The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1896-08-29

that some of the most charming herones in
fiction, whom no one has ever thought of
criticising, have done the self-same thing.
lake, for Instance, Miss Helen Mar and
Consuelo and Rosaind-doesn' every one
admire them, and are not they considered
three very fascinating ladies? It this argu-
ment fails, haven another to offer.
When l was ready, stood for a moment
irresolute. Then I gazed once more out
into the moonlight. That settled it.
Nothing could have been more enticing
than tie night, and in two seconds more
was creeping stealthily down stairs.
The boys keep their machines in a corner
of the square hall, and it did not take me
any time to get one out on the porch and
to close the doors after me. My own wheel
ignored. When one goes to the length
OF putting on boys clothing, one ought at
least to ride boys wheel.
got the wrench out of the tool bag and
let the saddle down; then calmly removed
the lamp. 1t was too light to require one,
and, besides, l was so afraid some one
might recognize me.
Everything went beautifully, except
that my hair seemed to be coming down,
and in putting up my hand to tighten it,
the wheel fell over on the porch and made
horrible crash in the stiffness | waited
moment, but nothing happened, so l
hurriedly carried the machine down the
steps and jumped on.
Oh, the luxury of jumping on
The words convey nothing to those who,
like myself, have always had to wait until
the right pedal is just exactly at certain
angle; then, placing one foot upon it, have
had to balance in midair, while we
divided our skirt and wrggled into posi-
ton on the saddle.
Nothing OF that now. gave the machine
a little shove off first, then hoped on as
easily as you please, and | felt as / fancy
the slaves must have felt after the Enamel
patton Act.
Away we went. The road seemed like
airy clouds under my wheels, and we
kimmed along like a bird. The cool breeze
famed me like fairy zephyrs, and the moon
II its big, round, shmmering fulness,
seemed to smile upon me and encourage
me.
1t was the old story of forbidden fruit.
had always enjoyed bicycling, but my
| former rides had been nothing to this-this
stolen one, at an unconventional hour, in
| unconventional garb
could have shouted and sung for very
exuberance Of spirit.
But l did not propose to Just trundle
along-oh! dear, no.
could do that any time, so l turned in
to the worst road, and put on full speed !
proceeded to ''scorch." | bent like a
monkey on stick over the handle bar, and
flew along like thing possessed.
This kept up for some time. Then il
became tritle warm and tedious; so
back pedalled and reduced my speed to a
pleasant, even gait.
1t was so refreshing to feel the breeze
again, and the whir of the wheels as they
crunched over the ground was a very agree
able sound.
had been spinning along some time
thinking the most delightful thoughts and
enjoying the greatest exhilaration, when
all at once became conscious of voices be.
hind me and the jingle of other wheels
At first paid no attention to it, and rode
complacently on, and then suddenly il
came over me, from certain indications,
that was being followed-or, even worst
pursued!
What sensations came over me then.
began at once to see my folly, and al
my delightful thoughts took flight.
Who on earth could it be that was Dur
suing me?
Tramps, no Doubt could hear two O
them-and probably they thought l wa.
only little boy, and were after me tc
steal my machine, and perhaps OH horror
upon horror!-to shoot me and leave me OF
the road side to die
All the strength seemed to die out of my
limbs, and l could scarcely work the pedals
at all. My grip relaxed on the handle
bar, and felt that should drop,
Nearer and nearer the pursuers cam,
and | could hear the jingle Of their rapid,
revolving spokes
At length they were right behind me
and heard one say to the other in coars,
whisper:
"Close him in on your side, and ther
We'll run him into the lock-upn'
Great heavens! l, Josephine Howard
run into the lock up! 1t was the mos
frightful thing l had ever heard, and
could have died at the thought OF it. But
somehow, horror seemed to give m,
strength, and with great forward lung,
gripped my machine tighter and shot of