Spindle(29)

Briar felt heat rising in her neck. She shrugged it off. “He’s started his adventure.”

Miss Olive had finished handing out the mail and now stood, hands clasped, waiting for everyone to settle in. She had a big smile, which meant she was more excited than usual about today’s topic.

“I will begin with a recitation from last September’s Outing Magazine, a poem from Madeline S. Bridges:

The maiden with her wheel of old

Sat by the fire to spin,

While lightly through her careful hold

The flax slid out and in.

To-day her distaff, rock and reel

Far out of sight are hurled,

For now the maiden with her wheel

Goes spinning round the world.

Miss Olive gestured to the parlor door.

The mill girls looked questioningly at one another, then simultaneously turned to the door as a woman in reform clothes strode in with a bicycle.

Gasps sounded, followed by excited voices.

Miss Olive raised her voice above the others. “Today is a new day for you girls. I’ve managed to make a little purchase for us to share, and I’ve invited a guest to teach us how to use the new safety bicycle.”

Murmured excitement continued to spread through the room. Briar sat up eagerly. She’d always wanted to try riding a bicycle.

“Hush, hush, we’ll all get a turn. First, let Miss Spence give us the basics of being a wheel woman, then we’ll take the vehicle outside and give it a try.”

Mim stood, hands on hips. “No way. You can make me come to these meetings, but I’m not riding that thing.” She held out her full skirt as if to emphasize the ridiculousness of the notion.

“You need yourself some bloomers!” called out Hettie, a sharp-witted weaver. She peeled with laughter at Mim’s shocked face.

“Never,” said Mim. “You’ll never see me out in public in bloomers.” She sat down in a huff and said to the room, “You won’t either if you want husbands. Men don’t like women who push their freedom.”

Ethel reached across Mary and pinched Mim.

“Ouch. What did you do that for?” Mim rubbed her arm, which was already turning red.

“If you don’t know, I should’ve done it harder. Be polite and listen up. You might learn something,” she whispered.

Miss Spence continued on as if nothing had happened. “Bicycling will not only improve your health, but you will also come to recognize it as a freedom machine. I’ve recently come from Massachusetts, where I witnessed with my own eyes Annie Londonderry setting out on her bicycle to wheel around the world. Like Nellie Bly, who only a few short years ago traveled around the world unaccompanied, Annie Londonderry is demonstrating what the new woman is capable of achieving.”

Heads nodded around the room. The male operatives had told them how much they like cycling. You didn’t have to ask permission to take the horse out, or spend so much time walking.

“I will teach you first to get on the seat, to pedal, to turn, and to dismount. A bicycle is not as expensive as a horse. It is within reach of all of you, especially these new safety bicycles. They even have skirt guards on the back tire, although if you are serious about wheeling, I suggest reform clothes.”

Everyone couldn’t help but look at Mim. She gave them all a grimace.

The bicycle looked fun. If Briar had one of those, she could go back and forth to the cottage every night instead of living in the boardinghouse. She added the idea of purchasing a bicycle to her list of possible ways to keep the family together.

“Susan B. Anthony says herself that the bicycle ‘has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world. It gives them a feeling of freedom and self-reliance.’ Furthermore, ‘The moment she takes her seat she knows she can’t get into harm unless she gets off her bicycle, and away she goes, the picture of free, untrammeled womanhood.’”

Miss Spence slapped the seat. “And even Frances Willard promotes riding the bicycle to help women to a wider world.” She paused and smiled at them one by one. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”

Miss Spence’s sermon over, she clapped her hands. “Who wants to go first?”

“If I’m to teach the girls, I’d better learn first,” Miss Olive said.

In all eagerness, the mill girls filed out of the house and lined up along the porch. The sun had gone behind the mountains and the lamplighter had already started turning on the gas street lamps, creating scattered puddles of pale yellow on the dirt road.

With Miss Spence holding the bicycle, Miss Olive gathered her skirts and hoisted herself onto the seat with a giggle.

“Do as I demonstrated earlier,” admonished Miss Spence. “Your body’s natural sense of balance will take over if you do not hesitate. Push and don’t stop pedaling. The pedals turn with the back wheel so your feet will keep rotating with the wheel. If you need a rest, or you feel your skirts are getting twisted in the pedals, put your feet up on these coaster brackets.”

And with that, the two women set off, Miss Olive laughing loud, and Miss Spence running to keep up.

“She’s doing it!” called the mill girls encouragingly. “Keep going, Miss Olive!”

Neighbors opened their doors to see what was going on, and soon it looked like a parade with people lined up on the street watching. Miss Spence was coaching Miss Olive on how to turn when the front wheel began to wobble. The girls held their collective breaths and watched. She straightened out and began cycling back confidently, breaking away from the attentions of Miss Spence.