The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1893-06-28

I was pedaling my way through Maine on
high wheel when stopped one night in
the town Of Harmony at the house of an
old farmer who had never seen a bicycle be-
fore, although he had heard great deal
about them from his son, who was away at
school.
So that's one of them ere bisuckles Joe's
been Fostering me abaout2" drawled the old
fellow as he walked around the machine
and inspected it with critical eye He
wants me to git him one of the pesky
things, but they cost q marster pile Of
money. Ish'u'd think you'd fall an git
sorunched, mister"
1t is easy enough to keep you- balance
after you learn how" replied.
us that sos" be asked, CHANGING at me
suspiciously. 'S'pose could Pam to man
age the tarnal thingt"
Without doubt you could in time"
How much'n you take for this rig?" he
inquired, as If struck by sudden thought
If kin ride it, Tow mebbe we kin make
q dicker. When Joe comes home next
week. I'd like ter s'prise him by ridin right
out to meet him on bisuckle-I would,
swami What dye vally it?"
Now, the safety machines had just ap-
peared, and as was anxious to exchange
mine for wheel Of more modern pattern
was ready to sell out at a nominal figure.
"I'1l take $50 for it," replied.
IAN thet's abaout half whut new one
costsp Couldn't ye make it forty?"
"Not cent less than fifty. 1t is as good
as new wheel"
"Say forty-nine."
Even fifty or nothing"
He sighed
1T duz seem sinful waste Of money, but
I'd like to s'prise Joe, it's so nigh his birth
day. I don't like to be mean an begrutchin,
but taters look pindlin, an the hay crup
was the wust for four year. That makes
money nonstr'us nippin. Still, if / kin
ride this rig, mebbe we'll trade"
Don't make show of yourself, Eb
Jonesp' cried his wife from the open win
dow. "You can't ride that skimigilious con-
sarn, an you'll break your neck if you try,
or fall off an git your knees skun."
But that only fired the old fellow for con-
quest.
"Whoopr' he cried, splitting on his hands
and rubbing them together. Cant ride it,
hey? Fall off and break my neck or cit my
knees skun, heys Mister, jest you help me
clum onter this ere gaunin outfit, an I'll
show her 1 naint nobody's fule. l bruck
Ike Rollins broncho, an I'll bet dollars to
punkin seeds kin ride thisl'
moved the wheel up side of the house,
and he mounted to the saddle with great
difficulty. Then, under my directions and
support, he started off. He must have
thought he was keeping his balance him
self, for as soon as he started down slight
incline he shouted:
Let her goP'
Involuntarily did so. Down the slope
seocted the wheel, gaining speed with each
moment. By rare chance the old man
clung firmly to the handles and kept from
falling, but to my dismay saw he was
aiming straight for the barnyard fence.
which was built of boards set upright and
about five feet high on the outer side
Talk abaest ridin"-shouted the elated
old fellow.
But he didn't talk about it any more, for
the bicycle struck the fence just then, and
he went flying headlong through the air,
disappearing from view.
ran down to the fence and looked over,
being just In time to see him rising from
the mire, where he had sprawled face down
ward He was pitiable looking object,
and he was 60 mad he could only splutter
and shake his fist at me for time.
TITS your own fault, Eb Jonesp' declared
his wife. who had come running out to see
if he were still living. Didn't tell ye!
You rid it, didn't YET"
Then she proceeded to give him such a
tongue lashing that he grew meek and