The Aeroplane Speaks. Fifth Edition

As the Pilot approaches the Aeroplane the Rigger springs to attention and reports, "All correct, sir," but the Fitter does not this morning report the condition of the Engine, for well he knows that this pilot always personally looks after the preliminary engine test. The latter, in leathern kit, warm flying boots and goggled, climbs into his seat, and now, even more than before, has the Aeroplane an almost living appearance, as if straining to be off and away. First he moves the Controls to see that everything is clear, for sometimes when the Aeroplane is on the ground the control lever or "joy-stick" is lashed fast to prevent the wind from blowing the controlling surfaces about and possibly damaging them. The air of this early dawn is distinctly chilly, and the A.M.'s are beginning to stamp their cold feet upon the dewy grass, but very careful and circumspect is the Pilot, as he mutters to himself, "Don't worry and flurry, or you'll die in a hurry." At last he fumbles for his safety belt, but with a start remembers the Pitot Air Speed Indicator, and, adjusting it to zero, smiles as he hears the Pitot-head's gruff voice, "Well, I should think so, twenty miles an hour I was registering. That's likely to cause a green pilot to stall the Aeroplane. Pancake, they call it." And the Pilot, who is an old hand and has learned a lot of things in the air that mere earth-dwellers know nothing about, distinctly heard the Pitot Tube, whose mouth is open to the air to receive its pressure, stammer, "Oh Lor! I've got an earwig already--hope to goodness the Rigger blows me out when I come down--and this morning air simply fills me with moisture; I'll never keep the Liquid steady in the Gauge. I'm not sure of my rubber connections either."