The Billings herald. [volume] (Billings, Mont.) 1882-1885, 1884-08-02
BEECHER'S WILD RIDE.
The Experiences of the Plymouth Pastor
on an Untamed Tricycle..

y
an adept on the tricycle.. He is the
happy owner of a cycle of extra
size, on which he cavorts down the
hills near his residence. Owing to
constitutional heavy facts, the great
preacher does not ride up hill, mol
does he move with startling speed
on the level road; but take him 60.
ing down hill and Maud S. would
90 into a hysterical fit at the sight
of such velocity. Whenever the
neighbors, who live on Mr.. Beecher's
pet hill, hear a rush and a rattle
and see yard of hair floating in
the dust, they do not become
frightened, as formerly. They
know that the Rev. Mr.. Beecher is
on his three-wheeled steed, bound
for the bottom Of the hill. Mr..
Beecher does not care to talk much
about his first experience on his
tricycle., but your correspondent
happened to be fortunate enough
to be one of the party who listened
to the story from his own lips,
which were constantly smiling at
the thought of the figure he cut at
the time. It seems that the old
gentleman was the victim of an ex-
tremely practical joke. His son,
with other gentlemen friends,
thought that tricyle would be a
welcome addition to the stable of
the house, and they asked friend
in the vicinity who owned one to
call at the house and infatuate the
great divine with his easy move
ment and speed. The friend did
as requested, and the conspirators
dilated on the adaptability of the
carriage to stout elderly gentlemen
of Mr.. Beecher's build. 1t did not
take much persuasion, as Mr..
Beecher viewed the machine with
delight, and even after its depar-
ture he talked in raptures of the
tricycle.. and expressed his deter
mination Of buying one. Young
MIR. Beecher kindly took upon him
self the task of making the purchase.
The tricycle. was brought forth,
and it was a noble one. Mr..
Beecher sat on the seat and filled it
with credit to himself. The cycle
groaned mite, as if its punish
ment was greater than it could bear.
Mr.. Beecher bore down on the
treadles, but the machine replied
with a grunt and refused to bulge.
All the family and several Of the
neighbors and invited guests were
present. Half dozen small boys,
unlimited guests, were also present,
and the snicker that greeted MIR.
Beecher's failure could be easily
traced to this source.
"Try again father said the duti-
full son.
The sickliest smile ever seen up
on the face of Mr.. Beecher spread
over that expanse. He bent for
ward with all his might, but the
only effect was another groan from
the tricycle. more pronounced than
before. Another snicker from the
BOYS and polite hiding of faces in
pocket handkerchiefs were more
than Mr.. Beecher could sit out, and
with little joke about hitching a
horse to the tricycle. he dismounted
w have never been beaten yet,'
said Mr.. Bcecher, "and l don't in.
tend to begin at this late day"
Young Mr.. Beecher rode the ma
chine to the brow of the nearest
hill, and the Rev. Henry Ward
walked behind, with the rest of the
party. The hill is a fine one, and
will be easily recalled by all who
have ever been in Peeksville by the
large clump of trees at the right Of
the road in which stands monster
oak. Arrived at the summit, the
original Beecher again mounted his
balky steed, and told all hands to
stand back. His son gave the 'cyclt
a vigorous push, and off she went
gathering increased momentum a
every revolution: Mr.. Beecher''
hat came flying back to the starting
point. He himself was too busy
to notice such a trifle, having mor'
important business at that momen
in an honest endeavor to stop in hi
downward career. His hair stream
ing out behind, with his horizonta
coat-tails as stiff as a plank; hi
ewes protruding in such a manne
that they could have been knocked
off with a stick; and his hand
grasping the sides of the carriage
and the plunging, whizzing tricyc!
made picture which the native
who saw it will never forget. Their
is a sharp curve in that hill at TIL
red gate which shuts off the road t.
the ice pond. Farmer Thompson
stood there and looked up the hill
| in wonder at the coming meteo
with it's clowd of meteoric dust be
hind. His first impulse was t.
throw log in the way. If he hae
| carried out that design Plymotl
church would have been called up
on to mourn the untimely fate 0
it's pastor. AS the tricycle. hastenet
to pass the farmer Mr.. Thompson
saw what the trouble was. SO dlt
his dog, which Immediately joinee
in the chase, adding music to tn
"merry-go-down." Like most hill
this particular inclined plane has I
bottom and it came none too quick
1ly for the lightning divine. Tn
sigh he heaved as he struck leve
ground was plainly heard in tn