"Mr. STURMEY, in the preface to the new edition of his
_Handbook of Bicycling_, sketches the progress of this
enormously popular amusement since the appearance of his last
edition, rather more than five years ago."--_Daily Paper._
[Illustration]
YE Bicyclists of England
Who stride your wheels with ease,
How little do you think upon
What Mr. STURMEY sees.
The wheelmen's standard rises high
With every year that goes.
Wheels sweep, fast and cheap,
Whereof STURMEY'S trumpet blows--
Our cycles range more swift and strong,
And STURMEY'S trumpet blows.
The Cycles of our fathers
Were "bone-shakers," and few,
But the cinder-path's broad field of fame
Shows what their sons can do.
When WYNDHAM rose, and STANTON fell,
The pace was cramped and slow;
Their creep to our sweep
Rouses STURMEY'S scorn, you know--
Our Cycles now run fleet and strong,
And STURMEY'S trumpets blow.
Britannia needs no bulwark--
Tariffs her trade to keep,
Her "wheels" are found on every path;
Coventry's not asleep.
Our WOODS and HOWELLS wheel like fun,
JACK KEEN can make 'em go.
Foes we floor from each shore,
Whereof STURMEY'S trumpets blow--
Our Cyclists lick the world by long,
And STURMEY'S trumpets blow.
The "Meteor" wheels of England
Shall yet terrific turn;
'Tis true that France gave us a start--
Now she has much to learn.
To you, our brave wheel-warriors,
Our song and glass shall flow;
To the fame of your name
Mr. STURMEY'S trumpets blow--
Cycles or Cyclists, _ours_ are best,
So why should we _not_ blow?
* * * * *
HEAVY LIGHTNING.--Lord GRIMTHORPE, _a propos_ of Lightning
Conductors, with his customary courtesy, writes to the _Times_
of his opponent's (also a Correspondent to the leading journal)
desire "to display his own smartness," and speaks of that
opponent's opinions as "mere nonsense, due to his ignorance."
He concludes, "If he wants the last word, he is welcome to it."
Lord GRIMTHORPE'S last word (if really the last) is preferable.
* * * * *
[Illustration: AMERICAN CHINA.
THE WILLOW PATTERN PLATE OF THE FUTURE]
"The Mandarin had an only daughter, named LI-CHI, who fell in
love with CHANG, a young man who lived in the island-home
represented at the top of the pattern, and who had been her
father's secretary. The father overheard them one day making
vows of love under the orange-tree, and sternly forbade the
unequal match; but the lovers contrived to elope, lay concealed
for awhile in the gardener's cottage, and thence made their
escape in a boat to the island-home of the young lover. The
enraged Mandarin pursued them with a whip, and would have
beaten them to death, had not the gods rewarded their fidelity
by changing them both into turtle-doves. The picture is called
the Willow-Pattern, not only because it is a tale of disastrous
love, but because the elopement occurred 'when the willow
begins to shed its leaves.'"--_Legend of the Willow-Pattern._