If Your Children Cry for Bread, Will Ye Give Them a Stone? - The Wheelmen's gazette April, 1886

Go to page 54 of The Wheelmen's gazette, 1886, or follow this link to the page. I can't embed it at the right page.

"If Your Children Cry for Bread, Will Ye Give Them a Stone?"

H. W. BURMESTER and J. J. Bliss, two California wheelmen, made a century run around the Bay of San Francisco on the 25th of March, starting from San Francisco shortly after midnight, Sunday morning. The first portion of the run was by moonlight, but neither had a fall or mishap of any kind on the trip.

The exertion of the first forty odd miles in the cold night air, induced hunger, and this, added to the loss of sleep, made Burmester somewhat faint. He had been working hard during the previous day and did not close his store until about an hour before the start. After reaching Santa Clara he declared that he could go no further without food, though then within three miles of San Jose, where the first half of the run ended and where it had been determined to breakfast. Burmester, encouraged by his companion, decided however to try to make the Fredericksburg brewery, between Santa Clara and San Jose, and there get beer and sandwiches to carry them through till breakfast. Although within a short distance of the brewery, the way seemed long and one or two pauses were made. The desperate feeling, caused by the void in the empty stomach, caused Burmester to ask the first person he met, while wheeling by, presumably on the chance of getting same encouragement from the expected reply that it was nearby (for he well knew that it was not very far), "How far is it to the Fredericksburg brewery?"

The reply, however, was not of the kind anticipated. Burmester's divining powers, in his then hungry condition, had not permitted him to perceive that he had accosted a minister of the gospel, who said: "You do not want a brewery, young man, you want a church." Then, perhaps noticing the forlorn, travel stained appearance of the wheelmen, the clerical gentleman shouted after them, "You go down there, two miles to the right!"

[Henry was 28. - MF]

This was the last camel on the feather's back. This was adding injury to unkindness, and Burmester for some time could not refrain from making uncomplimentary remarks about the preacher who would intimate to him at such a time that the desired place for refreshment was two miles distant to the right, when it was in truth less than half a mile to the left.

The question arises, is a clerical sermon of the most potent and soul satisfying description, capable of furnishing the kind of assistance and refreshment needed by a starving wayfarer.

Bliss had a hearty laugh over Burmester's mistake, and considers the joke on him too good to let it pass entirely unknown to others.

He desires to add, however, that after the needed food and other refreshments, the remainder of the journey (some fifty odd miles) was reeled off in fine time and shape, considering that a strong head wind was encountered over the greater part of the last half of the trip.