I have noticed with unfeigned and real pleasure,
    The rapid growth of Cycling. (How it jumps!)
  To those who have the energy and leisure
    It affords—­(Confound this saddle! it so bumps!)
  What otherwise would be quite unattainable,
    A healthy, and a pleasurable form
  Of exercise. (Yes, health is hereby gainable;
    But I am most uncomfortably warm!)

  It gives them the advantages of travel,
    (By Jingo!  I was nearly over then!
  A tumble and the “gravel-rash” would gravel
    The nimblest of extremely Grand Old Men)
  Which, previous to the Cycle’s happy advent,
    Were out of almost everybody’s reach.
  (And to the “spirits” of the cycling-cad vent.
    ’Arry on Wheels the law must manners teach.)

  It’s really very much more profitable
    Than is the long luxurious rail way journey.
  (If in the saddle I feel not more stable,
    I’ll be “unhorsed,” like tilter in a tourney!)
  Monotonous the journey from the City,
    Along a fixed unalterable route.
  (This is an old “bone-shaker.”  ’Tis a pity!
    For over the front wheel one’s apt to shoot.)

  The traveller’s whirled from station unto station,
    (I wish there were more stations on this road,)
  With hardly half a chance for observation.
    (If I know where I am, may I be blowed!),
  Without an opportunity to examine
    The district. (Wish that I could spot a pub!
  For I am overdone with thirst and famine,
    And see no chance of tipple or of grub!)

  (I must travel many miles o’er clay or cobble,
    I fear, before I’ll have a real rest,
  The big wheel and the little shift and wobble,
    I think the low pneumatic Cycle’s best.
  Eh?  “Dangerous to Cyclists!” That’s a notice,
    I fancy, that suggests a spin down-hill.
  How stiff I feel!  How very parched my throat is!
    Hold up!  By Jove, but that was near a spill!)

  I emphasise the fact that I consider
    That, physically—­(Pheugh! that little wheel
  Is dangerous as poor old WELLER’s “widder,”)
    Yes, morally, and socially, I feel
  The benefits of Cycling are unbounded,
    Almost—­(Almost I fear a nasty fall!
  I wish, with big and little wheel confounded,
    That I were on a Safety, after all!)

* * * * *

WHISPER BY AN ILL WIND.—­If Alderman KNILL cannot conscientiously attend the Established Church service, whereat it is not essential for a Lord Mayor to be present, the Court of Aldermen ought to be proud of him, and elect him “Willy-Knilly” to be Lord Mayor all the same.  Whatever may be the result, of Alderman KNILL nothing but good can be said. “Nil nisi bonum.”