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 people gather at Springfield, Massachusetts, to view the bicycle contests. But what is that handful in a nation of seventy millions? In or near a great city—say in its golfing links—patterned after the best plans of ancient Greece and Rome—or better ones yet—suppose we had a first-class half-mile oval track, with enough seats around one-half of it to accommodate, not the eighty-three thousand of the Roman Coliseum, which, 615 feet long, was not so much longer than Madison Square Garden, New York, though, 510 feet wide and 150 feet high, with its marble seats, and cushions, it was much higher and wider; not the open plains of Olympia, in Elis, where an entire nation could congregate; but where say one hundred thousand persons could all be comfortable, could all see all of the contests, and could get to and from there safely, swiftly, and with ease. When the demand increased, as it soon would do; seat the whole oval; while the four-in-hands and other turnouts could have the central field. No more charging half a dollar or several dollars to get in. Twenty-five cents for the best seats, and ten for the others, would be ample entrance-fee. Had in the summer months, as the ancients had theirs; or in mild October, when the merchants' associations invite the buyers from all over the land to come to town, and bring their wives and daughters; with car-fares at last a cent a mile, as they should have been years ago; any convenient hill-side holding half of the seats, and a stout though cheap structure on the other side, such as sprung up in a night almost when General Grant's tomb was dedicated; and the cinder-path, the gridiron, and the field would be easy to provide. A cycling race before such a mighty gathering would indeed be an impressive spectacle. The best runners on that track; the best wrestlers on that