Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1922-05-25

sometimes ike homemade nylnS ma
chimes. After you got wings, you
don't know how TO use 'em."
"You bet I've been sleeping, Miss
Della, but I'm awake now and-and
you woke me-"
''Flying, Mr.. CAM, is like any other
principle where"
Now just don't you begin to get
right away from the subject of-you
and me like you did last night, Miss
Della, when you wouldn't let me say
what I've got in my heart to-"
Its you who changed the subject,
Mr.. GAM. We were talking about air.
planes and was trying to tell you
that we were standing on the edge Of
the air age. We've finished with the
| Stone age and the Iron age and all
the other ages and now we are ready
for the"
but, Miss Della, what got In my
heart to tell you is more important
| -"
"There are no limits to the airplane,
Mr.. CAM, that's what makes it the
| greatest of all inventions. Mountains,
seas, valleys and rivers won't be any
more of an obstacle to men hereafter
than a relief map is to you, If you
wave your hand over it."
"But-"
II worked in an aero office for six
months, Mr.. GAM. I've heard them
talk first-hand and seen what the boys
with the ideas and the nerve are do
| ing. Why, I know a boy right this
minute who is putting the finishing
touches to a biplane out in his back
shed that not only is going to do the
| fanciest flying this world has ever
seen, but if ever he can get it before
the public, is going to give the gov
| eminent the thrill of its life in nation
al defense. 1 know another fellow,
too, Ed Waller of Dayton, is"
Man wasn't made for flying, Miss
Della, or the Almighty would have
given him wings, just like he wasn't
made for water or he'd have fms"
"And he wasn't made for roller
skating or the Almighty would have
given him casters, is that your idea,
Mr.. Ganz?"
| "Where I'd like to see you, Miss Del
la, is In little nest right down here
close to earth in little elegantly fur
nished, steamboat and janitor-service
fiat-for-tw0 on the south side of Chi
cago."
you're like mommy and papa, you
haven't the vision of an owl in the
sun. That's what's the matter with all
of you. All your noses are worn off at
the end from the grindstone. You've
never dreamed a dream. You've never
sat in an airplane and felt it give that
little pulling lift that clears the
ground, and suddenly felt yourself
skimming up past the swallows to the
sky. Oh! oh! Obi"
But, Miss Della, know a young
man got consumption from such high
air as that. He"
"It's the boys with the dreams and
the imagination and the fifth dimen-
sion in thinking, Mr.. CAM, not the
! grindstoners, who have given the
world the jolts and modern convent
ences. Take Bjorn Bjorstedt, the first
man to volplane in the great exhibit
| flights at Great Neck. There's a fell
low who slept on park benches and
ate from door to door, so he could put
every cent in perfecting that engine
of his. Take Arch Meyer, the fellow l
was telling you about That boy could
make easy money in any business he
made up his mind to, but what does
he do, give up his dream? He does
not. He's going to demonstrate by
fancy flying and housekeeping the
loop four times his first exhibit, that
his heavy machine is the most prac-
| tical-"
But to get back, little Cutey, to
that nest for two. Don't think, Miss
Della, this pain in my left side is
sciatica. It's just like, Miss Della, you
had taken little arrow and stabbed
me right through the heart"
"What 1 was trying to show you,
Mr.. CAM, is that you're wrong about
flying. If you were to get yourself
interested in the greatest invention
Of all time and put up purse now
and then for fancy flying, to help
along the boys who are grinning back
at death and making the history Of
the airplane, you'd get so wrapped up
| In the vitals that make heavier-than-
air-machine fly, and-that maybe
you'd forget your own vitals, Mr..
CAM. Just try to imagine yourself
flying at night, Mr.. CAM, with the air
like ink around you, and
"The night air Is bad for me, Miss
Della, my joints"
might airI" cried Miss Della,
thrusting her face forward as if she
would drink in aerial champagne.
"Why, the day they shut in my sleep
ing porch at home and I've got to stop
smelling the stars all night, then let
me die, say I, let me diel"
"There was a time, Miss Della, /
n