At sight of it I was immediately reminded of the queer thing that Johnny Morris rode which the admiral had described to us and called a "wheel." I felt sure that this was the same kind of a machine.

The lady looked neither to the right nor to the left, but her glance was fixed intently on the road before her.
Farther along another lady leaned against the fence awaiting her approach.

As she bowled along the friend asked enthusiastically: "Is it not splendid ?" The rider called back to her: "It is grand! It is almost as if I were flying.

I know now how a bird feels." Think of comparing the sensation produced by moving that heavy iron machine, with the rider but three feet from the ground, to the exhilaration felt by a bird spurning the earth and soaring on delicate wing through the fields of heaven! It was truly laughable! Our amusement was cut short, however, when we noticed that the lady's hat was decorated with a dead dove.
"Can we never get away from this millinery exhibition of death ?" I exclaimed in horror.
"No," said my mother sorrowfully.

"The god, Fashion, I told you of has his slaves all over the land.