more meritorious than the subject sung. From the direct-by-mail offering, with which friendly souls seem wont to deluge those whose names appear in print, I garner the following excerpts:
The men were anxious, Amelia was too,
Still they never lost hope, just flew and flew.
It took great courage, for a flight like that,
And to the girl Amelia, we take off our hat,
Still they never lost hope, just flew and flew.
It took great courage, for a flight like that,
And to the girl Amelia, we take off our hat,
She's my Amelia, the darling of the air,
She sailed for Europe without a thought or a care,
Just to let the world know that a girl could bring
To the U. S. A. fame and most every other thing.
She sailed for Europe without a thought or a care,
Just to let the world know that a girl could bring
To the U. S. A. fame and most every other thing.
Two experiences which were privileges, too, of the busy weeks, stand out oddly in my memory.
Shamelessly I confess my admiration for motorcycle policemen. Though they have spoken harshly to me on occasion they are so good to look at, I've quite forgiven―most of them. Gallant figures cycle cops, weaving through traffic, provoking drivers to follow suit—and get a ticket.
In the autocratic days of our post-flight glory
288
