[to be continued.]
[BICYCLING FOR GIRLS.]
Some weeks ago we published an article on bicycle-riding, and at that time promised to say something regarding bicycling for girls, which is so different a question from bicycling for boys that it requires a separate article.
There has been a discussion going on for some time as to whether it was a healthy exercise for girls and young women to take up, and many doctors have given it as their opinion that it was not, on the whole, advisable. But the practice has become general now, and it is likely that many more girls will ride this fall and next year than ever before. Consequently it is useless to advise people not to ride. If any girl finds that riding is making her feel enervated and tired all the time, or if in any other way she notices any kind of unpleasant results from her riding, common-sense and her doctor will tell her to stop; but there is no reason why a healthy girl, if she begins gradually, should not learn to ride, and ride well, to the great benefit of her health and happiness.
It is only required that she shall observe two or three simple rules—rules which every athlete who trains theoretically obeys. For instance, she should remember that, as is the case with most girls in cities, and often in the country as well, she has not been accustomed to severe physical exercise, that she would not start out at once to run five miles without stopping, and in like manner she should not ride ten miles on a wheel neither the first time nor the thirtieth time. This seems very simple to read in type, but the fact is that most girls want to ride fifteen miles as soon as they can get along on a road by themselves.
The difficult thing is to stop just before you begin to feel the slightest sensation of weariness. In these fall days any one can ride along through the country, and while moving feel invigorated by the force of the breeze which the movement of the wheel creates. But when she does stop, the girl suddenly feels "worn out," perhaps a little dizzy, or at least tired, and rather inclined to get into a car and ride home, while some one else pushes her wheel along for her. Any girl of spirit in such a situation immediately makes up her mind that she will not give in to this feeling of weariness, and that she will ride home whether she feels tired or not. The result is a bad headache, a doctor, and perhaps an injunction from her parents not to ride a bicycle again.
POSITION JUST BEFORE STARTING TO MOUNT.
There are girls who can ride twenty, forty, or sixty miles in a day, but this is because they have begun gradually, and increased their distances by degrees as their bodies got into what is called "good condition." Let us set down a rule, then, on this subject, and say that the average girl of fifteen ought not to ride more than five miles, by cyclometer, in any one day, until she has taken thirty rides within two months—that is to say, until she has ridden at least once in every two days. Then she should not exceed ten miles in a day, or at one time, until she has ridden a bicycle half a year. After this she can estimate about what she can do without tiring herself, and she can gradually work up to twenty miles at a time without ever having that fagged feeling which is a sure sign that the thing has been overdone. So much for the distance.
Now a word as to costume. We are just in the midst of a change in ideas as to girls' bicycle costumes. No one who has ridden ten times fails to complain of skirts, be they never so well made. They catch in the rear wheel. They make a sail to catch all the wind when the wind is blowing against you, and only a bicyclist knows what a head wind really means. And finally they are continually in the way.
On the other hand, trousers do not seem just the thing for girls to wear. Some time we may all come to the regulation knickerbockers for a bicycle costume, but just at present a girl who wears them appears to be immodest. As a matter of fact, however, modesty and ladylike behavior do not depend on the costume, but on the bearing and character of the young lady herself, and it is only necessary for us to become accustomed to seeing ladies wearing any kind of a bicycle costume to think it the proper thing, and probably some kind of bloomers or divided skirt is more unnoticeable and modest than a skirt which flies about as you ride along the road. The best thing for a girl then is a divided skirt which is close fitting, which cannot catch in either wheel or in the gearing of the bicycle, or the ordinary gymnasium bloomers. Either of these, especially the latter, is much better from a health point of view, since a great deal of the strain of forcing the machine ahead is saved by them. But in time we shall probably have a regular woman's bicycle costume, which will be a combination of knickerbockers and bloomers, and then when people once become accustomed to it, they will wonder how under the sun women ever rode with long skirts.
POSITION JUST AFTER STARTING TO MOUNT.
