The carnival was formally opened the next afternoon, though, as usual with such affairs, not half the exhibits were in place. But addresses were made, the history of aeronautics was rehearsed by several speakers, others made great predictions for the future, and then it was announced by the chairman of the committee in charge that some of the inventors would try out their apparatus.
“One of the first to make an attempt to fly at this carnival will be Professor Nixon,” went on the chairman. “In his machine, which he calls the Firefly, he will endeavor, so he tells me, to make a complete circuit of the grounds. If you will kindly give your attention to the tent over which is flying the yellow flag you will soon see Professor Nixon and his airship.”
The crowd, including the four boys from Cresville, hurried over to Noddy’s tent. Now, if Noddy was at all bashful, or fearful that his machine would not work, he did not show it. The front of the tent was pulled to one side, and the curious Firefly was revealed. Many thus saw it for the first time.
“Professor Nixon asked me to announce that this machine is entirely his own invention,” went on the chairman, “though he was obliged to hire the most of the work done in a machine shop. He will now fly for us.”
“As long as he doesn’t fly toward us it’ll be all right, Professor,” said a tall man in the crowd. “I wouldn’t want that to fall on me. It must weigh several tons.”
There was a laugh at this.
“That’ll never fly,” was another comment.
“That’s a submarine—that ain’t an airship,” jeered a third.
“Let her go, Professor,” called a boy. “Better get a feather bed to fall on, though. When you come down you’ll come down hard.”