Those who have thought the rage for velocipedes would be fleeting and evanescent, have found themselves much mistaken. Velocipede “Schools,” “Halls,” “Rinks,” “Institutes,” and “Academies,” have sprung into existence with mushroom rapidity. There are scores in our large cities, and one or more in almost every country town. They secure a patronage which is not only surprising, as indicating the extent to which the enthusiasm prevails; but also as showing that the desire to ride is not confined to any particular age, or to any class of persons. We have seen astride the bicycle in the same rink, the old and the young, the fat man and the lean, the doctor, who does not believe that the fashionable exercise develops one set of muscles to the detriment of others; the clergyman, a regular muscular Christian; and the newsboy who has sold his papers in the cold and rain to accumulate the funds to make him as much the privileged character as any nabob. We have witnessed the lawyer, the tradesman, and the mechanic, spinning with ease and grace. We have watched the lounger who fringes the edge of society with his delicate moustache, making his languid attempt; we have seen the artist mount his Pegasus, and the professor of literature, striving with noble persistency to emulate his much envied tutor. There is a marked fascination in the exercise which affects alike the spectators and the participants. Those who come to look, remain to ride; and those, who once bestride “the wheeled Rosinante,” refuse to quit until they have tamed the unaccustomed steed. It is very amusing to watch the eager pupils, going through their novitiate. The beginners mount, struggle, perspire, and tumble in all directions and shapes; and blunders, awkward movements, collisions, and shipwrecks follow each other in constant succession. The more advanced ride with “This one thing I do,” manifest upon every feature; and one would suppose, from looking at their compressed lips, knit brows, and fixed eyes, that they felt they were guiding, like Phaëton, the horses of the Sun. The graduates and proficients ride with charming ease, carelessness, and control. “The early bird catches the worm,” is a proverb particularly applicable to those who first started velocipede schools. All the rinks, schools, academies, and “velocipedagogues,” do a large business; and their machines pay for themselves in a short time.