Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1917-05-08

town, ana rode 10 ana from her school,
morning and evening. on bicycle
One evening. early in June, when the
world was fair to look upon, it was
foreordained that Prudence should be
turning In at the parsonage gate just
as Matte Moore whirled up, opposite,
on her dusty wheel. Prudence stopped
to interchange polite inanities with her
neighbor, and Matte, wheeling the BIZ
cycle lightly beside her, came across
the street and stood beneath the par
sonage naples with Prudence. They
talked of the weather, of the coming
summer, of Mattie's school, rejoicing
that one more week would bring free
dom from books for Matte and the
younger parsonage girls.
Then said Prudence: isn't 1t great
fun to ride a bicycle? / love it. Some
time will you let me ride your wheel ?"
'Why, certainly. You may ride now
if you like"
NO" said Prudence slowly, 81 used
to ride, but am afraid 1T would not do
now. Some of the members might
see me, and-well, 1 am very grown
up, you know. OF course" she added
hastily, sit is different with you. You
ride for business, but it would be moth
ing but a frolic with me. want to go
early in the morning, when the world
is fast asleep. Let me take it tomor-
row morning, will your"
Yes, of course you may" was the
hearty answer. you may stay out as
long us you like. 1 always sleep late
on Saturdays"
SO Prudence delightedly tripped up
the parsonage board walk, wheeling
the bicycle by her side. She hid it
carefully in the woodshed, for the
twins were rash and venturesome. But
after she had gone to bed, she con-
fided her plan to Fairy.
"rm going at six O'clock, and, Fairy
If l am little late, you'll get break
fast for papa and the girls, like a dear,
won't your"
Fairy promised. And early the next
morning Prudence, in red sweater
jacket and cap, set out upon her secret
ride. 1t was a magnificent morning,
and Prudence sang for pure delight as
she rode swiftly along the country
roads, guided only by her own caprice.
She knew 1t was growing late, but
Fairy1l get breakfast" she thought.
comfortably.
Finally she turned in a by-road lead
ing between two rich hickory groves.
Dismounting at the top of q long hill,
she gazed anxiously around her. No
one was in sight. The nearest house
was two miles behind, and the road
was long and smooth and inviting,
and the hill was steep. Prudence
yearned for n good, soul-stirring coast.
with her feet high on the framework
of the wheel, and the pedals flying
around beneath her skirts. 1t seemed
safe. The only living thing in sight
was sober-eyed, serious mule peace
fully grazing near the bottom of the
hin.
Prudence laughed gleefully, like a
child. She never laughed again in ex-
actly that way. "Here goes" she
cried, and, leaping nimbly into the
saddle, she pedaled swiftly a few
times, and then lifted her feet to the
coveted position. The pedals flew
around beneath her, and the wind
whistled about her in a most exhila-
rating way.
But as she neared the bottom the
placid mule suddenly stalked into the
middle of the road. Prudence screamed.
jerked the handlebar to the right, to
the left, and then, with a sickening
thud, she struck the mule head first,
and bounced on down to the ground,
with little cry of pain. The bicycle
crashed beside her, and the mule,
slightly startled, looked around at her
with ears raised in silent questioning.
Then he ambled slowly across the road,
and deliberately continued his grazing.
Prudence tried to raise herself, but
she felt sharp pain. She heard some
one leaping over the fence near her,
and wondered, without moving her
head, If it could be a tramp bent on
highway robbery. The next instant a
man was leaning over her. Its not
tramp" she thought. before he had
time to speak.
"Are you hurt?" he cried. "You poor
child"
Prudence smiled pluckily. MY ankle
is hurt a little, but 1 am not a child"
The young man, in great relief,
laughed aloud, and Prudence Joined
him rather family.
''rm afraid cannot walk" she said.
II believe I've broken my ankle, maybe
my whole leg. for all 1 know. It
hurts-pretty badlyr