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A continental breakfast is served aboard the plane as we sight Horta where we are going to land in about an hour.

And land we did, and just as at Port Washington we were feted and entertained by a delegation of the town's people, who threw the town open to us. It seemed that every cash register in the town was locked up and our money had no commercial value. Whatever we looked at was ours for the asking, but being a modest group of people we accepted only flowers and refreshments. Most of the people here speak German, French, or English, besides the native language, which or course, is Portugese. We will return here next Monday and already practically every person is engaged for a trip here or there. This morning they took us all around the island, into their homes, into their club, and in fact, they gave us the key to the city and the island. In fact, we were entertained so royally that we got back to the plane about a half an hour late, and it wasn't very long before we were sculling the water. We went off the water just about as gracefully as we did at Port Washington. It is kind of hard to realize; unless you are looking at the water; that you are leaving it because you feel the water swishing on the hull, and the next moment you realize you are in the air.

I think that even the most discriminating air traveler would describe the weather this morning as near perfect as it would be possible to expect. The plane hasn't shifted an inch and we seem to be moving along at our usual rate, and at an altitude of about 5,000 ft. above the sea. One can see the ocean practically the entire trip, except for the occasional cloud banks. Right now we are having an undercast; the sun is shining on it; and as one looks on it I think that even Admiral Byrd would feel lonesome for the Antartic. Gorgeous crevasses, valleys, glaciers, they are all there, you don't have to use much imagination, you can see it, it is right before your eyes. In just a little while we are going to glide down into Lisbon, where we will spend the night. This is Russell Sabor of Minneapolis, Minn., who feels that he has been indeed fortunate to be a passenger on this first transatlantic passenger flight over the broad Atlantic. I feel deeply grateful to Pan American and its officials for the fine trip which they have given us.

From a France that is warm and sunny with a brisk breeze that is the result of a cool wind from the Swiss Alps meeting the warm air of the low lands, we took to the air at Marseilles at 9:15 this morning. A somewhat choppy sea enabled us to get off the water in 26 seconds. We are not heading for Lisbon, following the winding Rhine River, to the British Coast. To our left, the perfectly light blue waters of the Mediterranean reflect the bright sun of the morning, while on our land side occasional deep red rectangular pools of water and salt dehydrating plants stand out in contrast to the green farm lands surrounding them. A bit further on we see the rolling terrain along the Spanish border, covered with several years of green foliage. While in the near distance the snow capped peaks of the Pyrenees rise above the clouds that surround them. The altitude is now about 8,000 ft. above sea level, which brings us about 5,000 ft. above the rolling hills. This morning the cloud formation is the type one usually sees in