wheeled out and now stood glistening in the bright autumn sunshine,
which danced on the shining brasswork and threw deep shadows on the
grass beneath.

"The airman swung lightly into his seat; a final word or two with his
commanding officer and he flung over the levers and gave a sharp turn
to the starting handle.

"The powerful engine in front of him woke into life deafeningly and,
waving away the mechanics holding the wings, he pressed the clutch
pedal and moved slowly forward.

"His face is very grim and determined--he throws across another lever
and the low hum of the motor changes into a deep-throated roar.
Gathering speed, he goes faster and faster--now he is in the air--now
a little speck in the sky, heading for the enemy's lines--"

"Oh, no, please," I broke in feebly. "I can't stand any more just now.
You're not seriously thinking of having this published, are you?"

As in a dream I took the manuscript from his fingers and gazed blankly
at it whilst his indignant flow of speech passed harmlessly over my
head.

"But, Harris," I said at length, with infinite compassion in my voice,
"Harris, I love you as a brother, but this really is awful--why--well,
listen here"--

"'As the second German machine came down on them in a steep dive
Lionel gave a hasty glance behind him, where the huge engine raced
madly, and shouted excitedly to his observer.

"'The latter, swinging the machine gun round sharply, took rapid aim
and pressed the trigger--'"

I stopped.

"Well?" demanded the author icily.

"No, it's too frightful," I bleated. "Harris, this _might_ conceivably
be read by a real pilot. Heaven forbid, of course! And he'd simply
hate this scout 'bus with the engine ahead to change into a 'pusher'
two-seater in six paragraphs."

Harris was routed, absolutely demoralised. "They told me to put in
lots of flying talk," he murmured abjectly, "and tons of local colour
to make it lifelike."

"Yes," I said grimly, "but this colour's too local for words."

"Of course, if you think you could do it better yourself," Harris
observed with heavy sarcasm, "well, then--"

"Certainly," I agreed heartily. "I don't mind showing _you_, Harris,
seeing you're a pal of mine. Just pass the ink and let your uncle get
to work."

Behold my effort!--

"'Orderly, what about tea?'

"'Very nearly ready, Sir.'

"'Right. Then I think a small piece of toast is indicated;' and he
proceeded to hack the loaf to pieces with great