With the question of the distance you shall ride in a day and the question of costume settled, it then becomes necessary to discuss the details of riding. A great many girls and women learn to ride in-doors in some hall, and the usual method employed is to place a belt with a handle at each side around the girl's waist. A man walks on either side of her, and steadies her by grasping either handle on the belt, and she then struggles on, until, after a number of lessons, she can ride alone. In the city this may be a good plan, but it is inevitably the result that after a girl has learned to ride in-doors it becomes practically necessary for her to learn over again when she first tries the road. The best method, therefore, if the surroundings admit of it, is to get some strong person to grasp the rear part of the saddle, and to then steady you as you move along a smooth road. If this is done half an hour a day three times on alternate days, any average girl should be able to ride alone for a short distance.
She will do well not to try to learn to mount until she has become somewhat proficient in riding, so that she can ride four or five miles at a time over an average country road. Mounting will then come easy, whereas at the beginning it is extremely difficult. When sitting on a bicycle a girl should be in an upright position, practically as when walking. The saddle should be broad and flat, and, while most of the weight of her body rests upon the saddle, it is nevertheless true that she should put as much of her weight upon the pedals as possible: it not only makes riding and balancing easier, but it distributes her weight over the machine, both to her own comfort and to the safety of the wheel. Sitting perfectly upright, she should be able to place the instep or hollow of her foot between the heel and ball squarely on the pedal when it is at its lowest point in the arc, and in that position her knee should be practically unbent, although, as a matter of fact, it is better if the knee is what might be called "sprung" a little. At all events, the body should not sag from one side to the other as the pedals turn, and when the rider is forcing the wheel ahead with the ball of the foot on the pedal, the knee would never be straightened actually if this rule was followed.
CORRECT POSITION FOR WOMAN BICYCLIST.
There is no advantage whatsoever in trying to secure a long reach; it does not help you in any way, and it makes it more difficult to send the machine ahead either faster or slower. This is particularly noticeable in going up a hill. Women, as a rule, do not have the fault which many men have of leaning forward far over the handle. They are more apt to sit upright than most men; but they have one fault which should be corrected, and that is the position which the handles occupy in relation to their bodies. A girl should sit upright, as has been said, and in that position, when she places her hands on the cork handles, her arms should be slightly bent at the elbow. It is very common, however, to see the arms so much bent that the forearm forms almost a right angle to the upper arm. This is not only uncomfortable, but it deprives her of the purchase which she needs when forcing the machine ahead or going up a hill. In other words, it is much more difficult to "pull" on the handles when the arms are bent to a right angle than when they are practically straight. On the other hand, the fault of leaning the weight of the body on the handle-bars should be avoided with the utmost care, as that forces the shoulders back and the chin forward on the chest, and in time distorts the whole symmetry of the upper part of a person's body.
PROPER ARRANGEMENT OF THE DRESS.
Mounting and dismounting, especially the former, as has been said, should not be tried until the bicyclist has learned to keep her balance easily while riding. Then mounting will come more or less naturally, since the difficulty in this operation is not so much to get on the machine, as to start the wheel soon enough after gaining the seat to avoid falling off. To begin with, the girl should grasp both handle-bars firmly, facing forward, of course. By means of the hands the bicycle should be held absolutely perpendicular, neither leaning towards her person nor away from it. Then standing on the left of the machine, she should step over the gearing with her right foot and place it on the right pedal, which is moved just forward of its highest point in the arc; in other words, so that the first pressure which comes on that right pedal will force the machine ahead as fast as possible.
Having placed her right foot on this pedal, without bearing any weight on it, she then steps into the position over the gearing which will bring her weight as nearly as possible immediately over the centre of gravity of the machine. Having arranged her skirt so that it will be symmetrical when she mounts, she merely rises by stepping up on the right-hand pedal, and sits into the saddle by a slow, easy movement. Her weight on the right-hand pedal starts the machine forward, pulls the saddle in under her, and gives the velocity to the bicycle which she needs in order to keep her balance.
CORRECT METHOD OF DISMOUNTING.
