  J.  J.  Sieigus.T 

Seattle:  Chaa.  H.  KitUnger. 
OREGON. 

Amity:  A.  Grant  Smith. 

Aetoria:  W.  E.  Warren. 

B.  Portiand:  H.  M.  Connkk,  C  H.  Hobnt 

Bnsene  City:  Sterling  Hill. 

MoMinnTille:  E.  W.  Fuller. 

MonmoQth:  Burt  G.  Lucas,  loc 

Portland:  (Oregon  B.  C,  Nov.  17,  *8iX 
HoUon.  Hotut,  by  Davki  Holtoa, 
Chas.  S.  Boyce,        Kdw.  H.  Mfllcr, 
George  Breck,  P,      W.  E.  Mitchell, 
Wm.  C.  H.  Burklin,  C.  C  Newcutle.S-T, 
(H.  M.  Cormick),     H.  C.  NickersooXP). 
W.  H.  Cuahman,      T.  J.  O'Connor, 
H.  L.  Hatch,  W.H.Partridge,8uh.C 

J.  C.  HolIi»ter,»       C.  W.  Scott,  B, 
Lawrence  Knapp,     E.  T.  Staley, 
Fn-dT.  Merrill.n:.  (W.  E.  Warrenl 

Salem:  {Ckemeketa  B,  C,  Nov.  27,  *84), 
Chas.  M.  Cox,  L,       T.  Howard, 
H.  L.  Hatch,  C,        W.  W.  Martin.  P. 
UTAH. 

Ogden:  Seth  J.  Griffin. 

Salt  Lake  City:  tSi^  Lmkt  B.  C,  May,*8a 
Barnes  &  Davis,**     W.  Jeanings,  S-T, 

D.  L.  Davis,  toe,  C,  C.  E.  Johnson, 
J.  Jaques,  G«a  J.  Taylor,  P. 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


789 


ARIZONA. 
:  F.  W.  Gregg. 

CALIFORNIA. 

1.08  Angelei :  {jCeniamr  B.  C,  1883), 
Nathan  White,  C,      G.  A.  Von  Brandii,  S. 

Hew  Almaddn:  £.  R.  Abadic 

OftUaad:  (a  B.  C,  Aug.,  '80), 
J.  D.  Aekiaon,  T.  S.  Hardy. 

PetftluBUb:  A.  H.  Cowen. 

Sivenide:  P.  L.  AbeL 

San  FraiioiBOO:  The  S,  F,  B,  C.  (Nov.  a8, 
'78)  is  one  of  the  very  oldest,  and  its  ab- 
sorption of  the  Cali/orma  C.  C,  in  Jan., 
'86,  will  doubtless  give  it  increased  pros- 
perity. The  A^  Cify  WTn  (Sept.,  '84) 
boasts  a  membership  of  nearly  100,  and 
supports  the  League.  The  GoUen  City 
B,  C.  (Nov.  30,  '84)  was  ozganixed  by 


professional  racers.     See  i^.  489-494. 
Subscribers  from    all    these  dubs,  and 
from  the  unattached,  are  arranged  below: 
B.  S.  Benjamin,  si8  Van  Ness  av., 
Milton  Berolzhime,  7  and  8  Battery  St., 
Chas.  Biederman,  (C),  818  Sutter  sL, 
Melville  A.  Bley,  905  Ellis  St., 
S.  F.  Booth,  (VP),  S,  5"  Shotwell  St., 
Fred  R.  Cook,  C,  415  Market  St., 
Frank  D.  El  well,  3x6  California  St., 
Munro  Falkenstein,  300  Battery  St., 
H.  C.  Finkler,  (C,  P),  lai  Post  St.. 
Thos.  L.  Hill,  ITP,  146  Eddy  St., 
W.  M.  Meeker,  813  aist  sL, 
£.  Rideout,  804  Filbert  St. 

San  Jose:  {flttrden  City  B.  C,  Aug.  io,*84)» 
Lloyd  Moultrie,  L. 

San  Lonla  Obispo:  C.  G.  Hinds. 

Woodland:  Frank  Dieu. 


DOMINION  OF  CANADA. 


ONTARIO. 

BeUevllle:  {RambUrs  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. 

Brigliton:  R.  J.  Bowles,  wr,  wc. 

Tairfield:  Henry  E.  Ridley. 

Fort  WlUlam:  James  McLaren. 

Ooderloh:  {Q.  B.  C,  Apr., '83),  S.  M.  Lloyd. 

Hamilton:  {H.  B.  C,  Aug.  23,  '8x), 
A.  T.  Duncan,  B,  J.  A.  Robinson, 

Joe  H.Gitchell,(S-T),aL,  R.  H.  Skinner, 
W.  J.  Turner,  n,  Mountain  Top. 

Kincardins: 

F.  E.  Coombe,  wc,     H.  A.  Mclntoeh. 
Kingston:  {,K.  B  .C,  Aug.,  '83), 

Windsor  HoUl,  by  Martin  O'Brien, 

W.  H.  Coy,  S-T. 
lA  Clmte  Mills:  J.  E.  Ireland. 
iKmdon:    Aritl  Touring  Ctub.^  w,  (Aug.  9, 
'83),  Albion  Block, 

W.W.  Begg,(S),wc,    James  Lamb,  aL, 

G.  D.  Cameron,  (P),  Geo.  P.  LUley,  iL, 
W.  H.  Cooper,  John  McCarthy, 

J.  L.  Fitzgerald,         Chas.  E.  Monntjoy.B, 
Geo.  Forsythe,  J.  A.  Mulrhead. 

<>«w*/Cdy  AC.,w,Oct.,'8a, Victoria  B»ld*gs), 
A.  N.  Chiaholm,  aL,  William  Payne,* 
W.  K.  Evans,  wc,      W.  E.  Saunders. 

Vewmarkat:  J.  E.  Hughes. 


Ottawa:  {p.  B,  C,  Aug.  4,  '8a)i  w, 

F.  M.  S.  Jenkins,C,wc,S.  M.  Rogen,(a  L),  iL. 

G.  A.  Mothersill,  (P),  wcc. 
Port  Arthur:  C.  W.  Jarvis. 
Port  Elgin:  {P.  B.  B.  C),  w, 

Samuel  Roether,  S-T,  wk. 

St.  Mary's:  (St.  M.  B.  C),  w, 
C.  S.  Rumsey,  C,  wc. 

St.  Thomas:  {St.  T.  B.  C,  Aug.  14,  *8a),  w, 
Jas.  S.  Brierley,  (wcc),wP,    Wm.  Reeser, 
C.H.  HepsnsuU,C,wc,WK,    J.  J.  Teetzel.l 
Fred  L.  Howell, 

Bimcoe:  (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,wiu 

Thorold:  John  Dobbie,*WR. 

