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THE BOSTON JOURNAL--TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1911.
[[double line across]]
"ME FIRST, OVIE!"--WIFE'S PLEA AMID CHAOTIC WELCOME
[[boxed]] WHERE TWO AIR RACERS CAME TO GRIEF ON THE MYSTIC MARSHES IN MEDFORD [[/boxed]]
[[image: photo of Edwardian crowd surrounding biplane]]
[[caption]]
Atwood's biplane center of interested crowd on site of old Mystic Trotting Park[[/caption]]
[[image: photo of policeman in tall rounded hat; young man in 3/4 profile, smoking cigar with flat cap, light colored suit; third man with flat cap, [?raincoat?] ]]
[[caption]]Aviator Atwood and his father, talking with Policeman Jack Welsh of Medford.[[/caption]]
[[image: photo of crowd, two or three visible open-topped automobiles, men and women standing in the back seat looking over presumably at field; a crowd near them.]]
[[caption]]Part of terrific jam on old Medford turnpike watching Stone and his Queen monoplane.[[/caption]]
[[image: indistinct image of people, a plane, in grass]]
[[caption]]Stone's monoplane in the tall marsh grass near Mystic river, Medford, opposite ruins of recently burned Combination Park grandstand.[[/caption]]

[[column 1]]
AIR VICTORS IDOLS 
OF FRANTIC CROWD
_________
(Continued From First Page.)
aviation that Boston and New England have ever known.
The epoch-making aviator was Lieut. T. D. Milling of the United States Army.
He had finished a wonderful cross-country race for biplanes, touching four cities in three of New England's States.

Equally sensational had been the finishing of a race for monoplanes over the same course a short time before by Earle L. Ovington, who, once astray above the clouds, a mile and one-half from the ground, courageously fought his way through the trackless space of the turbulent heavens until he alighted on the field in his Bleriot, victorious over the elements.

Milling's time in the air from the moment he left the same field had been 5h. 22m. 37s. Ovington's had been 3h. 6m. 22 1-5s. The course was from the aviation field at Atlantic to Nashua, N. H., to Worcester, to Providence, and back to the field, 160 miles.

Four aviators had opened the great race at 11 o'clock in the morning, but only two were to finish came the word to the aviation field early in the day, and through the long hours the 20,000 people in the aerodrome waited--waited that they might welcome on earth again the men they had seen start through the trackless, sunlit skies.

SIGH IN SYMPATHY, SHOUT FOR JOY.
Keyed with excitement, they watched the southwestern horizon, [[?]]ng at times of the whereabouts of the men of the air.

They had given a sigh of commiseration on learning that Harry N. Atwood was down on the site of the old Mystic race track in Medford and that Arthur B. Stone was forced to alight half a mile away in a [[/column1]]

[[column 2]]
herself and him still the subject of the multitude's acclaim.
At last Ovington was borne from the field by the correspondents and coralled by them. Nor was he allowed to go until he had told all about his wonderful trip--a trip, the greater part of which was made flying at an altitude of a mile and one one-half, away above the crowds and in a temperature that was freezing.

So cold was he as he talked that he shivered and his chattering teeth brought to his side a physician, who offered a flask of liquor that the aviator might be warmed.

A second later a woman jumped down from an automobile and passed him a blanket which he wound about himself until he appeared as an Indian in the gathering darkness.

An admiring, worshipful army of newspaper men and women stood about him--some holding the life preserver of which he had divested himself, others his coat--eager not to lose a word of what he said.

Will Enter Transcontinental.
Then it was he announced his intention of participating in the great transcontinental flight from the Pacific to the Atlantic, and he was still talking when a shout went up from the crowd announcing the approach of Lieut. Milling.

It was then dark and had been dark for some time. Twilight had given way to full evening. The moon had risen [[/column 2]]column 3, different article]]
[[boxed information]]
RESULTS FOR DAY
AND MONEY WON
______
QUICK START.
[[table of 3 columns]]
|Aviator. | Time. Seconds. | Prize.|
|Sopwith | 9.45 | $150|
|Beatty | 10 | 50|
|Ely | 11 1-5 | --|
Sopwith and Beatty tied on first attempt and raced over.

BOMB DROPPING
|Aviator. | Average Ft. | Prize.|
|Sopwith | 15.4 | $150|
|Beatty | 16.2 | 50|
|Ely | 62.4 | --

ACCURACY IN LANDING.
|Aviator.| Distance Ft.| Prize.|
|Sopwith | 31 | $150|
|Beatty | 31.8 | 50|

FIGURE [[8?]] FOR SPEED.
|Aviator | m.s. | Prize.|
|Grahame-White | 17.19 | $300|
|Sopwith | 22.59 | 150|
|Beatty | 23.46 | 50|
|*Ely | 16.50 3-5 | --|
*Disqualified [[?]] not rounding course at finish.

