An Early Story Of Cycling and Thanksgiving from 1880
A bicycle / cycling story for thanksgiving, original printed in the Paxton Record Newspaper on Thursday, December 2nd, 1880. {fn. The Paxton Record was published in Paxton Illinois}. It is reproduced here without alternation except formatting. Minor punction errors may have been introduced in the transcription process from a microfilm picture of the magazine.
If you have not been following along with my occasional ramblings about the history of cycling, a velocipede was an early two wheeled bicycle, without a chain which you sat aside and pushed with your feet.
Aunt Amanda And The Velocipede
A Thanksgiving Story.
“Clarkson, I want you to wash your face and hands and start right away to I meet your Aunt Amanda.”
Clarkson was a kid about nine years old, and at this time was busily engaged scouring the runners on his sled, and didn’t appear to hear. This was Thanksgiving morning, and to the boy’s great delight there was a suspicion of snow in the air.
“Clarkson Day, do you hear me?” said the mother in a louder tone, leaving the plum-pudding she was making to step to the door of the shed. “If you don’t hurry,” she continued, “the train will be in. and your Aunt Amanda will think that we have forgotten all about her.”
“I want to finish these I runners, mamma,” snarled the boy, “and I don’t want to meet Aunt Amanda, either. She always has forty bundles for a fellow to carry, and I don’t like to tote bundles.”
“I take notice that Aunt Amanda generally brings you something,” said his mother, in a coaxing tone. “I Wonder who gave you your rubber boots and rubber coat last Thanksgiving, and who gave you your watch last Christmas. I think you had better go to the train as quickly as you can.”
“The boys all laugh at me. mamma, when I go to meet Aunt Amanda.” said Clarkson, applying himself vigorously to a rusty spot on the steel, ” and I guess you wouldn’t like to be poked fun at. Al Jenks said the last time I met Aunt Amanda that I looked like a dry-goods store on wheels, and Frank Davis said he thought ‘I’ was a gin peddler coming along.”
” What do you care what the boys say?” mamma coaxed again.
’”Well. I ain’t a going, so now!” the naughty boy replied; and at this crisis in affairs the lad who was ashamed to be seen carrying .bundles was not ashamed to break into a babyish cry, which, strangely enough, hail the desired effect of excusing him from the performance of this disagreeable duty.
Just here a boy about Clarkson’s age, with a pleasant, intelligent face, walked into the shed with a basket of eggs for Mrs. Day. His name was Robert Clifton, and he was the sun of a near neighbor. Robert’s father was not as well off as Mr. Day, and so it happened that Robert, as compared with other
boys in the neighborhood, had very few pleasures. However, he didn’t seem to mind it, and was always ready to lend a helping little hand to anyone who needed it. Robert had heard the but part of the conversation, and said smilingly, “I will go to the depot if you like, Mrs. Day.”
“Oh, do! that’s a good boy,” said the lady, at her wits’ end; “and do hurry, for I am afraid Amanda has started before this.” The boy was off like a Hash, and then Clarkson proceeded to wash his face and hands, and put up his sled. Two minutes later Mrs. Day turned round to admonish her disobliging son, and he was nowhere to be seen. The fact was, he had hurried, as fast as his swift feet would carry him. to drum together the boys, in order to “put up a job,” as he called It. on Bob Clifton, who had been so officious in offering his services for the work he had declined.
Away flitted Bob. taking the shortest cut across the meadows, and behind him, keeping to the main road, which Clarkson know his aunt would take on her way to the house, were five boys, with Clarkson at their heal. Robert by scampering (very fast, was just in time; and the boys saw Bob shoulder several bundles in shawl-straps, and load his arms well up with boxes and parcels, with roars of laughter. It was agreed that Clarkson should not be seen, but that the other lads from different standpoints should imitate the yells of the North American Indians, and throw stones at Bob.
There was something on the platform which the boys couldn’t quite make out, and which Aunt Amanda and her companion seemed to have considerable trouble with. At last the thing, whatever it was, was lifted to the ground, and dragged slowly along by Bob. Then there was another stop, and more conversation apparently, and then, after a moment of anxiety to Clarkson, Aunt Amanda took some of the parcels from her companion, and now Bob was astride of something. And bowling along in first-class style.
“Oh!”‘ screamed Clarkson, “that is my velocipede. I didn’t know that Aunt Amanda was going to bring it this time. Come on. boys, and see the fun!” and with this the lads started on a run for the travelers.
“How d’ye do. Aunt Amanda?” said Clarkson, as he came panting to the ladys side, with his eyes on the velocipede; and then, without paying the slightest attention to his aunt’s greeting. said, rudely, ” (Get off. Bob, and let me see how it works.” Robert bad come to a full stop, and was about to dismount, when Aunt Amanda interfered. “What do you mean, Clarkson?” she inquired, sternly.
“Why. it’s my velocipede— isn’t it?” he replied impertinently. “And if it is mine, I don I see why I can’t have it,” he added, giving Robert a hard push at the same time. “Why Clarkson, I don’t want your velocipede!” said Robert, kindly. ” Let him have it. Miss Day. please, and give me the rest of the bundles.”
” Robert, get on to that velocipede,” Aunt Amanda replied, ” and don’t say another word;” ad then, turning to her nephew, said. ” Clarkson, why didn’t you meet me at the depot?” ” Because I was shining mv runners,” the boy replied, ” and Bob said he’d go, and so mamma let him.” “You were ashamed to be seen carrying auntie’s bundles” the lady went on; “but when you found there was a velocipede, you were quite willing to ride that home.”
“I’ll be even with you, Bob Clifton, for telling tales,” said Clarkson, giving himself away completely. ”Well, you did say you wouldn’t bring the bundles,” spoke up one of the boys, quite ready to give evidence for the winning side.
“Robert has told no ta’es,” said auntie, sternly; “and now. Clarkson. I have something to tell you. I did buy
that velocipede for you. but you have forfeited all right to it by your ungentlemanly and disobliging behavior, and it is yours no longer. Robert, I give | the velocipede to you, with my thanks for the many favers you have done me. Ride straight home now. and I will come in and tell your father and mother all
about it by and by.
“Oh! please don’t!” Bob began, with a sympathetic look at his crestfallen companion. “Nothing on earth would induce me to allow Clarkson to have it,” said auntie, with decision; “and now let me see, Bob, how fast the machine will go.” Clarkson s face was dark with passion as Robert rolled on ahead. But he had made all the trouble himself, so there was very little he could say in his own behalf.
This wax a sorry Thanksgiving for poor Clarkson; but who will say that he was not well served?
The next time Aunt Amanda was expected to make a visit, Clarkson was at the depot an hour before the train arrived, but he has not been given a velocipede yet. — Sunday School Times.