Toronto:  {T.B.C.,  Apr.x3,'8i ;  Adelaide  St.), 
A.  £.  Blogg,  S,  Chas.  Langley,  (iL), 

FredJ.Brimcr,xL,    R.H.McBride,(C,wP), 
N.  R.  Butcher,(S),      Hany  Ryrie,  (a  L),wi», 
P.E.I>ooHttle,(wVP),      Fred  J.  Sparling, 
W.  G.  Eakins,  C  A.  Tubby, 

A.  G.  Fiaser,  Robert  Tyson, 

C.E.Lailey,(T,VP.wR),A.F.Web8tcr,(C),P 
G.  H.  Orr,  iL,  (fVandertrs  B.  C.,Oct.,*8a). 

Whitbr:  C.  G.  K.  Noufse. 

Woodstock:  (W^.  B.  C),  Hany  Bictte,aL, 
Henry  Davidson,        S.  L.  McKay, 
J.  G.  Hay,  C.  W.  H.  Merritt, 

W.A.Kam,iL.wcc,   Jas.  S.  Parmenter. 


790 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


MANITOBA. 
Winnipeg:  {}V.  B.  C.\ 
W.  H.  Nourse,  (Buffalo,  N.  Y.). 

QUEBEC 
Montreal:  {^M.  B.  C,  Dec  3,  '78;  rooms, 
Buniside  Place),      J.  W.  Davis, 
A.T.  Lane,»WR,  J.D.  MUler,(S-T,VP),B,wR 
Chas.  Lyman,  o,     H.S.Tibb8,(P,wP,LCC). 

NEW  BRUNSWICK. 

Baekville:  A.  E.  Cosswell. 

St.  John:  {S^./.  B.  C),  J.  M.  Barnes, 
Charles  Coster,  aL,    Chas.  W.  McKee, 
W.  E.  Graham,  Geo.  W.  Robertson. 

NOVA  SCOTIA. 

Amhent:  A.  C  Casey, 
T.  Hodgson,*  Arthur  D.  Sharp. 

AnnapoliB: 
DommioH  HtUl^  by  A.  H.  Riordan, 
W.  M.  De  BIois.tTC,   Louis  A.  McKenna. 

Antigonish:  W.  H.  Buchanan,  pub.  ^wvro. 

Hallfez:  Halifax  Hotel,  by  H.  Hesslien, 
(Geo.  H.  Bayne),        A.  W.  CogsweU, 
H.  H.  Bell,  W.  Crowe, 

Wm.  M.  Black,  L.  I.  FuUer, 

J.  A.  Clark,  J.  J.  Hamm, 


J.  W.  Heckman,        Q-  B.  PattiDoX 

F.  D.  Hillis,  J.  Wiseman  Slain, 

G.  W.  Kent,t  Heibert  Temple, 
A.  J.  King,                W.  L.  Temple. 
Philip  H.  McGttire, 

Trnro:  {T.  B.  C), 
G.  H.  Blair,  S-T,        Wm.  J.  Mnnay. 
S.  W.  Cummings,       T.  S.  PattiUo,  C, 
Arch.  McCulloch,       T.  M.  Pattoo, 
Alf.  E.  McKenzie,      WiU.  H.  Renoie,  U 

Westville:  D.  R.  CanpbeU. 

WOTmonth:  ForbttJoMis  HoUl^C  BnniB. 

Windsor:   Victoria  HoUl,  by  T.  Donn, 
J.  Fred  Carrei,  C.  H.  Dimodu 

Tarmonth:  Arthur  W.  Eakina. 

BERMUDA. 

Hamilton:  Hamiltom  Hotel,  by  W.  Aiki^ 
F.  Lennock  GodeL 

St.  George'a: 
St.  George's  Hotel,  by  N.  Eacobd, 
Glo6e  Hotel,  by  A.  J.  Richardson. 

Smith*!:  Geoige  Tucker.f 

MEXICO. 
City  of  Mezioo:  {El  CM  Nacionei  Veloci- 
Pedieta,  1883), 
W.  S.  Locke,**  I^  Cinco  de  Mayo  No.  4- 


EUROPE,  ASIA  AND  AUSTRALIA. 


ENGLAND, 
Alhford  {Kent  C.  C):  H.  J.  Johnson,  C 
Bath:  James  Morgan,  26  Union  st. 
Beeaton:  Humber&Co.** 
Birmingham: 

John  Lauterbacfa,  338  New  John  St.,  w., 

Arthur  J.  Leeson,  Florence  Villa,  Albert 
rd.,  Aston,  sec.  Birek/Seld  B.  C, 

W.  J.  Spurrier,  3  Queengood  rd.,  Moseley. 
Bradford:  Day  &  Raisbeck,**  1  E.  Parade, 

A.  Famell,  51  Cross  Lane,  Great  Horton. 
Trizinghall:  G.  H.  Rushworth. 
Bristol:  Fred  W.  Brock,  Belle  Vue  House. 
Bromley  (/Cent):  Cameron  Swan,  Lauriston. 
Bnry:  John  Dewhurst,  31  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  (A^.  Wales)'.  R.  Gwen,  St.  David's 
Catford  HiU  {Kenf):  [rd. 

Charles  P.  Suley,  15  Exbury  rd. 


Cirenoeeter:  Geo.  Wm.  Gobey,  79  Gutle  sl 
Coventry:  (C.  C  C),  S.  Gokler,  65  Butts, 

Griffiths  ft  Co.,**  Priory  MiB, 

Henry  Sturmey,  is  SmithfordsL,ed.Or/n^. 
Croydon:  H.  R.  Hart,Beachley,Ghichester  rd. 
Derlyy  {Derbyshire^  Ben  HincbdiffeL 
Diss:  Edward  G.  Abbott.  Mere  st 
Doncaster:  F.  W.  Willbum,  Linden  View. 
Baling:  F.  Fry,  Wyvenhoe,  Castle  Bar  HflL 
Bastbonme  {Sussess\. 

L.  Adams,  Brooklyn  Hooae,  capl.  f .  B.  C, 

T.  Knight,  36  Terminus  rd., 

S.  Saker,  35  Terminus  rd. 
'B!DAA\ai{MiddU*exY 

Sidney  Chester  Foa  Bush  Hah  Puk. 
Qateshead-on-Tyne; 

James  Buchanan,  jr.,  3  Osborne  Terrace, 

Robert  Affleck,  10  Osborne  Terrace. 
Hatfield  {Herts^-.  John  Joseph  Hayes. 
HaTant:  H.  Martin  Green,  SoiUhbrook. 
High  Wycombe  {BtKksy. 

