The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1937-01-01
The Second Instinct
BY RICHARD HILL WILKINSON
Q Associated Newspapers.
WNU Service.
ID sYCHOLoGIsTs tell us that the

human being is born with but
two instincts. One of these is fear.
But if man is afraid, man is there
fore a coward. Yet the greatest
coward Of all Is the man who lacks
the courage to admit his fear.
Ferdie Gleason sat in the cockpit
of the plane and looked out at the
girl. The girl, Jill Evans by name,
was standing some distance away,
talking to a man wearing breechcs
and leather jacket and boots. AS
he talked he twirled an aviator's
helmet about his finger and smiled
pleasantly. The mans name was
Ted Vesta, and Ferdie suspected
that they were talking about him,
and laughing at him, too. Ferdie
watched them, and flushed to the
roots of his hair.
Everything had been all right I'M
til Ted Vesta foated down out of
the clouds one day in his tri-mo-
tored mono. Ted had a s9ckful of
medals and newspaper clippings
about himself, which he didn't have
to show because every one knew
how famous he was anyhow. He
met Jill Evans at dance two nights
later, and that was the beginning Of
something that changed F'erdie's
whole life.
Ferdie hated airplanes. He was
afraid of them because the in
stinctive fear of falling with which
he had been born was strongly en-
bedded. But the way he felt, he'd
rather fall from a 10,000-foot al
titude than admit this fear to Jill
Evans. Unhappily, he loved her.
All this explains why Ferdie was
sitting in the cockpit of a certain
airplane on a certain bright after
noon. He was waiting for Instructor
Ben Upton to climb in beside him
for his fourth lesson in flying. All
told, Ferdie had had three hours of
instruction. Jill and Ted Vesta had
come out to see how he was doing
and to laugh at him. That's what
burned Ferdie up. He thought rue
fully, dismally of what little chance
he had, now that Ted Vesta was his
rival. 1t would take-why, it would
take years to become as famous a
fier as Ted, and in the meantime
Ferdie's cheeks drained of color.
Good Lord! Did Upton expect him
to fly the thing alone after a mere
three lessons? He glanced over the
cockpit toward Jill and Ted. They
had ceased talking and were look
ing at him. Jill waved her hand in
salute and smiled.
The plane wobbled little on the
runway, righted itself, gathered
speed. At the far end it lifted, rose
evenly, cleared the fringe of trees
at the southeast boundary, climbed
steadily. At 1000 feet it levelled off,
banked and circled back over the
field, levelled out again, fought once
more for altitude and reached $500,
levelled once more and banked.
Ferdie wasn't reasoning. He
couldn't reason. His body felt numb,
paralyzed with a horrible despera-
ton. He shut his eyes. Clearly he
heard the voice of Ben Upton. It
was yesterday. Ben was sitting be-
side him, speaking into the ear
phones, telling him what to do
and how to do it, calm, reassuring,
unhurried. Mechanically, uncon-
sciously Ferdie worked the stick.
He opened his eyes and looked down.
He saw a speck of white, and knew
it to be the snow-white jacket worn
by Jill Evans.
High above the very edge of the
ocean, where the breakers tumbled
and foamed, the plane banked again,
circled, came back, roared over the
field, turned once more and dipped.
Its motor decreased in volume. It
came in evenly, utilizing every
ounce of wind pressure, skinned the
earth, alighted. A dust cloud arose,
the motor roared, then died. Ferdie
looked over the cockpit's edge.
Ben Upton came up on the run.
"You fool! What's the idea?"
Didn't I do-all right"
"All right, yes. But you ought to
know better-after three lessons"
"You said to take her up"
Ben's mouth fell ajar. He stared
and then understanding came. IT
said to warm her up not take
her up"
Jill Evans was coming across the
field, followed by Vesta.
''Why, Ferdie, it was grand! L
honestly, couldn't believe it. Even
Ted admitted he wouldn't have
dared-after his third lesson" She
leaned over the cockpit's edge. Fer
die grasped her hand and hung on.
He looked into her eyes and felt
different, better.