The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1896-08-05

with freedom they never had fancied,
they straightway wondered at all these
allegations. And how, indeed, does O
brisk turn under tho sky, and between
the fields, drive away cobwebby no.
tions. In the old days canter might
do it, but horse is a luxury, and,
even if you can afford it is ever get.
ting out OF condition, and to be fit
must have modicum of constant ex-
ercise. But now all 60 a-spinning, the
horseman as well as the onetime long
distance walkers, the sinners,l and
those who strive to regain this old
world from the curse.
Among these latter, no one is better
equipped for the ancient fight than the
rector of Saint Matthew-in the Park,
the Rev. Lemuel Springer. With
body and mind attuned to q fine
healthfulness, ut thirty, he believes
strongly, and breaches and acts his
belief, and in these days when clergy
men sometimes forget that their duty
is but to heal the hearts wounds, and
to preach the reward of simple hon
esty and cleanly living, it is delight
to sit of morning in a pew of Saint
MRtthew-in-tho Park and listen to the
direct and human religion its athlec-
tic young rector expounds. /, myself,
remember him when he was No. on
the Varsity crew, and very great
man. He still could pull that third
oar as strongly, but the only sport his
duties now permit him is wheeling,
and if you go to the park of morn
ing you may see him going up and
down hill and doubtless meditating
those words for the soul cheer afforded
by his bits of sermonlzing, put always
in English tersely strong.
And yet he has all his troubles, his
experiences, his questionings, his sin,
his falsity, and if you will follow my
story, you will see how it was all due
to the wheel that he once forgot him
self.
OF May day the Rev. Lemuel was
coastiDg down the long hill into the
struggling village of Roundbush,
Westchester. 1t was his day of
outing, and now at noon he was
hungry after Il twenty-mile exhilar-
ating spin; and the world had put
its care away, and his blood was
tingling and his heart singing like
the birds in the fields and the treetops
through the windy blue spaces of
that sunny spring-day sky. The old
tavern at Roundbush bears on a creak-
ing sign q distorted likeness of our
first great President, and after long
years of desuetude again has found
usefulness through the revival of the
road, and flaunts a noon placard (:
Lunches for Bicyclers. Yet this
afternoon the Reverend Lemuel
thought that he had it quite to him
self, as the fat landlord pushed his
shirtsleeves further above his brawny
elbows and said he guessed he could
give his visitor "somethin' that was
fit eatin'." And Lemuel-I will droI
his title-thought the broiled chicken
delicious and sauntered into tho par
lor, dark after the sunshine, with iti
haircloth chairs and its colored prints
of washington Crossing the Della
ware" and "John Browns Capture,
and certain photographs of prim rura
folk.
Now, usually, Lemuel was most oh
serving. Yet he had been in. tina
room fully five minutes before he no
ticed a figure stretched out on (
couch; at the dark side, to be sure, Sc
that it may not have been SO strang,
that ho had not seen her at first! Hel
face sunk in apillow, she seemed to b,
sobbing. Lemuel at once made fol
the door, when he heard a sweet anC
strangely plaintive voice;
''I'm such a fool Oh, l beg your
pardon |" she added, with such eviden
confusion that Lemuel turned abou
hastily to see the prettiest figure of 4
woman in a wItehing bicycle costume
and what she was like I'll leave you t
fancy: inst fancy. that is. the yer,