B.  Watson  Soper  (Londwater). 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


791 


KMWlek: 

A.  W.  Rumaey,  tcc,  («-«ec-  C.  U.  B.  C). 
Leeds:  J.  Ardill  &  Co.,**  St.  George's  W'ks. 
Leytonstoxie:  W.  W.  WUson. 
Liverpool:  A.  Alexander,  The  Gymnasium, 
John  Gabriel,  a  Priory  rd.,  Everton, 
Jas.  E.  Grant,  5  Parkfield  rd., 
W.  J.  Hughes,  123  Whitcficld  rd., 
J.  £.  Owens,  69  Sowther  .st.  (Crown  St.), 

bugler  of  Seftan  and  DingU  C.  C.  ; 

hon.  sec  and  treas.  o£   Liverpool  O- 

cU  Buglers'  Club, 
Jas.  A.  Sinclair,  55  Whitechapel. 
LUndywul  {S.  IVales):  David  J.  Evans. 
London:  Library  0/  the  British  Aftueu/M, 
Joseph  Badcock,  370  Victoria  Park  rd.,  e., 
Chas.  E.  Bawn,  418  Old  Ford  rd.,  e., 
G.W.Benneti,7i  St. Peter's  St., Mile  End,e., 
A.  M.  Bolton,  Penge  Lane,  Sydenham,  n., 
C.  W.  Brown,  2  Oak  ViUas,  Feycrn  Park, 
W.  E.  Clay,  66Tumpike  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.  W.  Kensington  T. 

C,  and  pub.  Tricycling  Jatimal^  The 

Grove,  Hammersmith,  w.,  also  6  Marl- 
borough rd.,  Bedford  Park,  w., 
Edward  Danell,  aa  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  IVheeling^ 

152  Fleet  St.,  e.  c, 
C.  J.  Fox,  ed-  Cycling  Times^  East  Temple 

Chambers,  Whitefriars  St.,  e.  c, 
G.Goodall.i  Everingrd.,  Stoke  Newington, 
H.  R.  Hart,  Chichester  rd.,  Croydon, 
Alfred  Hayes,  114  Maiden  rd.,  n.  w.,  capt 

H overstock  B.  C, 
Harry  Hayes,  97  Pemberton  rd.,  Kilbum 

Rise,  n.  w., 
Herbert  Hayes  and  William  Hayes,  2  Whit- 
•    tington  Terrace,  Highgate  Hill,  n.  w., 
Fred.  W.  Haynes,  12a  Albany  st  ,  Regent's 

Park,  hon.  sec.  Swallows  C.  C, 
W.  Honeyburo,  jr.,  204  Uxbridge  rd.,  Shep- 

ard's  Bush,  w., 
Mortimer  E.  O.  James,  xg  St.  Swithm's 

Lane,  e.  c, 


H.  Johnson,  10  Harvest  id.,  Holloway,  n., 
Edw.  J.  Jones,  116  Stoke  Newington  rd.,n., 
Harry  John  Jones,  19  Gillies  st.,  Kentish 

Town,  n.  w.,  {Haver stocky  B.  C), 
H.  A.  Judd,  ed.  H'keel  World,  98  Fleet  St., 
Thos.  Geo.  King,  1  Lancaster  rd..  Upper 

Tollington  Park,  n.,  i^Canonbury  B.C.), 
C.  R.  Kirkpatrick,  Wandsworth  Common, 
Alex.  Wm.  Leslie-Lickley,  43  Strathblaine 

rd.,  Wandsworth  Common, 
London  Cyde   Supply  Ass'n,**  57  Queen 

Victoria  St., 
Mason  &  Payne,**  41  Comhill,  c.  c., 
W.  E.  Milner,   47   Park  rd.,   Haverstock 

Hill,  n.  w.  {Belsize  B.  C), 
F.  Myers,  i  Tcsterton  st.,  Nolting  Hill,  w., 
Alfred  Nixon, (capt.  London  T.C.),  Beacon- 
dale,  Rockmont  rd., Central  HUl,Upper 

Norwood,  s.  e., 
J.  Foxlcy  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.  Phillips,t**  70  Chancery  Lane, 

(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,  Cheapside, 
Frank   Salsbury,  80  Albert  St.,  Regent's 

Park,  n.  w., 
F.  W.  Schnauber,  Spanish  Patriots,  White 

Conduit  St.,  Pentonville,  n.,  (Haver- 
stock B.  C), 
E.  R.  Shipton,  ed.  C.  T.  C.  Gazette,  139. 

140  Fleet  St.,  e.  c., 
Sigma  Smith,  Homsey,  n.,  (River  Cottage), 
H.  Spooner,  18  Royal  av.,  Chelsea,  s.  w., 
Surrey  Machinists   Co.,  **    "  Invincible  " 

Cyde  Works,  128-129  Gt.  Suffolk  st.. 

Borough,  s.  e., 
S.  H.  Swain,  193  Carlton  rd.,  Kilbom, 
E.  Tegetroeier,  /''ield  office,  346  Strand, 
James  Trigwell,**  49  Boston  PI.,  Dorset 

Square,  n.  w., 
Montagu  L.Troup,St.  Stephen's  Giib,  s.w., 
Henrv  T.  Whariow,  9  Nightingale  ViUas, 

Wood  Green, 


792 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE, 


J.  S.  Whatton  and  A.  B.  M.  Whatton,  9 
Somen  PI.,  Hyde  Park  Square, 

"  JVhttliMi"  Library,  15a  Fleet  at.,  e.  c, 

A.  J.  Wilson,  Poweracroft  House,  ClaptoD. 
Lntton,  Long  Sntton:  J.  W.  M.  Brown,  ic 
Maldanbaad:  Hickling  &  Co.,  39  King  st 
Manchester:  H.  R.  Goodwin,  6  Swan  st. 
Miifleld  {YorksY  John  Barker. 
HortUke  KSurrty)\ 

Edgar  J.  Sherriff,  tcc,  Holly  Hooae. 
Mnch  Wenlock:  H.  Griffiths,  The  Laurda. 
NewcMtlo-on-Tyne : 

D.  M.  M.  Dawson,  17  Warden  st. 
Newry:  J.Macknight,  26  Barrack  st 
If  orUuunpiton:G.  Hodgson  ,8  St.  Edmundsrd. 
North  Shields:  J.  R.  Hogg,  Union  St., 

Thos.  Robinson,  tcc,  36  Waterloo  PL 
Paignton:  Geo.  Soudon  Bridgeman. 
Pontypridd:  Morris  Bro8.,Wm.  M.  Morris. 
Portsmouth:  F.  J.  Samson,  36  Fleet  st 
Bedditoh: 

F.  H.  Warner,  C,  tcc,  Laburnum  Villa. 
Bomford  (Esux): 

Leopoki  Pierson,  Stanford  River. 
St.  HeUers  (fersty,  Ckann*!  IsianJs)\ 

C.  Metiver,  60  King  St.,  VP,/.  B.  *•  7".  C. 
Salford:  Walter  Binns,  335  Chapel  st 
Scarborough:  S.  Swinden,  70  Oxford  st 
Sheflield:  F.  Percy  Dickinson,  Farm  Bank. 
Sittingboume:  {S.  C.  C), 

