TIIE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
179 
several blocks, when he saw Mr. Marsdon approaching, 
and ns he attempted to turn out for him he was thrown 
violently forward and landed in a sitting posture on the 
hard concrete pavement, with his feet straight out be¬ 
fore him and heels elevated, while his hands were ex¬ 
tended as if trying to clutch the four winds at once. As 
Mr. Marsdon looked down at this unusual projectile 
which had so suddenly been thrown in his pathway, he 
recognized with surprise his former pastor and present 
friend, and anxiously asked if he was hurt. 
“ N-no, n-not much,” replied the fallen hero with a 
sickly smile, “ I see starry visions, and might fancy 
that I had been projected into the firmament were it 
not that I feel solid earth beneath me; the milky way 
cannot he made of concrete, can it ?” 
“Not that I am aware of!” replied Mr. Marsdon, as he 
rescued the bicycle from the gutter and led it to Aris¬ 
tarchus, saying: 
“ Can I assist you to mount?” 
“Not yet, my friend; as I remarked before, I feel the 
earth hut too plainly beneath me—and my blouse is 
short. Would you have the kindness to step in some¬ 
where and borrow an overcoat to cover my retreat?” 
Mr. Marsdon went off in a roar of laughter, but soon 
returned, and throwing an overcoat over the shoulders 
of his unfortunate friend, assisted him to rise. Aristar¬ 
chus led the bicycle home; and when he came in and 
took off that overcoat and started to go upstairs, I didn’t 
say one word. I couldn’t. I laughed and I laughed; 
and I continued to laugh. I laugli now when I think 
of it. 
For some weeks after this exploit Aristarchus patron¬ 
ized the back street until he regained his confidence, and 
on one fatal morning again started up Broadway. He did 
not notice that I hurried on my wraps and followed him. 
I was not very anxious to see him ride, but if he was to 
be thrown off and his clothes demolished, I meant to see 
how it was done? And I saw. He went finely for 
quite a long distance, and I was beginning to think I had 
better not prolong my rather stupid walk, when I saw 
our minister’s wife coming. She was tripping lightly 
along, followed by her big Newfoundland dog, and carry¬ 
ing in her hands a chromo mounted ready for framing. 
As Aristarchus neared her, he lifted his hat gracefully; 
but in bowing to her he failed to notice a large 
stone that lay before him, and the bicycle crashed 
against it, sending Aristarchus head foremost at Mrs. 
Carter! As she saw him coming, she instinctively held 
out the picture to shield herself; but his head went 
plump through it like a circus acrobat going through a 
paper-covered hoop, and hit Mrs. Carter with such force 
as to knock her over. She fell on her dog, who growled 
and barked while his mistress screamed, and a couple of 
street boys yelled “stop-thief.” The dogextricated him¬ 
self, and rushing at Aristarchus grabbed him by the 
pants, and by the time I reached the spot, Aristarchus, 
with the chromo standing out about his neck like a very 
aesthetic and new-fangled yoke, was dancing wildly 
about in the vain endeavor to free himself from the 
teeth of that dog. People were rushing to the spot to 
see what was going on, and there was no lack of assist¬ 
ance, so Mrs. Carter was soon on her feet again, and the 
dog was quieted, and Aristarchus ceased to be the cen¬ 
tral figure of a chromo, and the judicious arrangement 
of a few pins where the dog’s teeth had been at work 
oon put him in a condition to start for home. It only 
remained for him to pick up the pieces of the bicycle. 
I suggested borrowing a basket to take them home in, 
but he gave me such a look that I did not dare to repeat 
the suggestion ! That night Aristax-chus told Leander 
that he had decided not to ride any more, but would 
turn the bicycle over to him at once. 
Leander gave one war whoop, three cheers, and 
turned two somei-saults in token of his delight, and 
then rushed out to view his property 1 When he came 
back he gave a vicious pull at Miranda Dorothea’s flaxen 
curls, trod on his father’s toes, and sat down with one 
leg of his chair on the cat’s tail! That was all he said ! 
The next day was Sunday, and it so happened that 
Aristarchxxs had agreed to supply the pulpit. I won¬ 
dered what be would wear ! Shortly after breakfast he 
risked meekly: 
“ Cordelia, could you find me a pair of pants to 
wear?” 
“ Certainly,” I replied cheerfully, and going to my 
room with malicious satisfaction, I dragged from the 
closet every pair he had worn since he bought the 
bicycle! I spi-ead out a row of them on the bed; I 
spread a pair on evei'y chair iix the room. There were 
pants of divers colors and divers materials ; some were 
patched, some wei-e darned, and some were still un¬ 
darned. Then I called Aristarchus to survey the rains. 
As he stood in the midst of them I murmui-ed softly : 
11 Pants to the right of hint, 
Pants to the left of him, 
Pants to the front of him, 
Torn, rent, ancl sundered! 
Who can their story tell ? 
Boldly they rode and well I 
No two were served alike, 
Yet all on a big strike 
Lay the six hundred I ” 
“Six hundred fiddlesticks !” growled Aristarchus. 
“No; pants !” I gasped, and pi-oceeded hysterically: 
“ When can their glory fade ? 
O the wild charge they made 1 
All the world wondered. 
Sad was the havoc made 1 
Pity the Pants Brigade, 
Ragged six hundred 1 ” 
But Aristarchus heard not; he was trying to choose 
the less disreputable pair for use. 
“I think, Coi-delia,” he said at last, “I will try this 
pah- of doeskin, they will look the best with my broad¬ 
cloth coat, and it will hide the patches.” 
“ Doeskin is vex-y treacherous matei-ial,” I suggested, 
“ and those were always a tx-ifle snug.” 
“I think I may trust them for this one occasion,” 
he replied. And he did. 
All went well until Aristarchus sat down at the close 
of the sermon, when I observed him grow suddenly pale, 
and at that moment from the lowest depths of my in¬ 
ner consciousness was evolved in the faintest whisper 
the fatal word “ doeskin ! ” As soon as possible after 
the service closed, I made my way to the vestry. There 
sat Aristai'clius with perspiration on his manly brow 
and anguish in his eye! 
“Cordelia,” he whispered, “could you order a car¬ 
riage ? ” 
I could and did. When Leander learned why his 
father came home in a carx-iage he muttered savagely: 
“I shouldn’t care if he never could have another 
pair in his life; ’twould serve him right for smashing up 
my bicycle.”—Mrs. Susie A. Bisbee in Golden Rule. 
