tended to be busy attending to dials and valves
inside the car. While trying to screw my courage up to the point of
making a verbless explanation of my difficulty, some one pushed
through the crowd, and to my great relief began speaking to me. It was
Monsieur the Mayor. As best I could, I explained that I had lost my
way and had found it necessary to come down for the purpose of making
inquiries. I knew that it was awful French, but hoped that it would be
intelligible, in part at least. However, the Mayor understood not a
word, and I knew by the curious expression in his eyes that he must be
wondering from what weird province I hailed. After a moment's thought
he said, "Vous etes Anglais, monsieur?" with a smile of very real
pleasure. I said, "Non, monsieur, Americain."

That magic word! What potency it has in France, the more so at that
time, perhaps, for America had placed herself definitely upon the side
of the Allies only a short time before. I enjoyed that moment. I might
have had the village for the asking. I willingly accepted the role of
ambassador of the American people. Had it not been for the language
barrier, I think I would have made a speech, for I felt the generous
spirit of Uncle Sam prompting me to give those fathers and mothers,
whose husbands and sons were at the front, the promise of our
unqualified support. I wanted to tell them that we were with them now,
not only in sympathy, but with all our resources in men and guns and
ships and aircraft. I wanted to convince them of our new understanding
of the significance of the war. Alas! this was impossible. Instead I
gave each one of an army of small boys the privilege of sitting in the
pilot's seat, and showed them how to manage the controls.

The astonishing thing to me was, that while this village was not
twenty kilometres off the much-frequented air route between C---- and
R----, mine was the first aeroplane which most of them had seen.
During long months at various aviation schools pilots grow accustomed
to thinking that aircraft are as familiar a sight to others as to
them. But here was a village, not far distant from several aviation
schools, where an aviator was looked upon with wonder. To have an
American aviator drop down upon them was an event even in the history
of that ancient village. To have been that aviator,--well, it was an
unforgettable experience, coming as it did so opportunely with
America's entry into the war. I shall always have i