Phil.  H.  Bishop,  Station  st 
South  Kilvington:  H.  P.  Mason. 
Stafford:  T.  S.  Nixon,  69  Marston  id. 
Stanford  Biyer: 

Leopold  Pierson,  The  Wayletter. 
Sydenham:  Alfred  Bolton,  Penge  Lane. 
Wandsworth  Common  {Sttrrey)\ 

Chas.   R.   Kirkpatrick,   Femhill,    Boling- 
broke  Grove, 

Alex.W.  LesHe-Lick1ey,43  Strathblaine  rd. 
Welwyn  {Hertfordakiny, 

W.  d»A.  CTX)fton,t  Hillside. 
Witham:  W.  H.  Moresby. 
York:  Thomas  Bouttell,  14  Feasegate, 

R.  E.  Burdekin,** 

F.  P.  Lambert,  5  St.  Clements  PL 

SCOTLAND. 
Aberdeen: 

W.  Kendall  Bumett,t  tcc,  123}  Union  st 
Dundee:  James  Ogilvie,  86  High  st 
Edinburgh:  W.Geo.01iver,9S.E.CircusPL, 

C.  P.  C.  Roques,  jr.,  16  George  st 
Pife:  John  Ramsay,  Balmalcolm,  Ladybank. 


Glasgow:  Hugh  Callan,  6  Wilton  Tei 
W.  T.  Logan,  7a  Buchanan  st 

Greenock:  {/AnutUur  B,  C), 
Robert  Allison,  43  £q>lanade» 
Robert  Dixon,  Dempster  st, 
Andrew  Forrest,  Faiimount,  40  Faphmrfa, 
John  Forrest,  C,  Fainnount,  40  Fjplaiade, 
Robert  C.  Robertson,  68  Union  st 

IRELAND. 
Callan:  Samuel  Potter,  Bank  of  Iidaad. 
Castlemartyr:  Wm.  BowIes,TC,  Spriqgfidd. 
Dublin:  John  Rowland,  30  Weadand  Row, 

J.  W.  Webster.  33  Geraldine,  Berkley  id., 

S.  Young,  43  Portland  Row. 
Limeriek:  Cohnan  O'Connell,  ]r. 
Tralee:  J.  G.  Hodgins,  Castle  st 

SWEDEN. 
Uddevalla:  Alban  Thorbum,  tc 

HOLLAND. 
Utredht:  C.  H.  Bingham,  tcc,  ptca.  N.V.  B. 

SWITZERLAND. 
St.  Oallen:  £.  T.  Edwards,  Zur  Ahen  Baak. 

FRANCE. 
Gaa  pies  Pau  {Bouts  Pyremes)z 

R.  Knowles,  tc 
Paris: 
A.  de  Banmcelli,  18  Rne  Roquepine,  ei. 
"Annuaire  de  la  Vdodp^die  Pi«ctM]iMi" 

ITALY. 


Adolpho  Schlegel,jr.,«ViaFilodrammatidl 

GERMANY. 
Berlin:  T.  H.  S.  Walker,Tcc,  18  KiaoKB  m^ 
editor  of  Der  Radfiakrer, 

AUSTRIA  (HUNGARY). 
Budapest:  L.  D.  Kostoviu,  tc 

RUSSIA. 
Koseow:  J.  Block,*  capt  M.  B.  C. 

TURKEY. 
Constantinople:    Chamber  ^  Ctmmmm 

Hotel,  William  V.  Shelton,  (Bey),  a 
Angora  (Asia  Minor):  HenryBimia,  a 

PERSIA. 
Teheran: 
Wm.  North,  o,  Indo-European  TeL  Oa 

JAPAN. 
Kioto:  D.  W.  Learaed,ta 


DIRECTORY  OF  WHEELMEN. 


793 


SOUTH  AUSTRALIA. 
Kortli  Adslaida:  (M  A.  B,  C,\ 
Albert  £.  Thuntoo,  S-T,  6  ConBeU  it 

QUEENSLAND. 
BrUbane:  {Brisbam  A  ma/tur  Cjfcimg  Cbtf^, 
Wm.  Johnson,  C,  91  Edwaxd  sL 

NEW  SOUTH  WALES. 
Goolbom:  Alfred  E.  Riley. 
Sydnoy:  {Sydney  BicycU  CluS), 

Geo.  L.  Budds,  253  Elizabeth  it» 

Junes  Copland,  85  Market  tt, 

W.  R.  George,  T, 

£.  H.  McRae,  S,  60  Wynward  Sq., 

Geoige  Martin.t  Cleveland  st. 

James  Martin,  pres.  "N.«S.  W.  Cyclists' 
Union,"  389  Geoige  St., 

F.  G.  Sloper,  Oxfoid  st. 

WMt  Sydney:  Jas.  F.  Rugg,  Kent  Breirery. 

VICTORIA. 
Ballant:  {B.  B.  6*  T.  C,  1879), 
T.  MUler,  H.  P.  Shimmin,  VC, 

G.  H.  Shimmin,         R.  A.  Thompson,  C. 
HunUton:  {H.  B.  C), 

Walter  G.  Farroll,  C,  11  Gray  St., 
H.  C.  Heales,  Colonial  Bank. 
Kalboima:  {M.  B,  C,  Aug.  15,  '78). 
W.   £.  Adams,  Lonsdale  st,  (hon.  sec 

Normamby  B.  C), 
H.  C  Bagot,  VC,  roo  Bourke  st,  w., 
Geo.  R.  Broadbent,  Crowle  Villa,  Fleming- 

ton  Bridge,  Hotham  Hill  (C,  B,  Bu- 

rwka  B,  C.\ 
Geo.  W.  Biirston,  C,  123  Flinders  st.,  e., 
E.  C.  Carter,  58  Rnssell  st, 

E.  Dangers,  156  Chapel  st  (Windsor),  (capt 

Piht  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  Trolle  St., 
W.  G.  Gilmour,  Collins  St.,  west,  (capt 

A/der/  B.  C), 
W.  S.  Haxleton,  T,  Whitehall  st., 
W.  H.  Lewis,  47  Queen  st.,  ed.  AmtraHan 

Cycling  Ntvos^ 

F.  Llewelyn,  60  Collins  St., 
Sandlllint:  (5*.  B.  C,  June  ai,  '80:   reor- 

ganized  as  S,  C.  C,  June  is,  '84),- 
W.  H.  Bradley,  Pall  Mall, 
A.  H.  Budden,  B,  WUliamstoo  at, 