One of the most important things about women's bicycle-riding is the ability to dismount not only gracefully, but at once in case of necessity. In this, as in mounting, there is no jump anywhere. The rider simply catches the left pedal as it begins to rise from the lowest point in the arc, and, bearing her weight on that pedal, allows herself to be forced upward out of the saddle. This not only brings her into a position to step out of the machine, but also brings the machine to a standstill, or practically so, unless she is going at a high rate of speed. When the pedal has nearly reached the top, and the machine is as near a standstill as possible, she steps, still bearing her weight on this left-hand pedal, out on the left side of the machine, putting her right foot over the left foot, and letting the right foot strike the ground first. Both mounting and dismounting are slow, even movements; there is no quick jump about them, and the motions are all gradual. As soon as you attempt to leap into the saddle, or leap out of it, you are almost certain to disturb the equilibrium of the bicycle itself, and then catastrophe is the result.
It only remains to say a word about riding with men and boys. Boys, as a usual thing, are in better physical condition for such exercise as bicycle-riding than girls. They can consequently ride farther and faster than girls; and as any girl of spirit will try to keep up with whomever she is riding, she is likely to strain herself. It is wise, therefore, for the girl to always insist on leading, or, as it is called, on "setting the pace," and it is also wise for her to make up her mind just where she is going to ride before she stops. The distance is then settled before the journey begins, and there is no question of riding farther than she thought she would at the start. If a girl sets out for a bicycle ride without any definite point in view, she is likely to ride away from home until she becomes tired, and then there is the whole distance of the return to be covered in a more or less wearied condition; and it is this kind of bicycle-riding which does the injury to women and girls.
[WHAT MARJORIE COULD DO.]
BY H. G. PAINE.
I.
"Fire! Fire!"
Marjorie Mason woke up with a start.
"Clang! clang!" went the fire-engine from around the corner.
"Whoa!" shouted the driver.
"Dear me!" thought Marjorie; "it must be very near here," and she jumped out of bed and ran to the window. The engine was already connected with the hydrant across the street, and the firemen were attaching the hose and bringing it—what? yes; right up the front steps of the Masons' house! One fireman was ringing violently at the front-door bell; and Marjorie wondered why her father did not go down to open the door. Perhaps the house next door was on fire, and they wanted to take the hose up on the roof. Still the bell rang, and now Marjorie could hear the firemen from the hook-and-ladder truck that had just come up breaking in the parlor windows with their axes.
"Why doesn't somebody go to the door?" she said to herself. "It will never do to have that dirty hose dragged through the parlor and over the new carpet!" and she jumped to the door of her room to run down and let the firemen in; but, as she opened it, a rush of hot air and stifling smoke blew into her face, choking and gagging her, and filling her eyes with tears. Then she realized for the first time that the fire was in her own house. She shut the door with a bang, and ran to the window, opened it, and looked out. As she did so a tongue of flame shot up in front of her from the window of the library, just underneath her own room. Her father's and mother's room was in the back part of the house on the same floor as the library. "Was it on fire, too?" Marjorie shuddered as she thought of it.
"And Jack!" Her brother Jack slept in the back room on the same floor as Marjorie, but the rooms did not connect. "Perhaps the fire is only in the front part of the house," she thought, "and the others don't know anything about it." She determined to arouse them.
Marjorie opened the door again. The smoke and heat were stifling, but there was no flame that she could see. Then she shut her eyes, closed the door behind her, and rushed down the hall to Jack's room. She had been to it so often that she could not miss the door-knob, even in her excitement. Fortunately the door was unlocked. She opened it quickly, and shut it behind her, gasping for breath. Oblivious alike of the danger and the noise Jack was still fast asleep, but she soon woke him up, and together they rushed to the back window. Looking down they saw their father helping their mother out upon the sloping roof of the back piazza.
At the sight of her poor mother, who was very ill, in so perilous a plight, Marjorie forgot all about her own danger, and shouting, "Hold on tight—I'll tell the firemen!" before her brother could stop her she had run back fearlessly to her own room despite the fact that the stairway was now all in a blaze. As she opened her eyes she saw the glazed helmet of a fireman at the window.
"GO BACK AND LOOK AFTER FATHER AND MOTHER!"
"Go back!" she cried; "go back quick and look after father and mother; they are on the roof of the back piazza!"
Then a strange feeling of dizziness came over her. She felt a strong arm around her waist. She dimly saw a kind face near to hers, and was conscious of being carried down, down, down, so far, so far, and of hearing people cheering a great way off.