One Blessing Of The Wheel

I think every girl should ride a wheel,

     And every girl neat bloomers wear;

And in a few weeks she would have red cheeks,

     And a skin most charmingly fair.

Her eyes they would sparkle and shine like gems,

     And her language grow brighter each day;

And her bloomers should be quite up to her knees,

     And not cut too loosely, I say.

For a long, long time I had loved a maid,

     But she seemed too timid and meek;

And she seemed so frail that I checked my tale,

     Each time I determined to speak.

Last summer she purchased a wheel, and I      

     Thought to drive it her ankles to fine;

But when I beheld her in bloomers I yelled,

     And asked her at once to be mine.

March 22, 1896

B. Courier, March 28, ‘97