John  Drisooll,  Honeysuckle  st, 

Melvin  £.  Gilbert,  Ooige  Terrace,  Bull  it, 

H.  V.  Howell,  C,  Bank  of  Australia, 

H.  Jullien,  (Sharing  Ooas, 

S.  Keam  &  (>>.,• 

S.  Lazarus,  West  End  Hall, 

J.  H.  Luke,  Police  Station, 

G.  A.  Miller,  S,  Kent  Brewery, 

W.  J.  Parry,  (C,S),  Kenfig  VUk,  Wilb  it, 

W.  H.  Simmons,  (Q,  Pall  Mall, 

D.  R.  Wilson,  Hargreaves  st, 

onus.  Woods,  Mitchell  st, 

W.  Wotherspoon,  Barnard  st. 

The  following  16  belong  to  the  RamNert 
B.  C.  (org.  Dec  ai,  '84),  and  the  final  4  to 
the  Ea^Mamk  Uniitd  B.  C.  The  whole  35 
were  pledged  for  the  list  by  the  energy  of  W. 
J.  Parry,  consul  of  the  Victorian  Cydista* 
Union,  one  of  the  earliest  enthusiasts  and  or- 
ganizers  of  cycling  in  the  city,  where  he  has 
resided  since  '75-  Sandhurst  is  too  m.  dis- 
tant from  Melbourne,  the  capital,  and  has  a 
population  of  about  35,000;  though,  as  late  as 
'53,  it  was  a  mere  camp  of  calico-tents  in  the 
wild  bush,  and  was  then  called  Bendigo  by 
the  gold-nuners  who  inhabited  them.  No 
city  of  the  same  size  in  America,  excepting 
Springfield  (founded  in  1636,  and  supplying 
7S  subscribers  to  this  book),  has  given  any- 
thing like  as  liberal  a  support  to  my  scheme ; 
and  00  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  city  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.  558-70)- 

D.  Anderson,  Viewpoint, 

Richard  Andrews,  Golden  Square, 

R.  W.  Brown,  S,  Bull  st, 

T.  Case  Brown,  Crystal  Palace,  Piall  Mall« 

Guy  C^rwardine,  Charlston  rd., 

H.  S.  Oirwardine,  Charlston  rd., 

Hugh  C^rwardine,  (Charlston  rd., 

Robert  Dare,  Viewpoint, 

Cnias.  J.  Davis,  Kangaroo  Flat, 

A.  G.  Dayroond,  Viewpoint, 

C.  Hosking,  aB,  Olindast, 

Hutchinson  &  Myers,  Mitchell  st. 


794 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


J.  H.  Knight,  Myers  tt., 
J.  Okey,  C,  Kangaroo  Flat, 
£.  V.  Stephens,  Kangaroo  Flat, 
W.  E.  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  Langrst 

Warmambool:  {W.  C.  C), 

Warmambool  Mechanic}^  Inst.  Library ^ 

F.  W.  Briggs,  S,         A.  J.  Foote, 
D.  Ceamond,  J.  S.  Mack, 

R.  J.  Davokins,  E.  White,  C,B. 

TASMANIA. 
Hobart:  {MarmUm  C.  C,  1883), 
A.  Adcock,  Hampden  rd., 
J.  Andrews,  Hill  si., 

G.  A.  Arming,  (Q,  Liverpool  &  Harrington 
Chas.  Barlow,  B,  Coolley's  Hotel,       [sts., 
Roland  A.  Bi5hop,*(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.  Wherrett,  New  Town. 

NEW  ZEALAND. 
AuckUuid:  {A.  B.  C,  Nov.,  »8i). 


Will  Beswick,  C, 

J.  M.  Cbamben,  (S-T  WaiUmata  B.  C.\ 

J.  Fitton,  35  Grey  St., 

Service  &  Fitton,**  35  Grey  si-, 

A.  Wiseman,  L. 
Christchtircll:  {Pumeer  B.  C,  April,  1S79), 

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  si., 

[J.  Foxley  Norris,  2a6  Hereford  st.  (S,  T, 
New  Zealand  CycHsts*  AllianceX  Re- 
turned in  i88s  to  London  (i  Wenlock 
St.,  Hoxton)], 

J.  W.  Paintef,  Church  rd.,  St.  Albans, 

A.  E.  Preece,*  sub.  C,  Cyclists*  Ezchaafe. 
Dnnedin:  (Z>.  C.  C,  Aug.,  »79)» 

Edgar  Hine  Bum,      William  Crow. 
Ounara:  {iVortk  Otago  C.  C,  1881), 

Kenneth  Bain,  S, 

W.  L.  Butt,  Ure  St., 

L.  P.  Christeson,  Thamesst., 

F.  Cottrell,  Thames  St., 

F.  J.  Forbes,  North  School  St., 

Douglas  G.  Moore,  Union  Bank, 

H.  Snow,  C,  Borough  Engineer's  office. 
WeUington:  {i*^.  eyelids'  ^«s'«,  Oct.,'81), 

David  W.  M.  Bum. 


SUPPLEMENTARY  LIST  OF  SUBSCRIBERS. 

After  the  main  list  (Chap.  39)  was  electrotyped.  the  following  200  subs,  were  enroOed,— 
three-fourths  of  them  during  the  two  months  ending  Apr.  24,  '86.  The  price  was  then  ad- 
vanced to  $[.50,  and  Nos.  3520  to  3571  were  pledged  at  that  rate,  during  the  next  six  months. 
Almost  all  the  names  up  to  No.  3500  may  be  found  in  the  geographical  directory  just  preceding. 


Abbott,  C.  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3415 

Amerman,  W.  I.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3478 

Balderston,  O.  H.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3469 

Baltimore  Cycle  Club^  Baltimore,  Md.  3413 

Barker,  C.  L.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  35x5 

Barkman,  A.  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3502 

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.  3412 

Belmont  Hotels  Gloucester,  Mass.  3519 

Benedict,  Chas.  M.,  New  York.  344a 

Bennett,  A.  A.,  Cincinnati,  O.  3503-4 

Bingham,  F.  L.,  New  York.  3421 

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 

Brace,  Jas.  P.,  Vicksburg,  Mist.  3490 

Burkhart,  H.  Z.,  Hailcy.  Id.  3407 
Butler  Univ.  Library ^  Irvington,  Ind.    3S25 

Byron,  S.  H.,  New  York.  3443 

Campbell,  A.  H.,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  3548 

Carley  Honse^  Schenectady,  N.  Y.  34S9 
Case,  Clias.  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 


SUPPLEMENTARY  U&T  OF  SUBSCRIBERS. 


