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[Page 3]
We sweep along over the rich highly cultivated lands of South England and a crash in suddenly a ploughed field the glimpse of a plane come to grief in a ploughed field puts an end to calls forth explanations technical descriptions & explanations from the the flying man and to my intense relief the disturbing subject of the women we leave behind is dropped. The Bus Conductor, as the flying man must now be called, produces with a cunning smile a bottle of Champagne panikins appear, we clink, I pass such an appreciative opinion on the Vintage as stamps me as no mean connousieur, I am Christened Dad,
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