Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
Tramp, tramp, tramp! that was the boys going down stairs in a hurry.
Bump, bump! that was the bicycle being zigzagged through the hall.
Bang! that was the front door slamming behind both boys and bicycle,
leaving the house quiet for a time, though the sound of voices outside
suggested that a lively discussion was going on.
The bicycle fever had reached Perryville, and raged all summer. Now the
town was very like a once tranquil pool infested with the long-legged
water bugs that go skating over its surface in all directions; for
wheels of every kind darted to and fro, startling horses, running over
small children, and pitching their riders headlong in the liveliest
manner. Men left their business to see the lads try new wheels, women
grew skilful in the binding of wounds and the mending of sorely rent
garments, gay girls begged for rides, standing on the little step
behind, and boys clamored for bicycles that they might join the army of
martyrs to the last craze.
Sidney West was the proud possessor of the best wheel in town, and
displayed his treasure with immense satisfaction before the admiring
eyes of his mates. He had learned to ride in a city rink, and flattered
himself that he knew all there was to learn, except those feats which
only professional gymnasts acquire. He mounted with skilful agility,
rode with as much grace as the tread-mill movements of the legs permit,
and managed to guide his tall steed without much danger to himself or
others. The occasional headers he took, and the bruises which kept his
manly limbs in a chronic state of mourning he did not mention; but
concealed his stiffness heroically, and bound his younger brother to
eternal silence by the bribe of occasional rides on the old wheel.
Hugh was a loyal lad, and regarded his big brother as the most
remarkable fellow in the world; so he forgave Sid's domineering ways,
was a willing slave, a devoted admirer, and a faithful imitator of all
the masculine virtues, airs, and graces of this elder brother. On one
point only did they disagree, and that was Sid's refusal to give Hugh
the old wheel when the new one came. Hugh had fondly hoped it would be
his, hints to that effect having been dropped when Sid wanted an errand
done, and for weeks the younger boy had waited and labored patiently,
sure that his reward would be the small bicycle on which he could
proudly take his place as a member of the newly formed club; with them
to set forth, in the blue uniform, with horns blowing, badges
glittering, and legs flying, for a long spin,--to return after dark, a
mysterious line of tall shadows, "with lanterns dimly burning," and
warning whistles sounding as they went.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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