The Washington herald., 1922-10-29
Mcintyre and Friend Wife Take Shivery Airplane
Journey from British Capital to "Gay Paree''
Agent Made Out Tickets
Before Writer Could
Shoot Him.
MADE THREE WILLS
Disappointed Bevy Of Pretty
Girls Did Not Meet Him
In France.
BY o. O. MCINTYRE,


IN HAVE never been able to ride
atop a Fifth avenue bus withou,
growing dizzy. Yet my wife talked
me into flying from London to Paris.
It was in a London hotel that it all
started. We were at dinner.
"Dearie," she said casually. I'VE
are flying to Paris day after tomor-
row."
Fine" I replied. "and do you
know any more good jokes!"
But 1 caught a CLEAN in her eye
that made me serious.
So added. Don't be q silly
pickle. The plane that went over
| yesterday is still lost in a fog.
Two have dropped In the English
Channel. In another a passenger
went crazy and shot the pilot"
She changed the subject and
! felt my masterful argument had
won. The next morning when we
started out for breakfast she said
she had to stop at the Air Line Of
flee in the Haymarket to get her
ticket.
Ticket for what?" / inquired.
'To fly to Paris.''
DO you mean you are going
alone?"
YES, IL you are afraid''-and she
so with me-"
stated with much haughtiness that
Ia, 1T L.
she ordered I'd go over and get the
tickets. She agreed. I left her at
simpsons, walked around the block
twice and came back with q crest
fallen look.
disappointment in my voice; they
are sold out for three weeks. No
chance to fiy.''
French Line Next.
Did you try the French line?"
she asked. Then / knew / was
sunk. might trust myself in a
pinch to an English aviator, but to
an excitable FTenchman? Never:
o. what a tangled web we weave
when first we practice to deceive
or words to that effect. So after
breakfast we went to the French
All Line Office.
"I want two tickets to Paris"
said to the clerk-winking ana
shaking my head to convey the idea
to him that 1 didn't want them.
Fine" he said. Il have two
seats right in front"
BeforesI could shoot him. he was
seat. of all places. II had to 60 /
tn hide npdar hsol ,aat
All that. day / moped around my
hotsl. / wrote three wills before
remembering l didn't have any
thing to will. l was spending it
all in England
when my wife came in from a
shopping tour-some women can
shop en- route to the guillotine-I
was quiet and grave. That night
l remained awake and wrote head
lines for New York newspapers
Something like this:
American Breaks Neck in French
Plane.
Plane, Lost in Fog. Believed to
Be in Swiss Alps.
English Channel Dragged for
Plane Victims.
Nothing Heard from French Air
plane with Americans.
] don't believe l have ever spoken
So harshly to my wife as I did the
next morning. l heard her whis-
Ting in the bathroom. I went to
the door and shouted: stop that
durn whistling! Don't you know
we die today?"
Our trunk had gone by night train
from Charing Cross. There was
nothing left but to go or show the
white feather. So ] paid the hotel
bill and started out to the air line
private car that came for us.
The hotel porter said: Flying
today. sir?" l nodded my head in
assent.
Regular joy Killer.
He scanned the clouds. "A bit
of nasty 'aze springing up" he
remarked.
You go to Hades," / retorted.
And we started out through
sleepy London to the flying field.
There were dozens of planes there.
I wore my overcoat so the crowd