The Aeroplane Speaks. Fifth Edition

"My eye!" ejaculates the Wind-screen, "talk about a view!" And indeed mere words will always fail to express the wonder of it. Six thousand feet up now, and look! The sun is rising quicker than ever mortal on earth witnessed its ascent. Far below is Mother Earth, wrapt in mists and deep blue shadows, and far above are those light, filmy, ethereal clouds now faintly tinged with pink. And all about great mountains of cloud, lazily floating in space. The sun rises and they take on all colours, blending one with the other, from dazzling white to crimson and deep violet-blue. Lakes and rivers here and there in the enormous expanse of country below refract the level rays of the sun and, like so many immense diamonds, send dazzling shafts of light far upwards. The tops of the hills now laugh to the light of the sun, but the valleys are still mysterious dark blue caverns, crowned with white filmy lace-like streaks of vapour. And withal the increasing sense with altitude of vast, clean, silent solitudes of space. Lives there the man who can adequately describe this Wonder? "Never," says the Pilot, who has seen it many times, but to whom it is ever new and more wonderful. Up, up, up, and still up, unfalteringly speeds the Pilot and his mount. Sweet the drone of the Engine and steady the Thrust as the Propeller exultingly battles with the Drift. And look! What is that bright silver streak all along the horizon? It puzzled the Pilot when first he saw it, but now he knows it for the Sea, full fifty miles away!