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THE LADIES' CYCLING CLUB BERKELEY ATHLETES CRESCENT CLUB Sat, Jun 1, 1895 – Page 9 · The San Francisco Call (San Francisco, San Francisco, California, United States of America) · Newspapers.com
THE LADIES' CYCLING CLUB.
An Insight Into the Mysteries of This Popular Club.
SAN JOSE. Cal.. May 31, 1895. — On Saturday. May 25, Miss Lottie Brosius, Miss Ryder and Miss Pffenberger rode to Oakland in four and one-half hours, Miss Brosius returning the same day in three and one-half hours, making the century run in eight-hours. She rode a diamondframe wheel weighing about twenty pounds.Next week I shall present Miss Brosius' picture in her bloomer costume. [See below. -MF] This little lady is one of our best wheel-women, thinking nothing of riding to San Francisco and spending the day spinning about the City, cable-slots and coalcarts causing her not the least discomfort as she darts about the crowded streets.
Captain Celine Delmas of the Ladies' Cycling Club has called a cherry run for Monday. June 3. [I think Celine and Antonio "Tony" Delmas were siblings. He is mentioned in a lot of the race results from the era. -MF] This should be well attended, as a great deal of pleasure is anticipated eating this fruit so plentiful in our beautiful valley. On June 15 the club will visit Santa Cruz in a body to enjoy the entertainment on that occasion.
A GROUP OF THE LADIES' CYCLING CLUB OF SAN JOSE. |
It has been my pleasure within the past month to meet a majority of its members, and truly they are a merry lot. Such a chatter at the photographer's the morning the club picture was to be taken! A veritable bedlam, where everything was discussed from "Trilby" to the latest things I in sleeves. Imagine the shower of "he said's" and "they say's" floating around the picture-frames! But that picture! Well, it speaks for itself. Now, truly, did you ever see a merrier band of lassies?
Unfortunately, but seventeen of the thirty members could be present, these being the Misses Susie and Rena Hubbard, Rayburn, Jones, Wastie, Celine and Nettie Delmas, Murgotten, Cora Edwards. Pete, McKenney, January, Gray, Morrill, Thompson, Graffe and Mrs. Kate Wilcox.
The recent election of officers resulted as follows: President, Miss Sue January; vice-president, Miss Alexander; captain, Miss Celine Delmas; first lieutenant, Miss Florita Pete; second lieutenant, Miss Nellie Seybolt; bugler, Miss Edith Murgotten.
The bugler objects because she has "nothing to bugle," but I fear me 'twould take a foghorn to make itself heard on a club run. Do I insinuate that they are noisy? Oh, no! not necessarily. But figure for yourselves: If one girl "talks at the rate of 100 words per minute how many words per minute will be cast upon the balmy air by twenty-five girls?
Why is it that so many of our girls think a club run without a few of those wonderful creatures, men, thrown in is not a success? Seems to me we show very poor taste — when we can find such truly charming companions among those of our own sex. Do you know, girls do not try hard enough to please one another. They are too apt, alas! to save for the evening caller the smile that would have cast shadow out of a comrade's heart earlier in the day.
After all, these lords of creation are sorry kings upon a toppling throne, and the new woman, arrayed in everything masculine but buckskin trousers, is simply going to turn that throne upside down and use the pieces to train the young idea how to shoot. True, when the crash comes she may be buried in the ruins, but little will she care as long as she had the satisfaction of causing the commotion. One of the new women I do favor is the cool-as-an-icicle, bicycle, tricycle miss who pedals about our glorious country in bloomers and sweater and declares herself an independent candidate for future health and happiness.
The summer girls, arrayed in dainty silks and lawns, are sweet— certainly they are — but, like the finest cut glass, they are only for company. They are of little use, other than to smile prettily, sigh softly, sing sweetly and die — happily, knowing the swell undertaker will escort them to the door of the very best crematory, and their ashes will repose in a silver urn of the latest design.
Bah! What we want to-day is a woman, not a French doll — a living, breathing creature bubbling over with health and happiness, not a goddess paying doctor's fees. Let us, be-bloomered and be-jacketed, wheel away care and bring happiness to those around us. Don't you agree with
The Girl.
From the San Francisco Call, Volume 78, Number 8, 8 June 1895 paper:
MISS LOTTIE BROSIUS OF SAN JOSE, WHO RODE A CENTURY LAST SUNDAY. |
Charlotte E. "Lottie" Brosius marries R. (Robert) R. Russ:
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