Over a year ago I met with a "belief" of an accident. To a non-believer in our glorious Truth, the preceding assertion of a belief of an accident may seem strange, but I trust that before I have finished relating certain facts, I shall be able to convince you of the truth of the above statement.
On a Thursday morning I started, as usual, for my daily occupation. Having been delayed in starting, I had chosen my bicycle as a quicker means of conveyance, and was riding rapidly, but not carelessly, down a steep hill. Just ahead of me were two boys, and, as they rode quickly past a cross street, I felt as if it were safe for me to do likewise. The wheel was going rapidly when just ahead appeared a huckster's wagon. The man who was driving saw me, became confused, and, instead of keeping on, which would have averted any collision, stopped. It seemed impossible to stop the wheel. At the right was a small space which was the only means of escape. I steered the wheel quickly towards the opening, and at the same time the huckster backed his wagon. Quick as a flash the thought came to me, "God is my life." I was not afraid, and did not scream. The crash came. I was thrown violently against the wagon. My head struck the corner of the seat with enough force to cause me to rebound. I landed on my feet, perfectly conscious, as the following will show.
It is a joke among the wheeling fraternity that one thinks first of his wheel and then of himself. As I had realized no sensation whatever of pain, I naturally looked after the bicycle, which had passed between the two side wheels of the wagon, and lay underneath, on its side, uninjured. I crawled under the wagon and drew the bicycle out before the man had had time to come to my assistance. Then I hailed a little boy, sent him to my destination to tell those who were expecting me that I had been delayed, and would be with them as soon as possible. As I spoke, the blood gushed forcibly from my head. This was the first sign I had had of any seeming injury. I went into a neighboring house to brush and clean myself, for I was in a sorry plight. The woman into whose house I went was so filled with fear that she could do nothing for me, and for about half an hour I received no assistance whatever.
