He
met his sweetheart on the road,
He’d never seen her wheeling;
And
as he saw the garb she wore,
His heart did burst with feeling.
He
was a proper, nice young man,
Their wedding day was settled;
But
when he spoke, the darling knew
Her cycling days were kettled.
“I
cans’t marry you,” he said,
Despite all ‘dates’ and ‘rumors’;
I
cannot, will not, call you mine,
Until you shed-those-bloomers.”
June
2, 1895
Pub.
in B. Courier,
June
23, 1895
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