Harry’s delight in playing tricks never left him. Only a short while before he died we were spending a week-end with my parents. After we had all retired for the night I overheard a council of war between my brother and Harry. They crept stealthily downstairs. When, after about an hour, Harry arrived upstairs, I could extract no lucid explanation of what he had been doing. However, the next morning the sight of a white door in the dark dining-room when we sat down to breakfast explained his activities of the previous night. He had changed the white door of the drawing-room for the dark one of the dining-room. The cook gave my mother notice to leave immediately after breakfast, as she was not used to “being made a fool of.” There was only one person who saw her being made a fool of, but that person’s tale of cook’s exit through a door she knew so well which had suddenly gone “all gleaming white” was so funny that I am sure her manner of accepting the joke was better appreciated by the perpetrators than by the fools for whom it was intended.


CHAPTER II

THE BRITISH DURATION RECORD

Harry’s Aversion to Publicity—Circumstances of His First Brooklands Associations—The Sopwith-Burgess-Wright Biplane—Harry’s Effort in a Quick-starting Competition—Beating His Employer—Early Attempts for Michelin Laurels—A Real Success—Tuning-up for the Duration Record—Raynham Makes a Race—And Secures an Advantage—Raynham Lands after 7 hours 31½ minutes—And Holds the Record for an Hour or Two—Opportunity Knocks at Harry’s Door—And is Well Received—Harry Lands after 8 hours 23 minutes—To Him the Spoils—His Own Account of the Experience—A Reminiscence of Cody—The Significance of Harry’s Achievement—Other Flights at Brooklands—The Growth of a Pioneer Firm.


CHAPTER II

During the latter half of 1912, with the buoyancy of the enthusiast and no idea of the meteoric way in which his latent abilities would be developed, Harry embarked on the flying career on which his heart was set, at a time when the spirit of quantity production had not descended to meet the necessities of war and the aeronautical fraternity was happy in its smallness.

Even when he had carried out not a few, but many, flights of a nature unprecedented for a beginner, Harry was known only to a very few near associates; and he eschewed publicity not only before, but also after, he was drawn automatically and unavoidably within its fold. Fortunately, Harry had no cause to sever a well-made alliance with Mr. Sopwith, who was quick in recognising the genius of his protégé, as a pilot then, and as an engineer later. Had circumstances been less promising, and if Harry had elected to seek work as a pilot elsewhere, the scanty knowledge of his early experiences that had been disseminated would have stood him in little stead, for in 1912 the experiences of most pilots were generally reported in considerable detail; and here would have been a man with a brilliant record who had deliberately contrived to have as few papers as possible to show for it. A few genuine Press reports are surely of some value to a youngster who, looking for employment, has to make an impression, and particularly if he is not a great talker. But one cannot blame Harry for this seeming inadvertence, for he never required such testimonials.