File:The Wheel and cycling trade review (1896) (14773429491).jpg

Identifier: wheelcy18211896121897newy (find matches)
Title: The Wheel and cycling trade review
Year: 1888 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Cycling Bicycles Cyclists
Publisher: New York : Wheel and Cycling Trade Review
Contributing Library: Smithsonian Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Smithsonian Libraries

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ly, headquarters is—whisper it low-ly—a young ladies seminary. It is ratherthe worse for wear, but to-day its flakingpaint is well hidden by huge streamers andfestoons of bright-hued bunting and by signsbreathing welcome. Stairs lead from thesidewalk to either end of the porch. At thefoot of one flight an officer of the law—apoliceman—is on duty. When I approachedthis afternoon he was busy, very busy. Hewas seated in a chair, his coat unbuttoned,his legs crossed, his face buried deep in anewspaper. He was rudely disturbed by acall from indoors. An Omaha jag was slop-ping over and required attention. What races! Why, golly, boss, the bicycleraces, of course. The bicycle races! Why, Mose, we dontwant any of your bicycle races. We ainthere for fun. Were here to boom free silver.Were going to give you people free coinage atsixteen to one. Quick as a flash came the answer: Sixteento one! I know what that means, boss. Datmeans sixteen dollars for the white man andone for the nigger!
Text Appearing After Image:
And the mule! Hes here, of course.Wherever the negro is plentiful there willthe mule be found. Its a queer sight tostrange eyes to see street cars drawn by thepatient, plodding, long-eared beasts. The Louisville hotels are good, both as tomeals and appointment, that is to say, allbut the water—that Used for bathing pur- The officer is a fair type of the Louisvillepoliceman. They all saunter along in lack-adaisical fashion, coats open and with alanguid air that impresses the visitor fromthe East most unfavorably. Within headquarters the hospitality is ofa nature that might shock the supposedlydemure young ladies who imbibe knowledgetherein. There is a profusion of bunting andflags and ferns, and the visitors who are intemporary possession imbibe, but somethingmore tangible than knowledge—good old Ken-tucky punch. And it is good and as seductiveas it is good. The first glass begets a desirefor a second and the second for a third andwell, it steals so softly oer one that thewonder is

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