FlightGlobal.com
Home
Premium
Archive
Video
Images
Forum
Atlas
Blogs
Jobs
Shop
RSS
Email Newsletters
You are in:
Home
Aviation History
1913
1913 - 0674.PDF
fTQGHT ARMCHAIR By THE Thank You, Mr. Megaphone Man. I iiAVK noticed this week end at Hendon that the two announcements of which I spoke a fortnight back have been dropped ; and the change is for the better. Moving about in the enclosures as I do, I have noticed that people used to laugh after they had heard it for the twentieth time, and although it is the business of the management to provide amusement for its visitors, this was not quite the way to do it. I noticed also, that there were not so many people out on the course, and I saw a good few try to get on under some excuse or other, and get turned away, and I was pleased. I must not say any more nice things about you just yet, or people will think I hold a good block of shares in your company. I wish I did ! Whew, Guess it's some Warm! This is just the weather when I wish I were an aviator. Fancy, on a day like this, when the mercury is trying its best to push the top out of the thermometer, being up in an aeroplane, with the cool breeze whistling about one's ears : it makes me perspire to think about it. I really think it would be a good idea to take one's summer holidays aeroplaning. Why not ? It might appear at first sight to be a bit expensive, but, when you come to work it out, I don't know that there is so much against it. In all probability in a few years it will be quite the thing. With a base at, say Hendon, and a nice two-seater, some very enjoyable trips out and home to the coast could be made each day. Travelling expenses would be saved, and one could sleep at home each night, saving the "small" amount generally paid for so-called "apartments." I don't suppose I shall have the luck for it to come my way this year, so I am thinking of the next best way to keep cool, and I have given my vote to sitting on a block of ice, up to my neck in the sea, eating ice cream with an icicle, meanwhile a shower bath of American iced drinks plays upon my venerable cranium. If that won't do the trick I had better get a job as a salamander. Yet there is at least one man in London who can keep cool, even now. I dis covered him to-day in Trafalgar Square, and he was an American. I was waiting for a 'bus, and he came up to me. "Say, can yer set me course for Cranbourne street ? " I explained to him where it was— we could nearly see it—"Say, could yer just tote me round? There's no derned blocks in this almighty city, and I keep coming out at the same place again." I gave him a miss in baulk. There are a good many men in London nearly as cool as my American friend, but not quite. You will find them outside the Hendon aerodrome, any day when there is flying on. They bring their best girl to see the flying, and then make her stand outside and catch a glimpse of the machines now and again, when the gates happen to be opened to let a car through. When a good position can be obtained inside, for such a small fee as sixpence, this meanness passes my understanding. One can understand it with small boys, who, most likely, have already spent their Sunday halfpenny; but when I see the hundreds of men out there with real nice girls, who have to keep dodging about to try and see an aeroplane, I feel like treating them all (the girls, I mean) myself. I wonder if it ever strikes them that they are doing a nasty, mean action, standing there to see free of charge that which costs no end of money to produce, just because it is JUNE 28, 1913. REFILECTEOMS. DREAMER. impossible to carry the fence right up to the sky ? They are the sort of men who will find a knot-hole in a hoard ing round a cricket ground, if it cost them the first day of the match, rather than pay threepence to go in like men. I know this is all a waste of time writing about them like this ; they will never see it, unless somebody happens to leave FLIGHT in the train. The idea that they would ever buy one is out of the question. I Have Broken Out in a Fresh Place. I don't know why it is, but every now and again I feel that I must write verse. I suppose, if I were younger, I should find some lady to act as receiving office for my effusions, and pour lyrics in by the ream, to the amuse ment of counsel later, and " much laughter." As, how ever, I happen to have joined the noble army of martyrs, and having no other outlet, I must needs let into you. Now then, get a good grip and hold tight. THE HUM OF THE FIFTY GNOME. Give me the hum of the fifty Gnome, Flying o'er hill and dale, Taking me whither I care to roam, To uplands, or sun-kissed vale. Take me away from the busy street, Away from the township's toil; Give me the hum of the fifty Gnome, The taste of the castor oil. Give me the hum of the fifty Gnome, Give me the chance to go Over the city's cross-topped dome, Over the hills of snow. Never was loved one half so dear, Never was voice so sweet; Give me the hum of the fifty Gnome, The feeling of icy feet. I had thought of going into twenty verses with the above, just to relieve the heat-pressure; but I feel a bit better now, so will let you off and promise not to offend again for quite a long time. The Art of Being Miserable. I have had one or two letters recently (kindly meant, I am sure) from some who think I am on the down-grade because I refuse to be miserable, and because I go motoring on Sunday instead of going to church. There is a great art in being miserable. I know, because I have made a study of the subject during many years, and many people have come under my scrutiny during that time. It might be thought that, to be miserable, all one has to do is to walk about with a long face, and refuse absolutely to smile under any circum stances whatsoever. That, my friends, is only the out ward and visible sign that the person afflicted belongs to the order, and is no criterion as to the qualifications of the wearer as a killjoy. Your real " misery " carries a " presence " with it, a sort of halo, like a fungi-stricken fly on the window pane; but, whereas the fly affects only its immediate surroundings, the other puts out tentacles whose business it is to seize on to anyone who appears to be filled with the joy of living, and show them the error of their ways. Ruskin once said that education was " not teaching the youth of England the shapes of letters and the tricks of numbers, but the training them into the perfect exercise and kingly continuance of their bodies and souls." I don't know whether he entirely escaped the attentions of 700
Sign up to
Flight Digital Magazine
Flight Print Magazine
Airline Business Magazine
E-newsletters
RSS
Events
