Magellans

From Belle Isle Straits over to Pictou, Newfoundland, from Pictou to Boston soared the U. S. globe fliers. Lieutenants Smith and Nelson had been rejoined by their comrade Wade, absent since his wreck at the Faroe Islands. At Boston, all three unbolted their pontoons, fastened on "land legs" in the shape of wheels, hopped off for Mitchel Field, L. I. A triumphal escort fanned out ahead and behind.

Natives of Providence, R. I., craned at them. Over Woonsocket one of the escorts faltered, dropped, crashed, but hurt no one. New London looked up, saw Lieut. Smith's mechanician drop a message to his family. All the Connecticut towns along Long Island Sound beheld the droning machines moving steadily down the sky.

Instead of crossing the Sound at Greenwich or Rye, the squadron pro ceeded into Westchester, was met by many more welcoming planes. Man hattanites rushed into the streets as a veritable air armada swarmed over Greater New York, followed Fifth Avenue and Broadway to the Battery. The homecomers were distinguished in a compact trio at the center of the swarm.

Leaving behind the cacaphony of whistles, horns, bells, shouting crowds, the flight swung east again, over Long Island. At Mitchel Field (Mineola), the heroes coasted down, stepped to earth to the tune of 21 guns. Military etiquette was forgotten in the rush of welcoming officials. Followed speeches, interminable handshaking, gold cigarette cases "from the people of New York," a statuette from Italo-Americans.

Said the fliers: "Thanks"--and so to bed. Next day they were off for Boiling Field, Washington, for further official welcoming.