"Whist, can't ye, and listen to the officer!" warned Mulligan.
Like the rest, the two whisperers fell into attitudes of deep attention.
"As you all are aware," began the officer, "it is the purpose of the navy to determine the advisability of equipping every vessel in the fleet with an aeroplane suitable for bomb dropping or scout duty. Naturally one of the most essential features of such a craft would be its ability to fly both to and from the parent ship. In other words, not only must it be able to fly from the ship to the shore, a comparatively simple matter, but it must be able to land back on the deck of the ship from whence it came—a far more hazardous feat."
"Vos is idt, dot 'haz-az-abluss'?" whispered Hans.
"You all follow my meaning?" asked the officer.
A chorus of "Aye, aye, sir," came from the throats of the "Aviation Class."
"Py Chimmy Hill, I follow you all righd, budt I'm a long, long vay behindt, as der terrapin remarked to der rappit," commented Hans in a low undertone which was lost in the hearty roar of the concerted response.
"Very good," resumed the officer. "Now, then, I have here," he referred to the sheet of typewritten paper, "an announcement from the department that one week hence a landing platform will be erected on the after-deck of the Manhattan. She will anchor in the Roads, and those desiring to attempt the feat of landing on her deck may notify me at the earliest opportunity. I may add, that to the successful aviator, will accrue an award of $100, beside certain promotion for efficiency."
"Nodt for vun million billion bundtles of dollars vould I preak my neck," commented Hans to Mulligan.
"By gorry, Dutchy, I don't blame ye. 'Twould be a day's wu-urk fer a burrd to do the thrick," was the response.