like, and expended a good deal of energy and flour and sugar in trying to reproduce it.
Needless to say, I never succeeded in manufacturing a passable substitute for the celestial food. That it should be small, white, round muffins, a cross between a popover and angel food cake, I was convinced. Perhaps when I give up aviation. I’ll attempt production again, for I know that if I could perfect it, there would be an overwhelming demand.
Despite the fun of school, joyful interruptions were occasionally vouchsafed when my father had to make a long business trip. He was, most of his life, connected with one railroad or another, and used to pack the family off when he made a trip of any consequence. Seemingly our jaunts to California and other places did not materially hinder school progress. I think possibly I gained as much from travel as from curricula. Certainly it is something to have lived during the period when into private cars one could invite one’s own friends for journeys and meals. Not that we always traveled in private cars, but they were available sometimes. I never bought a railroad ticket until I was sixteen, and even now it doesn’t seem quite right. Perhaps that training has done its share in forcing me into various phases of air transportation.
The family rolled around a good deal during my
