Much has been said and written of late concerning the "bicycle face," the face which results from the pace that kills; the tense, drawn face, suggesting a dark brown taste and an interview with his wife's mother the next morning; the face upon which carking care has set her seal, as a result of trying to keep the blamed thing from wobbling, and both feet on the pedals at one and the same time. It is a familiar face, but it is not attractive. It is like the water one puts into whiskey.

This face, which is fin de siecle, has finally made its appearance in the city council. Those who have supposed that the face of a city father is not susceptible will naturally be surprised, but, except in the case of Assemblyman Robb, there is no reason why an alderman or an assemblyman should not be facially affected by environment. Mr. Robb, however, has not had a fair test, because he does not ride a bicycle. That is where Assemblymen Parker and Johnson have the advantage of him, for they do, and they have a very fair case of bicycle face.

It is more pronounced, perhaps, in the case of Mr. Parker. Mr. Johnson has been worried so long about the disposition of garbage that his countenance was already a fair second to the bicycle face before he started in, but Mr. Parker had had no such advantages. He had to depend entirely upon the bicycle, and he has learned, to his deep and unmitigated sorrow, that a bicycle is not to be depended upon any more than Alderman Hare's casual references to an intimate acquaintance with God.

Assemblyman Parker's first bicycle was not a success. The bicycle itself may have differed and claimed that Mr. Parker was not a success, but that is another story. The assemblyman learned to ride, as he thought, and then he sallied forth to Como, where, in common with others, he might watch the merry gambole of C. S. ee, Judge Orr, Judge Cory and others of our great and good men. He reached Como, but while tooling along one of the by-paths, he lost one of the pedals.

Now, the peculiarity of a bicycle is that it steers as much with the pedal as with the handle bar. Accordingly, when Mr. Parker lost one of his feet, as it were, the other came down hard, the bicycle flew a tangent and trouble ensued. The bicycle made for a tree which had not previously attracted the notice of Mr. Parker, and when a rescue party reached the place it was found that both man and wheel were wrecks and that Mr. Parker had a very fair example of bicycle face. Since then, however, Mr. Parker has purchased another bicycle, and he now wears toe clips, but he cannot get rid of that bicycle cast countenance which gives cards and spades to the frontispiece of the man who has a note to pay tomorrow.