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 arrived early on the field. There was no crowd, but several planes stood ready to go.

A pilot came forward and shook hands.

"A good day to go up," he said, pleasantly.

My father raised an inexperienced eye to the sky and agreed. Agreeing verbally is as far as he went, or has ever gone, for he has not yet found a day good enough for a first flight.

The pilot nodded to another flyer. "He'll go up with us."

"Why?" I asked.

The pair exchanged grins. Then I understood. I was a girl—a "nervous lady." I might jump out. There had to be somebody on hand to grab my ankle as I went over. It was no use to explain I had seen aeroplanes before and wasn't excitable. I was not to be permitted to go alone in the front cockpit.

The familiar "contact" was spoken and the motor came to life. I suppose there must be emotion with all new experiences, but I can't re-