Life — September 2, 1897 — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

As Advertised. STRICTLY HIGH-GRADE BICYCLES. "97 Models. Choice of Attach- ments. Formerly at $100. While | they last, at $c7.so!! HE foregoing advertisement, in a morn- ing paper, attracted Rhodes the other day, and at the first opportunity he hurried to the address given, An exceedingly affable gentleman met him, and without delay began to expatiate upon the beauty, the superior construction and the speed of the wheel in the window, which bore a placard reading: “*St7.s0, As Advertised.” The consequence was that within ten minutes my friend had enthusiastically ordered one. “Now,” said the affable person, drawing from his pocket a pad and a pencil, ‘how about tires?" “Why—er—what do you mean?" asked Rhodes, wonderingly. ‘1 mean, what make do you prefer—Hard- fit, Rim, or N. & G, tires?” As Rhodes didn't know one tire from an- other, he said that those on the bicycle would d ery well, sir," replied the affable person, making a note upon his pad, ‘‘they are ten dollars.”” “Ten dollars!" ejaculated Rhodes. ‘Don't they come with the bicycle?” The affable person gazed at him with a look of wonder, that rapidly changed to ex- treme pity. “Surely, my dear sir,” said he, ‘you didn’t suppose we gave ten-dollar tires with a seven- teen-dollar wheel? No, indeed; I’m sure you didn’t think any such ridiculous thing as that!" Rhodes felt very uncomfortable, and said, “* Of course not.”” “*As for the saddle,” resumed the afiable person, brightening up again, “you may have any make on the market.” “* Er—you give—that is, of course the sad- dle comes with the wheel ?”” “Certainly, my dear sir, We'll deliver the saddle at the same time that we do the machine. It will cost you about five dollars more—unless you wish a hard saddle.” “So the saddle is extra, too ?” exclaimed “LOOK AT ME, 1E THE GAL WOT GETS ME ‘LL HAVE A SNAP, FOR 1 DON’T CHEW, SMOKE, OR GIT DRUNK!" Rhodes, with an expression of keen disap- pointment, as he realized that his $17.50 had grown to $32.50. “I'm afraid,” said the salesman, conde- scendingly, ‘‘that you have never bought a wheel before.” Rhodes looked ashamed of himself, “Because if you had, you would never ex- pect to get all the attachments for nothing. And let me assure you, my dear sir, that as it is, you are getting a decided bargain. Now, of course you want wooden handle- bars. They will cost you but three dollars. Will you have rat-trap or rubber pedals?" “ Er—don't they come—"" “My dear sir!" expostulated the affable person. “*Well, give me rubber," said Rhodes, in despair, as he heard, ‘‘ Five per pair,” and saw $40.50 dancing before him in figures of fire. * Just asa friendly deal, as you have acted so sensibly in this matter,” resumed the salesman, ina confidential tone, ‘I'll let you have the wooden rims, the piano-wire spokes, the non-grinding hubs and the sprockets for $t5.s0."" Rhodes gasped for breath, and the affable one put down $56.00. “*You'll want a lantern,” he went on, sweetly, jotting down the figures as he talked, ‘five dollars; a bell, two fifty; pair of toe-clips, fifty cents; cyclometer, four dol- lars; adjustable mud-guard, one dollar; re- pair kit, fifty cents; bottle of oil, fifty cents; floor pump, one fifty; stand, one dollar; and—let me see—well, well! I forgot the chain, three dollars. That will make the total—” “*Excuse me,” interrupted Rhodes, in a weak but determined voice, as he turned toward the street door, ‘I haven't a doubt about this being the opportunity of a life- time, and all that; but I haven't the good fortune to belong to the Sugar Trust, and I think I'll have to be satisfied this year with some ordinary hundred-dollar affair. Good- day.” Wallace Dunbar Vincent,