es.

Another minute and he can see this little town, a fairy place it
appears, nestling down between the hills and its red roofs and
picturesque shape, a glowing and lovely contrast with the dark green
of the surrounding moors.

So extraordinarily clean and tidy it looks from such a height, and laid
out in such orderly fashion with perfectly defined squares, parks,
avenues, and public buildings, it indeed appears hardly real, but rather
as if it has this very day materialized from some delightful children's
book!

Every city and town you must know has its distinct individuality to the
Pilot's eye. Some are not fairy places at all, but great dark ugly blots
upon the fair countryside, and with tall shafts belching forth murky
columns of smoke to defile clean space. Others, melancholy-looking
masses of grey, slate-roofed houses, are always sad and dispirited;
never welcoming the glad sunshine, but ever calling for leaden skies and
a weeping Heaven. Others again, little coquettes with village green,
white palings everywhere, bright gravel roads, and an irrepressible air
of brightness and gaiety.

Then there are the rivers, silvery streaks peacefully winding far, far
away to the distant horizon; they and the lakes the finest landmarks the
Pilot can have. And the forests. How can I describe them? The trees
cannot be seen separately, but merge altogether into enormous irregular
dark green masses sprawling over the country, and sometimes with great
ungainly arms half encircling some town or village; and the wind passing
over the foliage at times gives the forest an almost living appearance,
as of some great dragon of olden times rousing itself from slumber to
devour the peaceful villages its arms encircle.

And the Pilot and Observer fly on and on, seeing these things and many
others which baffle my poor skill to describe--things, dear Reader, that
you shall see, and poets sing of, and great artists paint in the days to
come when the Designer has captured Efficiency. Then, and the time is
near, shall you see this beautiful world as you have never seen it
before, the garden it is, the peace it breathes, and the wonder of it.

The Pilot, flying on, is now anxiously looking for the railway line
which midway on his journey should point the course. Ah! There it
is at last, but suddenly (and the map at fault) it plunges into the
earth! Well the writer remembers when that happened to him on a long
'cross-country flight in the e