Now, as our Organization of Youth is rapidly growing up, a young crowd, too young to join it at first, is coming up; imbibing its "why-not-do-it-now?" spirit. So, as Gadsby stood in front of that big Municipal Auditorium (which that group, you know, had had built), Marian Hopkins, a small girl, in passing by, saw him, and said:—
"I think Branton Hills ought to buy a balloon."
"Balloon? Balloon? What would this city do with a balloon? Put a string on it so you could run around with it?"
"No; not that kind of a balloon, but that big, zooming kind that sails way up high, with a man in it."
"Oh! Ha, ha! You think an air-craft is a balloon! But what would—Aha! An airport?"
"Uh-huh; but I didn't know how to say it."
"By cracky!" said His Honor. "I thought this town was about through improving. But an airport would add a bit to it; now wouldn't it?"
Marian had a most profound opinion that it would; (if profound opinions grow in such small kids!) so both took a walk to City Hall to hunt up a Councilman or two. Finding four in a Council room, Gadsby said:—
"Youth, or, I should say, childhood, has just shown that Branton Hills is shy on a most important acquisition," and Old Bill Simpkins just had to blurt out:—
"And, naturally, it calls for cash! CASH! CASH! CASH!! What will this town amount to if it blows in dollars so fast?"