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36
Waco

fellow working on the motor is the pilot. The mechanic does look nice in George's helmet, doesn't he? That old Renault throws the oil, worse than a Standard, and the smoke coming out of the "stack" looks like an ocean liner getting up steam. 

Hot dawg! (And I was brought up never to use slang.) Here we get in. 

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Around Calumet Lake we go. It looks like a mud puddle. We have climbed to 6000 ft. There are the smoke stacks of Gary, Indiana. The sand dunes. They look like a mountain ridge from here. The skyline and water merge in an optical illusion. Buddie is relaxing a little now. 

George pilots from the open cockpit, behind the cabin. He has just folded his Rand-Mc Nally into a small quare [[square]]. Bryan, Ohio is our fist stop. George has never used a compass and can come into a town, nose plumb to the center. Mr. Dickenson has an altimeter with him. 

Just thought of "Innocents Abroad", and like Huck Finn find that Indiana is the same color as Illinois.

There are heavy black clouds to our right. Whee! Rain! And how!! Poor George, getting all wet. He just winked at me through the little window. He has castor oil freckles all over his face. The ship feels like a ship...on a heavy sea. Guess I shouldn't have eaten that orange "C.D." gave me. The chimney is sending out clouds of smoke. Why did I eat that orange! 

The left wing goes up and down an awful lot...and I don't feel so good. (Go ahead and laugh!!) Wish I had put some of George's handkerchiefs in my bag. Mine looks so little, I'll have to put my head out of the window, and we are so high up!