To Boston boys Decoration-day of this year was a day long to be remembered; for in addition to the usual military parade, with its wagon-loads of flowers and beautiful floral designs to be placed on soldiers' graves, they had another procession to review—one that was as novel as it was interesting. It was a procession, a mile and a half long, of bicyclers; or, as they are more generally called in this country, "wheelmen." They were the members of the League of American Wheelmen (L.A.W.), gathered, 800 strong, for their annual meeting; and as they rode through the beautiful streets of what is known in Boston as the "Back Bay District," in double file, with gay silken flags marking the positions of the various clubs, bugles sounding, burnished wheels flashing in the sunlight, and thousands of spectators cheering, many a Boston boy determined then and there to become a wheelman.

While most of the wheelmen in this gay procession were men, its rear was brought up by some fifteen or twenty boys, who, under charge of one of the most experienced and graceful riders of the country, made a most creditable show, and proved themselves to be good and careful riders. The picture on the preceding page shows the contrast between them on their 36 or 40 inch bicycles, and their tall Captain on his 56-inch machine.

In the evening the wheelmen had Boston Music Hall, with its great organ, all to themselves, and here the most expert among them gave exhibitions of fancy riding that were very wonderful, as you may imagine by looking at the picture, and seeing "the way some folks ride."

Now it does not seem to me at all surprising that, after seeing all this, the Boston boy should be filled with an intense desire to become a wheelman; nor should I be surprised if every boy who reads this article should also long to own and ride a bicycle.

Well, if you, or your parents for you, can afford it, and you are a strong, healthy boy, there is no reason why you should not become a wheelman, and join the great parade that will take place on the 30th of May next year.

Some boys are afraid that they will fall while learning to ride, and therefore don't dare try. Such boys will never learn, nor do we want any cowards among our wheelmen. Of course there must be some falls, and some little danger attends the sport; but no more boys are hurt in learning to ride or in riding a bicycle than by foot-ball, base-ball, cricket, lacrosse, horseback-riding, or a dozen other manly sports in which boys always have engaged and always will. A little experience will soon teach the rider how to exercise the care necessary to prevent falls. He will learn to lean well back in his saddle when descending a hill, when about to apply his brake, or upon striking a stone or other obstacle. He will learn to lean forward when ascending a hill, and to dismount rather than to try and force his machine through sand.

That bicycling is a healthy exercise is a fact beyond dispute, as any physician who has the slightest knowledge of the bicycle will assure you. Velocipedes, or "bone-shakers," were injurious; bicycles are not.

Good bicycles for boys of from ten to sixteen years of age can be bought for from twelve to twenty dollars, and the very best will not cost over fifty dollars.

A good, easy-running bicycle can be driven up any ordinary hill, provided the road be smooth and hard, and a party of wheelmen, travelling over the ordinary roads of the Eastern States, will cover greater distances each day than if their means of conveyance were horses and carriage.

A moderate amount of luggage, sufficient for a week's trip, may be carried on the bicycle without inconvenience, and the perfection that has been reached in hub and head lamps renders it almost as safe and easy to ride by night as by day.

The best and most sensible bicycling suit consists of the uniform adopted by the L.A.W., which is of light gray throughout—blouse, flannel shirt, breeches, stockings, and polo cap, or helmet. If too warm, the rider can take off his blouse, and carry it very comfortably, rolled tightly, and strapped to the handle-bar of his bicycle.

Before closing I want to say a word about drinking. When a rider becomes very warm, and perspires freely, the temptation to drink, and to drink a quantity of almost anything that offers, is very great. Refrain from drinking anything just as long as you can, except at meal-time, or after your day's ride is over. The more you drink, the greater will be the desire to do so. If, while riding, your thirst becomes unbearable, to rinse your mouth several times, and take but one swallow of cool water, will refresh you as much as, and do you more good than, copious draughts. In riding through the country, be very careful where and what you drink. Water from wells or springs in small quantities is generally good. Water from ponds or streams is apt to be bad. Milk and lemonade are both good. In England the wheelman's favorite drink is milk and soda; in this country it is a soda lemonade: both are good. Beer is bad, very bad—almost the worst thing you could drink. It does not quench thirst, but increases it. It causes you to perspire freely, it takes away your wind, and leaves you panting and exhausted at the top of easy hills.

If the boys who are interested in bicycling have any questions to ask that have not already been answered, let them address "The Captain," through Our Post-office Box, and he will try and furnish the desired information.