Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1900-03-01
ANGELA.
BY CLINTON ROSS.
Copyright. 1859. by Clinton Ross.l

Copyright, 1869, by Clinton Ross1
The scandal mongcrs of the wheel arc
confined mostly TO those who cannot or
do not wheel Not so long ago women
were likely to make mental faces at
other women who rode but rs soon as
they themselves were spinning along
with freedom they never had fancied
they straightway wondered at all these
allegations And how indeed does %
brisk turn under the sky and between
the fields drive away cobwebby notions !
In the old days canter might do il,
but horse is a luxury, and even If
you can afford it. it is ever getting out
of condition and to be fit must have a
modicum of constant exercise. But now
all 90 a-spinning, the horseman as well
as the one time long distance walkers,
the sinners and those who strive to re-
gain this old world from the curse
Among these latter no one is better
equipped for the ancient fight than the
rector of st. Matthew in the Park,
the Rev. Lemuel Springer. With body
and mind attuned to a fine healthful-
ness at 80, he believes strongly and
breaches and acts his belief, and in
these days, when clergymen sometimes
forget that their duty is but TO heal the
hearts wounds and to preach the re-
ward of simple honesty and clearly liv-
ing, it is a delight TO sit Of morning
in pew of st. Matthew in the Park
and listen TO the direct and human re-
ligion its athletic young rector ex-
pounds. | myself remember him when
he was No. 8 on the varsity crew and a
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 a morning
you may see him going up and down
hill and doubtless meditating those
words for the soul cheer afforded by his
bits of sermonizing, put always in Eng
fish tersely strong
And yet he has had his troubles, his
experiences his questionings his sin,
his falsity, and if You will follow my
story you will see how it all was due to
the wheel that once he forgot himself.
Of May day the Rev Lemuel was
coasting down the long hill into the
struggling village of Roundbush. West
chester 1t was his day of outing, and
now at noon he was hungry after 30
miles exhilarating 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 tree tops
and through the windy. blue spaces of
that sunny spring day sky. The old
tavern ct Roundbush, which bears on
creaking sign distorted likeness of our
first great president, after long years of
desuetude again has found usefulness
through the revival of the road, and
flaunts near placard, Lunches For
BicyClers. Yet this afternoon Rev
Lemuel thought he had it quite to him
self, as the fat landlord pushed his shirt
sleeves further above his brawny elbows
and said he guessed he could give his
visitor somethin that was fit eatin. "
And Lemuel-I will drop his title
thought the broiled chicken delicious
and sauntered into the parlor, dark aft
er the sunshine, with its haircloth chairs
and its colored prints Of Washington
Crossing the Delaware and John
Browns Capture and certain photo
graphs of prim, rural folk.
Now, usually Lemuel was most OBJ
serving. Yet he had been in that room
fully five minutes before he noticed a
figure stretched ont on couch-at the
dark side, to be sure. so that it may
not have been so strange that he had
not seen her at first Her face sunk in