nk I shall make the best use of my powers.
Dont you, my dear?

And yet I cannot help loving you so,
May, my dear,
That the old words, whether I will or no,
I say, my dear,
And how you are fair, and how you are sweet
My loving lips forever repeat.--
And is that the reason you pass so fleet?
Ah! stay, my dear!

THE GIRLS' TRICYCLE CLUB AND ITS RUN DOWN THE CAPE.

BY E. VINTON BLAKE.

Tricycles had become an every-day affair in Sherridoc, and since the
formation of the Girls' Club, lady tricyclers were not an extraordinary
sight. So Charlotte, or "Charley" Van Rensselaer, as she was called, and
her brother Starrett excited but little comment as they wheeled swiftly
down Haymarket street, moving noiselessly and easily through the throng
of carriages and other vehicles, until, as the houses grew less frequent
and the pavements stopped altogether, they rolled through the suburbs of
the town and so into the open country, without stay or pause.

For they were making time. The club itself, thanks to the failure of the
express company to deliver Charley's new "Columbia" when promised, had
several hours' start on the road; and Starrett, like the obliging
brother that he was, had remained behind in order that Charlotte need
not ride alone nor the club be longer delayed by waiting for her.

Charley Van Rensselaer, her cousin Cornelia, or "Corny" Hadwin, and
their warm friends Mattie Hyde and Arno Cummings, were four bright and
active young girls of from thirteen to sixteen, who composed the Girls'
Tricycle Club. Little by little they had won first the interest and then
the consent of their somewhat conservative parents to this novel but
exhilarating exercise, and having now become expert riders, they were
off for a long run of eighty miles down Cape Cod from Sherridoc City to
Curtin Harbor, where their parents had summer cottages. Faithful and
clever Joe Marston, Mr. Van Rensselaer's colored servant, and an expert
tricycler, had gone ahead with the club as guide and commissary-general,
and Starrett Van Rensselaer, Charley's younger brother, was invited to
accompany them as an escort, on the odd-looking "Royal Mail" he had
borrowed for the trip,--bicycles not being allowed.

And now the door-yards broaden out and the houses become still more
rambling. There are wide-spreading orchard boughs, and cool woody spaces
here and the