se-down, turning round and round
as it fell, like a scrap of paper. It was the _vrille_, the prettiest
piece of aerial acrobatics that one could wish to see. It was a
wonderful, an incredible sight. Only seven years ago Bleriot crossed
the English Channel, and a year earlier the world was astonished at
the exploits of the Wright brothers, who were making flights,
straight-line flights, of from fifteen to twenty minutes' duration!

Some one was counting the turns of the _vrille_. Six, seven, eight;
then the airman came out of it on an even keel, and, nosing down to
gather speed, looped twice in quick succession. Afterward he did the
_retournement_, turning completely over in the air and going back in
the opposite direction; then spiraled down and passed over our heads
at about fifty metres, landing at the opposite side of the field so
beautifully that it was impossible to know when the machine touched
the ground. The airman taxied back to the hangars and stopped just in
front of us, while we gathered round to hear the latest news from the
front.

For he had left the front, this birdman, only an hour before! I was
incredulous at first, for I still thought of distances in the old way.
But I was soon convinced. Mounted on the hood was the competent-looking
Vickers machine gun, with a long belt of cartridges in place, and on
the side of the _fuselage_ were painted the insignia of an escadrille.

The pilot was recognized as soon as he removed his helmet and goggles.
He had been a _moniteur_ at the school in former days, and was well
known to some of the older Americans. He greeted us all very
cordially, in excellent English, and told us how, on the strength of a
hard morning's work over the lines, he had asked his captain for an
afternoon off that he might visit his old friends at B----.

As soon as he had climbed down, those of us who had never before seen
this latest type of French _avion de chasse_, crowded round, examining
and admiring with feelings of awe and reverence. It was a marvelous
piece of aero-craftsmanship, the result of more than two years of
accumulating experience in military aviation. It was hard to think of
it as an inanimate thing, once having seen it in the air. It seemed
living, intelligent, almost human. I could readily understand how it
is that airmen become attached to their machines and speak of their
fine points, their little peculiarities of individuality, with a kind
of loving interest, as on