79S 


Clifford,  Joe  E.,  Grand  Forks,  Dak.  3494 

Cochrane,  H.  D.,  New  York.  342a 

,  Coffin,  Edwin  C,  Halley,  Id.  3394 

Collamer,  N.  L.,  Washington,  D.  C.  3564 

Collis,  Geo.  W.,  Morristown,  N.  J.  3414 
Conndl,  Maurice,  West  Springfield,  Ms.  3369 

Cooney,  R.  L.,  Atfanta,  Ga.  3570 

Cooper,  jr.,  Jas.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  3531 

Cordingley,  jr.,  Chas.,  London,  Eng.  3360 

CoBsins,  E.  R.,  London,  Eng.  3538 
Crenshaw,  jr.,  A.  P., Washington,  D.  C.  3500 

Criichlow,  J.  M.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  3377 

Crocker  House t  New  London,  Ct.  3541 

Curtis,  Atherton,  New  York.  3444 

Curtis,  G.  S.,  New  York.  3423 

Darrow,  P.  C,  Indianapolis,  Ind.  3547 

Davidson,  J.  E.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3417 

Davis,  Chas.,  Hobart,  Tas.  3561 
Davis,  Fred  M.,  Madison,  Wis.           3565-6 

Dawson,  Sam.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  3381 

Detroit  PvUie  Library^  Detroit,  Mich.  3540 

DilUngham,  W.  C,  E.  Cambridge,  Ms.  3373 

Doane,  W.  S.,  Dorchester,  Mass.  3384 

Dunlap,  Geo.  E.,  New  York.  3459 

Dutcher,  Wm.,  New  York.  3424 

Edwards,  W.  D.,  New  York.  3425 

Exchange  Hotel,  Lehighton,  Pa.  3536 

Field,  C.  A.,  Norfolk,  Va.  3419 

Eraser,  Ed.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  3528 

Frisbie,  G.  B..  New  York.  3445 

Gallien,  Henry,  Albany,  N.  Y.  3482 

Gay,  L.  W.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.  340a 

Gibson,  J.  W.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  3571 

Goodman,  Heniy,  Hartford,  Ct.  3481 

Gulick,  Jas.  G.,  New  York.  3446 

Hailey  Hotel,  Hailey,  Id.  3406 

Halstead,  E.  J.,  New  York.  3426 

Hammond,  J.  H.,  St.  Paul,  Minn.  35sa 

Handlen,  Frank  B.,  New  York.  3447 

Hardy,  W.  B.,  Washington,  D.  C.  3501 

Harris,  C  M.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  3529 

Hartley,  W.  G.,  Kingston,  Tenn.  3569 

Hawthorne,  The,  Brookline,  Mass.  3542 

Henry,  Patrick,  Vicksburg,  Miss.  3512 

Hill,  E.  F.,  Tittsfield,  Mass.  3513 

Hill,  Geo.  A.,  New  York.  3427 
Holland,  Lincoln,  Worce8ter,Maa8.  3508-3511 

Hotel  Rennert,  Baltimore,  Md.  3472 
Howe  (Miss)  Jennie  M.,  Springfield,  Ms.  3370 

Howell,  W.  E.,  New  York.  3448 

Howland,  Chas.  H.,  Providence,  R.  I.  3551 

Hubbard,  Louis  B.,  Hartford,  Ct  3522 

Ifubbard,  W.  H.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  3375 


HndsoM  Bicycle  CbA,  Hudson,  N.  Y.  3493 
IntemationU HoLl,  Niagara  Falls,  N.Y.  3498 

Ives,  Fred  D.,  New  York.  3372 

Johnson,  J.  W.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3378 
Johnson,  L.  H.,  East  Orange,  N.  J.    3483-8 

Jones,  Harry  S.,  New  York.  3463 

Jones,  P.  S.,  New  York.  3428 

Judd,  Edwin  Y.,  Hartford,  Ct.  3520 

Keiper,  Scott,  Hailey,  Id.  3409 

Keyser,  N.  A.  S.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3470 

Knowles,  A.  A.,  New  York.  3429 

Knox,  Robt.  J.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3473 

Lane,  jr.,  Geo.,  New  York.  3430 

Latham,  Calhoun,  Bridgeport,  Ct.  3563 

Lefferts,  J.  A.,  New  York.  3431 

Leggett,  C.  H.,  New  York.  343a 

Leigh,  Will  H.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  3379 

Livermore,  F.  H.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3516 

Lockwood,  jr.,  R.  M.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3418 

Loucks,  F.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3474 

Losier,  A.  W.,  New  York.  3449 

McCloud,  J.  A.,  Hailey,  Id.  3398 

McCurdy,  I.  P.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  3556 

Magill,  S.  E.,  Athens,  Tenn.  3545 

MeutsioH  House,  Greenfield,  Mass.  3526 
Mttryland  Bicycle  Club,  Baltimore,  Md.  3404 

Mass.  State  Library,  IV^ston,  Mass.  3388 

Meeker,  F.  H.,  Brofl*     1,  N.  Y.  3479 

Merchant^  Hotel,  Hailey,  Id.  3405 

Midgley,  Thos.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  3374 

Mi/ford  IVheel  Club,  Milford,  Mass.  3544 

Millard,  J.  A.,  Dinard  les  Baines,  Fr.  3533 

Miller,  J.  D.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3477 

MilHkin,  Wm.  H.,  Plainfield,  N.  J.  3535 

Morrison,  jr.,  E.  A.,  New  York.  3450 

Moss,  W.  F.,  Thomasville,  Ga.  3390 
Mumford,  W.  B.,  Adrian,  Mich.         3522-23 

Muns,  R.  W.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  3475 

Nichols,  Chas.  E.,  Mt.  Yemon,  N.  Y.  3389 

Nightingale,  John,  New  York.  3451 

Overland  Hotel,  Bois^  City,  Id.  3411 

Parker,  John  M.,  New  Orleans,  La.  3387 

Perkins,  W.  H.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3468 

Phelps,  W.  C,  New  York-  3433 

Phillips,  jr.,  F.  A.,  New  York.  3435 

Potter,  B.  W.,  Worcester,  Mass.  3562 

Powers,  jr.,  J.  W.,  New  York.  3436 

Price,  Lyttleton,  Hailey,  Id.  3400 

Rauchfuss,  A.,  New  York.  3437 

Reagan,  P.  A.,  Hailey,  Id.  3410 

*'  Recreation**  Pub.  of,  Newark,  N.  J.  3550 

Red  Lion  Inn,  West  Randolph,  Yt.  3532 

Reilly,  P.  Harvard,  New  York.  3465 


796 


TEN  THOUSAND  MILES  ON  A  BICYCLE. 


