knowledge of the theory of flight.

Sometimes the winds would die away and the thick clouds lift, and we
would go joyously to work on a morning of crisp, bright winter
weather. Then we had moments of glorious revenge upon the crows. They
would watch us from afar, holding noisy indignation meetings in a row
of weather-beaten trees at the far side of the field. And when some
inexperienced pilot lost control of his machine and came crashing to
earth, they would take the air in a body, circling over the wreckage,
cawing and jeering with the most evident delight. "The Oriental
Wrecking Company," as the Annamites were called, were on the scene
almost as quickly as our enemies the crows. They were a familiar sight
on every working day, chattering together in their high-pitched
gutturals, as they hauled away the wrecked machines. They appeared to
side with the birds, and must have thought us the most absurd of men,
making wings for ourselves, and always coming to grief when we tried
to use them.

We made progress regardless of all this skepticism. It was necessarily
slow, for beginners at a single-command monoplane school are permitted
to fly only under the most favorable weather conditions. Even then,
old Mother Earth, who is not kindly disposed toward those of her
children who leave her so jauntily, would clutch us back to her bosom,
whenever we gave her the slightest opportunity, with an embrace that
was anything but tender. We were inclined to think rather highly of
our own courage in defying her; and sometimes our vanity was increased
by our _moniteurs_. After an exciting misadventure they often gave
expression to their relief at finding an amateur pilot still whole,
by praising his "presence of mind" in too generous French fashion.

We should not have been so proud, I think, of our own little exploits,
had we remembered those of the pioneers in aviation, so many of whom
lost their lives in experiment with the first crude types of the
heavier-than-air machines. They were pioneers in the fine and splendid
meaning of the word--men to be compared in spirit with the old
fifteenth-century navigators. We were but followers, adventuring, in
comparative safety, along a well-defined trail.

This, at any rate, was Drew's opinion. He would never allow me the
pleasure of indulging in any flights of fancy over these trivial
adventures of ours. He would never let me set them off against "the
heroic background" of Paris. As for Pari