476 



RECREATION 



me over the farm buildings and pas- 

 tures, into the spot chosen as the "an- 

 chor buoy." About two thousand feet 

 from the earth the unexpected happens. 

 The ship has passed from the current it 

 has been riding, into the surface cur- 

 rent or wind, moving to the North or 

 East. It was moving East during the 

 afternoon, but now the clear, green 

 spot is swinging off to the right and I 

 will land on the wooded hillside to the 

 left, a nice soft place for the aeronaut, 

 but an almost impossible place from 

 which to remove the balloon, so over 

 goes ballast, considerable this time, as 

 results' must come quick. The ship 

 slows in its downward movement, but 

 is swept on toward the hillside. An- 

 other turn at the ballast. Up she goes 

 and misses the treetops on the crest of 

 the hill by a hundred feet. Good ! Now 

 the ship, freed from so much ballast, 

 is fast ascending and a corn field is 

 right under, a fine landing place. 



One must work quickly and surely 

 if one is to place the ship where he 

 wishes it, in the corn where there is 

 good anchorage. I quickly pull the 

 valve open and this time hold it open 

 as the earth is not far below. The ship 

 balances for a second, then descends 

 toward the sheltered cornfield. With 

 my eyes on the low hanging loop of the 

 anchor rope, I let go the anchor just 

 as the loop touches and its weight helps 



to relieve and cushion the fall. The 

 car bumps into the corn and the ship, 

 thus relieved of almost all its burden, 

 bounds up some sixty or seventy feet 

 and is pulled down again with its over 

 load. This time the anchor, now drag- 

 going out behind catches in the corn 

 hills and holds all fast so that I can 

 "kill" my ship by another good pull at 

 the valve line. 



A "hello" or two brings the whole 

 neighborhood to my assistance, for they 

 "saw the thing comin' down. Thought 

 it landed in Harvey's woods." Willing 

 hands carry me and my still buoyant 

 ship out of the corn to a grassy spot 

 nearby and along the wood-lot road, 

 where I "dump" and fold the balloon 

 and pack it into the basket to await 

 the return of the farmer with a wagon 

 and team to take me to the nearby 

 station. 



After answering a good many ques- 

 tions and disposing of a good, whole- 

 some supper at the farm house, captain 

 and crew of the fairy ship, now shorn 

 of its mysterious life, are driven to the 

 station to ride back to a home in an 

 earthly, noisy and dirty train. 



But my balloon is there, sleeping in 

 its basket and with it I may at any time 

 again visit fairy land, a fairy land -un- 

 dreamed of by the poor, wingless ants 

 who never soar in anything more am- 

 bitious than an elevator. 



.,< 