Robbins,  J.  N.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3517 
Robinson  &  Co.,  C, Toronto,  Out.  3539(3543 

Rockwell,  F,  S.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  3527 

Ruick,  Nonnan  N.,  Hailey,  Id.  3399 

Ryer,  F.  A.,  New  York.  3438 

Sackett,  C.  P.,  New  York.  3439 

Schachtel,  jr.,  M.,  New  York.  3403 
Schott,  W.  C,  Ft.  Leavenworth,  Kan.    3561 

Selwyn,  Chas.  J.>  Hailey,  Id.  3397 
Shelton,  W.  V.,  Constantinople,  Turkey.  339a 

Sheriden,  W.  H.,  Pittsfield,  Mass.  3514 

Simpson,  Jas.,  New  York.  345a 

Simpson,  S.  W.,  New  York.  3453 

Slee,  N.  T.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3466 

Sloan,  Henry  C,  Sinclairville,  N.  Y.  3456 

Small,  W.  A.,  Dexter,  Me.  3385 

Sneeden,  R.  H.,  Red  Bank,  N.  J.  3530 

Snyder,  A.  F.,  Weissport,  Pa.  3537 

Spalding  &  Bro.,  A.  G.,  New  York.  3505-6 

Steiner,  A.,  New  York.  3440 

Stratton,  T.  C,  New  York.  3460 

Swartout,  A.  E.,  Auburn,  N.  Y.  3553-4 

Taylor,  John  W.,  Baltimore,  Md.  3467 


Terhane,  Chas.  F.,  New  York.  3461 

Thompson  Engraving  Co., Camden,  N.J.  35a« 
Tinker,  Fred  B.,  HaUey,  Id.  340! 

Totten,  R,  J.,  New  Wilmington,  Pa.       3559 


Tracy,  John  J.,  Hailey,  Id. 
Tracy,  W.  C,  Rockvillc,  Ct. 
Tuck,  Fred  B.,  Kingston,  N.  H. 
Upson,  Wm.  F.,  New  York. 
Valentine,  E.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
WaikingioH  HoUl,  Vicksbuig, 


3196 
3Si» 

3567 
S454 
348- 
349« 

Weuhingtan  Houti^  Bordeotown,  N.  J.  3546 
Watt,  Wm.  H.,  HaUey,  Id.  3395 

Weber,  L.  I.,  Brooklyn,  N,  Y.  3476 

Whysall,  Geo.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  3378 

Wickersham,  J.  £.,  Beaver  Falls,  Pa.  338a 
WiUard's  Hotel,  Washington,  D.  C.  3499 
Wifubor  HeUl,  Holyoke,  Mass.  3507 

Wood,  John  S. ,  New  York.  3455 

Weed  River  Bi.  CbA,  Hailey,  Id.  3401 

Worth  Hottse,  Hudson,  N.  Y.  349> 

Yopp,  Jas.  L.,  Wilmington,  N.  C  3391 

Young,  Geo.  E.,  Liverpool,  Et^,  3557-8 

YuengUng,  W.  J.,  New  York*  3460 


TRADE  DIRECTORY. 


Copies  of  this  book  may  be  consulted  or  purchased  at  the  offices  of  the  following  subscril^ 
ers.  The  (*)  designates  those  who  are  either  authors,  editors,  publishers  or  booksellen: 
and  nearly  all  the  others  are  dealers  in  cycles,  or  selling-agents  for  the  same.  I  have  found  it 
impracticable  to  particularize  each  man's  business,  as  originally  intended,  though  I  give  many 
exact  addresses  and  other  details  in  the  geographical  list  which  follows  the  next  page.  If  any 
subscriber  will  report  to  me,  within  a  month  after  recei^ng  the  book,  that  he  is  so  dissatisfied 
with  this  "  directory  "  as  to  regret  having  agreed  to  support  it,  I  will  refund  any  money 
which  he  may  have  paid  me,  and  will  at  the  same  time  send  to  him  some  stamped  labels  by 
which  he  may  mail  the  books  to  later  purchasers. 


Aaron,*  E.  M.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Aldrich,  Jas.,  Spencer,  Mass. 
Amee  Brothers,*  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Angell,  Jos.  P.,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark. 
Ardill  &  Co.,  J.,  Leeds,  En^. 
Bardeen,*  C.  W.,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Barkman,*  A.  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y, 
Barnes  &  Davis,  Salt  Lake  City.  Uuh. 
Batchelder,*  C.  D.,  Lancaster,  N.  H. 
Beers  &  Co.,*  J.  B.,  36  Vesey  St.,  New  York. 
Bennett,  A.  A.,  14  W.  4th  St.,  Cincinnati,  O. 
Bicycling  World  Co.,*  Boston,  Mass. 
Bidwell,  G.  R.,  358  W.  58th  St.,  New  York. 
Biederman,  Chas.,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 
Block,  J.,  Moscow,  Russia. 
Bradley,  Co.,* The  Milton,  Springfield,  Mass. 
Bowen,  E.  N.,  Bu£Ealo.  N.  Y. 
Burdekin,  R.  E.,  York,  Bug: 


Burdett,  J.  B.,  Nashville,  Tenn. 

Central  Press  &  Publishing  Co.,*  la  Vesey 

St.,  New  York  (pub.  WJieel,  $a). 
Childs,  A.  W.,  Brattleboro.  Vt 
Chinn,  Geo.,  Beverly,  Mass. 
Clark  &  Co.,  S.  T.,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Uayton,  G.  O.,  Aurora,  111. 
Colton  &  Co.,*  G.  W.  &  C.  B..  i8a  Wiffiw 

St.,  New  York  (map  pubtishers). 
Cordingley,*  Chas.,  London,  Emg", 
Corson,*  E.  H.,  Rochester,  N.  H. 
Dalton,*  J.  G.,  Boston,  Mass. 
Davis,  Frank  M.,  Madison,  Wis. 
Day  &  Raisbeck,  Bradford,  Er^. 
Deans,  F.  A.,  Wellsboro,  Pa. 
Donly,*  H.  B.,  Simooe,  Out. 
Ducker  &  Goodman,*  Hartloid,  CL 
DuffiU,  Thos.  P.,  Gt.  Falls,  N.  H. 


TRADE  DIRECTORY. 


797 


Edgarton,  C  W.,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind. 

Edmans,  Fr«d  P.,  Troy,  N.  Y. 

Eliis,  C  B.,  Kansas  City,  Mo. 

Etherington,*  Harry,  London,  Bng, 

Fielding,  F.  A.,  Bozeman,  Mont. 

Ftrut  6*  Strtam  Pub.  Co.,  New  York. 

Fox,*  C.  J.,  London,  Eng, 

Gibson,*  J.  W.,  San  Fnndcco,  CaL 

Gibson  &  Hart.  Rockford,  III. 

Gideon,  Geo.  D.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Gill,*  J.  D.,  Springfield,  Mass. 

Gillett,  M.  D.,  Springfield,  Masa. 

Gonnully  &  Jeffery,  Chicago,  IlL 

Griffiths  &  Co.,  Coventry,  Emg. 

Gump,  A.  W.,  Dayton,  O. 

Hananer  &  Myers,  Covington,  Ky. 

Harder.  J.  E.,  Clearfield,  Pa. 

Han  &  Co.,*  £.  Stanley,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Hart,  H.  B.,  811  Arch  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Heath,  S.  F.,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

Hebard,  F.  S.,  Cheyenne,  Wyo. 

Hill  &  Tolman,  Worcester,  Mass. 

