shop. They can't help it, and even golf is a poor
second to flight talk. Says the Pilot, who must have his grievance,
"Just observe where I managed to stop the machine. Not twenty feet from
this hedge! A little more and we should have been through it and into
Kingdom Come! I stalled as well as one could, but the tail touched
the ground and so I could not give the Aeroplane any larger angle of
incidence. Could I have given it a larger angle, then the planes would
have become a much more effective air-brake, and we should have come to
rest in a much shorter distance. It's all the fault of the tail. There's
hardly a type of Aeroplane in existence in which the tail could not be
raised several feet, and that would make all the difference. High tails
mean a large angle of incidence when the machine touches ground and,
with enough angle, I'll guarantee to safely land the fastest machine in
a five-acre field. You can, I am sure, imagine what a difference that
would make where forced landings are concerned!" Then rapidly sketching
in his notebook, he shows the Observer the following illustration:

"That's very pretty," said the Observer, "but how about Mechanical
Difficulties, and Efficiency in respect of Flight? And, anyway, why
hasn't such an obvious thing been done already?"

"As regards the first part of your question I assure you that there's
nothing in it, and I'll prove it to you as follows----"

"Oh! That's all right, old chap. I'll take your word for it," hurriedly
replies the Observer, whose soul isn't tuned to a technical key.

"As regards the latter part of your inquiry," went on the Pilot, a
little nettled at having such a poor listener, "it's very simple.
Aeroplanes have 'just growed' like Topsy, and they consequently contain
this and many another relic of early day design when Aeroplanes were
more or less thrown together and anything was good enough that could get
off the ground."

"By Jove," interrupts the Observer, "I do believe the fog is lifting.
Hadn't we better get the engine and body covers off, just in case it's
really so?"

"I believe you're right. I am sure those hills over there could not
be seen a few minutes ago, and look--there's sunshine over there. We'd
better hurry up."

Ten minutes' hard work and the covers are off, neatly folded and stowed
aboard; the picketing wires are cast adrift, and the Pilot is once more
in his seat. The Aeroplane has been turned to face the other end of the
field