The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1885-06-05
so Miles ON n Bicycle.

4 10. ibtCI nit III DlId4EbOH a. IDO GlOCh.
'All right, good bye" Good bye"
Thus over the telephone wire was a pre-
vious arrangement ratified between we
editor and the bicycle veteran, Thomas T..
Somers, of Melville. on Friday last. In
accordance with the programme, notwith-
standing lowering skies On Saturday morn
ing, the editor mounted his trusty Stan
dard Columbia in light marching order
and HE'D him away for the holiday, out
through the Woodstown street, over the
Newtown Hill and by the level stretch
over narrow foot-path and dusty ruts till
the long incline freshly plowed by the over
seer of the highways, in front of C.. II.
Richman's well kept farm, compelled a dis
mount and a halt of twenty minutes, made
pleasant by a chat with friend Richman.
who was building fence by the roadside and
who told us many things we did not know
before. Then trudging along to the brow
Of the hill, another mount and an unin-
terrupted ride over the road to Daretown
until the Baptist church was reached and
another hill, where pity for our steed COM
PEELED lis to get down and walk. ''The
merciful man is merciful to his beast is a
scriptural saying Which the bicycler often
puts in practice. Reaching the top of the
hill we halted awhile for friendly CONVERSE
ton with Mr.. Archer, who there resides,
and by us passed. on their way from
Bridgeton, three wheelnlen, who sought re-
creation at Woodstown. We exchanged
salutations as they sped by as wheelmen
do, and mounting our tired but unwearied
steed o gat us to Daretown by the new
store, where johnson in vain invited us to
stop, by the station where Foster standing
in the door, asked us whittier bound and re-
ceived for answer Europe" on by Col
sons big barn and well titled acres and
then an amending panorama of comfortable
farm houses, waving grass, broad corn
fields with the brown surface of the soil
checkered with the delicate blades but
newly sprung from the seed which the
farmer, with that constant faith so neces-
sary to his occupation, had lately commit
ted to the broad bosom of mother earth.
through the pleasant village of Deerfield,
by the old stone church, i'll hose yard
sleep beneath ~moss-grown stones the dead
of many generations. Out to the hills be-
You'd where, with legs over the handle-bar
of the wheel. we coaSted down the smooth
surface and then with steady tread and
hardly a long breath went up the other
side and at 1890 Bridgeton was reached,
and, as we rode down the broad street
leading into the town, we deserted. afar off.
the familiar uniform and glittering wheel of
friend Somers coming to meet us. Saluta-
tions exchanged, a half hours business
transacted in Bridgeton, up and away for
Millville. receiving for a send-Off, as we
pass the East Lake causeway, a shower of
rain, which makes us feel anything but
comfortable for the ten miles of turnpike
intervening between Us and our destination
and which makes the road somewhat soft
for speedy riding: bat a little after IL
o'clock sees us comfortably domiciled,
with dry raiment and appetite %abundantly
satisfied, under the hospitable roof of Mr..
Aaron Riley.
4 pleasant season of rest and converse
ton, and the sound of music brings us to
the street. The Grand Army Posts, with
Golden Eagle and other organizations.
wagons loaded with bright-faced children
in holiday attire, and patriotic emblems.
with fife and drum corps and music ga
lore are marching down the street on their
way to decorate with fairest flowers the
graves of the patriot dead who gave their
lives that the Republic might live. As we
gazed upon the veterans marching steadily
to the sound of music, which in the past
had led them to conflict, but now each with
flowers in the hand which erstwhile had
grasped a musket, many of them with the
sears upon them which told of battles upon
hard fought fields, our thoughts went back
to the time. all too sadly fresh to the men,
DRY, when the brave boys went forth to do
battle for their country. to the days of suf-
fering and death. of stricken households
and breaking hearts, of loved ones vanish
ing from our sight never to return-the
DAYS when the Union was cemented by the
best blood of the nation poured forth as
water. All honor to the heroic dead; to
them be given flowers of sweetest fragrance
and tears of warmest gratitude. And all
honor to the survivors of the cruel conflict
who pass in and out among us so quietly
and modestly that we almost forget at
times that in the person OF these brave men
were the bulwarks that stood between our
nation and its death.
But the music and the soldiers and the
flowers have passed, and under the guild
ance of friend Somers, accompanied by his
10 year old son, who is a chip from the old
block and looks forward to the time, now
but a few days distant, when he too will
bestride a wheel. we start out this time on
foot, to see the sights of Millville. Being
a holiday the mills md factories are shut
down and the population is on the street
or quietly resting in the many comfortable
homestead we saw nom that had not the
appearance of comfort-with which Mill
vile abounds. Broad streets, smooth as a
pavement, straight curb lines, spacious side
walks, rows of neat cottages with every
thing around as clean anda as bright ass new
pin, met the eye wherever we went. No
''slums' in Millyille. No section of the
town given over to dirt and disease, but all
alike clean. respectable and home-like.
The''tumbling dam whence is obtained
all the water power for the Melville
factories is our destination. The
Maurice River is here cut off by a dam
some % to 80 feet in height and &c should
Judge more than an eighth of a mile i'll
length which backs the water up into a
broad unbroken expanse of three miles in
length by about one mile i'll width over the
surface of which sail boats and smaller
craft float here and there. The water
power was formerly obtained from a dam
3 miles up the river and conducted to the
mills by a raceway but this not giving a
sufficient fall the present dam was con-
structed at an enormous expense by the
Messrs. Wood, proprietors of the Cotton
Mills and Foundry. Below and near the
end of the dam is the water works wherein
two great pumps, operated by the water
power from the raceway, force the water
from the lake to a stand-pipe l24 feet i'll
height standing on an elevation some dis
lance away. This stand pipe is a hollow
cylinder of heavy iron put up in sections
and of about 20 feet diameter and kept
nearly full Of water from which head the