Hodgson,  T.,  Amherst,  N,  S. 

HoUand,*  Lincoln,  Worcester,  Mass. 

HoUister  &  Merrill,  Portland,  Or. 

Huber  &  Allison,  LouisviHe,  Ky. 

Hnmber  &  Ca,  Beeston,  Etig^. 

Ideal  Pen  Co.,  155  Broadway,  New  Yoric 

Ingram,  T.  L.,  Columbus,  Ga. 

Irwin,  W.  R.,  Emporia,  Kan. 

Jarvis  H.,  Oxford,  Md. 

Jenkins,Fred,  32a  W.  59th  8t.,N.Y.<c]rdom.). 

Jennings,*  A.  F.,  Springfield,  Mass. 

Johnson,  L.  H.,  East  Orange,  N.  J. 

Joalin.  J.  T.,  Newburgh,  N.  Y. 

Jndd,*  H.  A.,  London,  Bnf^ 

Kirkpatrick,*  T.  J.,  Springfield,  O. 

Koch  Bros.,  Peoria,  III. 

Kolph,  A.  J.,  Scranton,  Pa. 

Lakin  &  Co.,  J.  A.,  Westfield,  Ms.  (cydon.). 

Lamson,  C.  H..  Portland,  Me. 

Lane,  A.  T.,  Montreal,  P.  Q. 

Lanier,  H.  ft  F.,  West  Point,  Ga. 

Latta  Bros.,  Friendship,  N.  Y. 

Leve  &  Alden,  207  Broadway,  New  York. 

Lewis,*  W.  H.,  Melboume,yict,^M/>«/««. 

Lillibridge,  Freeman,  Rockford,  Til.  (saddles). 

Locke,  W.  S.,  City  of  Mexico,  Mex. 

London  Cyde  Supply  Ass'n,  London,  Bng, 

McComas,  W.  E.,  Hagerstown,  Md. 

Malvern,  Frank,  Port  Jervis,  N.  Y. 

IfaMm,  Elliott,  la  Warren  St.,  New  Yoilc. 

Mason  ft  Payne,*  London,  Em£» 


Modd,  Frank  X.,  Mon^omery,  Ala. 

Mumford,  W.  B.,  Adrian,  Mich. 

New  York  Toy  Co.,  14  Howard  St.,  N.  Y. 

Nixon,  W.  G.,  Charobersburg,  Pa. 

Normecutt  &  Co.,  J.  £.,  Pittsbuig,  Pa. 

Norris,  Will  E.,  Helena,  Mont. 

Patton,  Geo.  E.,  Chatham,  N.  Y. 

Payne,  Wm.,  London,  Ont. 

Philip  ft  Son,*  Geo.,  London,  Eng. 

Phillips,*  Robt.  E,  London,  Eng. 

Pittsbuig  Fire  Arms  Co.,  Pittsburg,  Pa. 

Pope  Mfg.  Co.,  Boston  (79  Franklin  at), 
Chicago  (391  Wabash  av.),Hartford  (Weed 
S.  M.Co.),aud  New  Yorii  (13  Warren  stX 

POrter  &  Baker,  Bay  City,  Mich. 

Probst  ft  Fisbeck,  Terre  Haute,  Ind. 

Rayl  ft  Co.,  T.  B.,  Detroit,  Mich. 

Read,  (Seo.  T.,  Belfast,  Me. 

"Rtcrwatwn**^  Publishers  of,  Newark,  N.  J. 

Ribble,  <3eo.  W.,  Harrisonburg,  Va. 

Robinson  ft  Co.,  Chas.,  Toronto,  Oni, 

Rogers,*  J.  S.,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Rose,*  WiU,  Ashroore,  111. 

Rouse  ft  Son,  G.  W.,  Peoria,  III 

Rust,  T.  S.,  Meriden,  Ct. 

Scherer,  C.  J.,  Memphis,  Teim. 

Schlegel,  jr.,  Adolpho,  Milan,  Itafy, 

Schwalbach,  Chas.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Service  ft  Fitton,  Auckland,  N.  Z. 

Shipton,*  E.  R.,  London,  Eng. 

Smith  ft  Co.,  Howard  A.,  Newark,  N.  J. 

Smith,  C.  F.,  Indianapolis,  Ind. 

Smith,  J.  C.  v.,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Smith  Mach.  Co.,  H.  B.,  Smithville,  N.  J. 

Smuh,  Robt.  A.,  New  Haven,  Ct. 

Spalding  ft  Bro.,  A.  G.,  Chicago  and  N.  Y. 

SpringfieM  Printing  Co.,*  Springfield,  UmL 

Sturmey,*  Henry,  Coventry,  Eug* 

Surrey  Machinist  Co.,  London,  Et^, 

Swartout,  A.  E.,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

Terhune  ft  Co.,  C  F.,  89  Liberty  St.,  N.  Y. 

Hcknor  ft  Co.,*  Boston,  Mass. 

Trigwell,  Jas.,  49  Boston  pi.,  London,  Eng, 

Wady,  C.  S.,  Fall  River,  Mass. 

Wabwright,  L.  M.,  Noblesville,  Ind. 

Walker  ft  Co..*  (}eo.  H.,  Boston,  Maat. 

Walker,*  T.  H.  S.,  Berlin,  Gtr. 

Webber,  jr.,*  J.  S.,  Gloucester,  Maat. 

Weed  S.  M.  Co.,  Hartford,  Ct 

Weston,*  Frank  W.,  Boston,  Mass. 

Wilkinson  Cb.,  The  John,  Chicago,  VSL 

Voorhees,  jr.,  G.  E.,  Morristown,  N.  J. 

Young,*  Geo.  E,  Liverpool,  Emg. 


XLI. 

THE  LAST  WORD. 

fMy  response  in  behalf  of  *'The  Unattached/'  chanted  after  the 
fashion  of  The  Boatswain  in  **  Pinafore,"  at  the  conclusion  of  the  first 
annual  banquet  of  the  League  of  American  Wheelmen,  Aquidneck  House* 
Newport,  R.  I.,  Monday  evening,  May  31,  1880.] 

For  he   himself    has  said  it, 

And  it's  greatly  to  his  credit. 

That    he    is    a    Hi-cy-cler/ 
That   he   is   a    B i -  cy  -  cl'rr  \ 

For  he  might  have  played  at  base -ball, 

Or  at  ten-nis,   or  at  foot -ball, 

Or    per-haps    at    po-lo! 
O  r  p  er  '  hap  s   at  po-lo/ 

But,  in  spite  of    all   temptations. 

Towards  other  recreations, 

He   remains   a    B  i-ey-ChEKl 
He   remains    a    Bi-cy-cleri 


BuMHryii.  yiteto4  aU  taM«  ly  iM  Svawwiiw  rawtia*  C«Mr*a¥,  Jm.,  Uti,  it  Afr^  tmt. 


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