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tide. Their antics amused me, for the side crawling and cross sweeping with the current make them so ludicrously silly. A plane below, sliding crossways in the wind look just like the old crabs, and I could well imagine the claws that were draging them around. It was amusing enough to laugh. It probably relieved the tension to laugh at something.

A "bump" took a little of my wandering attention. The "roiling" of air currents over different plots of earth gives a wing a sudden hit; the whole plane suddenly drops a distance as if there was a "hole" in the air; the tail is knocked up quickly - these are "bumps".  The remedy is to throw the machine into a position opposite to that in which the "bump" throws you, but to keep this up requires hard work and now I can agree with the returned aviator who said to us in Toronto that "one hour in bumpy weather is worth a whole weeks' work in the trenches." It scares you a bit - as if some