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The great day when wilbur wriqht was up among the birds

And then one day the great doors of the wooden house swung open, and out came Wilbur Wright, out came Orville Weight, and out came a great, ungainly thing which is very familiar now, but was something to laugh at then—a huge thing of wood and canvas, full of wires, and bars, and levers, running along on wheels; and the peasants laughed more than ever. This was the thing they had waited weeks to see, and as, at last, the machine was run into the middle of the held the peasants jeered more than ever.

But Wilbur Wright cared nothing at all. He sat down in his seat and got ready.

One ! he shouted.

One ! jeered back the crowd.

Two 1 he shouted.

Two-! jeered back the crowd.

Three! he shouted, and the crowd jeered no more, for Wilbur Wright was flying among the birds.

He came down from the skies never, never to be jeered at again, for these people who had thought him a quack these people belonging to the most emotional race in the world, fell on his neck and kissed him. They had seen the first man fly.

Not many weeks after that the Editor of this book left his desk and went out with Lord Northcliffe to see Wilbur Wright fly at the foot of the Pyrenees, and this is what he wrote home that night:„ Out of this wooden shed—so rough a place for the beginning of the flight of man—came Wilbur Wright.

There was a sound of whirring wheels; a man was oiling the propellers; Wilbur Wright was moving.