PASSENGER CARRYING, 12 LAPS.
|Aviator | m.s. | Prize.|
|Grahame-White|17.27 4-5 |$300|
|Sopwith | 19.25 1-5 | 150|
|Beatty | 29.50 1-5 | 300| [[/boxed information]]
[[/column 3]]

[[column 4]]
more daring than the rest among the spectators cried out it was he. And, sure enough, the little speck began to assume larger proportions. But it still remained a sort of indistinct blur. But nearer and nearer it came across the dark background of the heavens.

The field was quiet. No one thought of cheering. With a feeling almost like awe the people waited. Of a sudden a shaft of the moon's yellow lights flashed across the whirring propeller of the biplane and the people knew it was Milling who approached.

Another shaft of light made its target the seemingly wondrous tiny biplane, and this time its outline could be discerned. A cry went up and a hundred or more torches burning red fire were caught up and waved in a frenzy of joy.

Then, slowly and slowly, the blur against the heavens' background of blackness began to evolve into the semblance of an aeroplane. Like apparitions of the night the correspondents and officials on the field ran back and forth waving their little beacons of red fire to guide the sky skipper into port.

It seemed for the nonce as though he could not see the haven of welcome which stood ready to receive him. Then of a sudden the machine started earth-ward.

Pandemonium Rules Multitude.
The cloud which had evolved into a blur and then been transfigured into an aeroplane was over the aerodrome. Again pandemonium ruled the multitude. [[column 4]]

[[column 5]] 
been, his protests staying not the slightest the enthusiasm of those who clustered about the motionless air-steed. Almost roughly he was cast aloft upon the shoulders of Ovington, Ely, Mayor Fitzgerald and some newspaper men and borne across to the grandstand.

Procession in the Darkness.
A queer procession it seemed in the darkness hanging over the field, relieved only by the fire and the moon. Like a great black patch, one form above it--the form of Milling on the shoulders of his fellow-men--with its circumference outlined by the torch bearers, it moved onward toward the committee house by the grandstand. 

Cheer after cheer marked its progress across the floor of the aerodrome. Hats were thrown in the air and ungoverned enthusiasm held sway.

Again Mayor Fitzgerald led the cheering, and for minutes it was kept up without cessation.

The crowd in the stands had been able to see Ovington when he alighted and see him clearly, but when Milling came down they could not pierce the veil of the night; so soon it was that cries went up of:
 "Let us see Milling! Show him to us!" 

Those who bore him on their shoulders put him down on the ground. The torch bearers were called upon to line up the rear and hold their glowing brands on high. Then, with Milling in the center of a great half circle, the procession moved on toward the grandstand. Some of the torch bearers grouped themselves about him and for several minutes he stood there, that the crowd might gaze upon their idol.

Satisfied with looking upon him in silence for a moment, the cheering was started again, and the noise still rang out uproariously as Milling was rushed into a corner by the correspondents, that his story might be secured as had been Ovington's.

Unlike the monoplane flyer, Milling had flown over the entire route without reaching an altitude of more than 3000 feet. He told of losing his way soon after leaving the field and of following the wrong railroad track until he discovered he was on his way back to Boston. Then he explained how he had alighted at Concord to inquire his way to Nashua, a request that started the inhabitants of that little town, where
[[/column 5]

[[column 6]]
tell, far more startling than the seemingly simple story of Milling.

Once as he listened to Milling's story, he had gasped with astonishment when he learned the army officer flew without a compass, and he told of one he carried in his hand--a little spirit compass which had been loaned him just as he was to start.

Ovington told of the great crowd that gathered to meet the fliers at Nashua. He said that upon starting he had attempted to follow the railroads and rivers, but had given it up, feeling he had rather depend upon his compass. Milling's flight had been made with earth marks for guides, and he was of different opinion than Ovington.

Thought Balloon a Boat.
"Worcester looked just like a hole in the mountains as I approached it," said 
(Continued on Page 5--Column 2)
[[===========================]]

Stomach Distress and Dyspepsia Go
As there is often some one in your family who suffers an attack of Indigestion or some form of Stomach trouble, why don't you keep some Diapepsin in the house handy?

This harmless blessing will digest anything you can eat without the slightest discomfort, and overcome a sour, gassy Stomach five minutes later.

Tell your pharmacist to let you read the formula, plainly printed on these 50-cent cases of Pape's Diapepsin, then you will readily see why it makes Indigestion, Sour Stomach, Heartburn and other distress go in five minutes, and relieves at once such miseries as Belching of Gas, Eructations of sour, undigested food, Nausea, Headaches, Dizziness, Constipation and other Stomach disorders.

Some folks have tried so long to find relief from Indigestion and Dyspepsia or an out-of-order stomach with the common, every-day cures advertised that they have about made up their minds that they have something else wrong, or believe theirs is a care of Nervousness, Gastritis, Catarrh of the Stomach or Cancer.

This, no doubt, is a serious mistake. Your real trouble is, what you eat does not digest. Instead, it ferments and
[[/column six]]

Transcription Notes:
mandc: the apparent discontinuity of the column stories is due to the fact that this page is the top third of the newspaper sheet. The rest of the sheet is on the next two pages, and show the lower part of the columns.