Omitting other preliminaries for the present, let us return to the smooth, sloping meadow where under the eye of the German expert, the young aviator was receiving his first instruction in the fascinating diversion.
“I know that you did not let an action of mine elude you,” said the Professor, “and you feel that you understand pretty much all.”
Standing by the biplane, the smiling Harvey nodded his head.
“I have a dim suspicion in that direction.”
“You can never make yourself an aviator without self-confidence, but you may have too much of it. In that case you become reckless and bad results are certain to follow. Nor can you learn by simply observing the conduct of another. You have a motto in your country about experience.”
“It is Benjamin Franklin’s,—‘Experience keeps a dear school but fools will learn in no other,’” said Harvey, atremble with eagerness.
“Quite true; well, if you please, you may seat yourself.”
The lad stepped forward and sat down, his feet resting on the cross lever below, while he grasped the upright control lever on his right.
“Suppose you wish to leave the ground and mount into the air?”
“I pull this lever back; the motion turns up the horizontal rudder out there in front and the auxiliary elevating rudder in the rear; when I have gone as high as I wish, I hold the rudder level, and when I wish to descend, I dip it downward.”