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Rh Not having an airport handy, she came down in a farmyard. As she crawled stiffly from the seat, someone in the crowd which quickly gathered asked her if she had had any food since morning. She shook her head.

“I have to fix the plane before I can think about that,” she said.

She thereupon busied herself tying her craft se­curely to a tree lest the wind injure it. When she was satisfied to leave, hospitable citizens took her to town where she dined on scrambled eggs, and thawed out.

The original plan had been to make her first stop at Binghamton. Fuel was ordered there and Cur­tiss mechanics from Hammondsport were waiting to service the plane. Consequently Miss Law took aboard only enough gasoline for the intervening distance and then hopped off. Arrived at Bing­hamton, she at first insisted on trying to push through that night. But in the face of darkness and none too promising weather, she reluctantly consented to stay where she was until the next morning.

Today it is simple to fly this short distance to New York. A sidelight on the difficulties encountered then, is Miss Law’s experience in crossing New York City. About the time she reached the Harlem canal her motor began to sputter from lack of gas. Apparently, not wishing to carry any more weight than she had to, she had come from Bing­hamton with barely enough to reach her goal. The