"An aeronaut. If you will leave the shelter of this particularly fine tree and look up above, you will see a balloon; attached to the balloon is a car, and attached to the car is myself."
"And do you propose to stay up there indefinitely? It isn't very amusing, is it?"
"Not particularly. If you can suggest a method of escape, I shall be only too happy to descend."
"Climb out of the car, and then down the tree-trunk. Nothing could be simpler."
"Pardon me, but have you ever tried that particular form of gymnastic exercise? Directly I begin to get out of the car, she will topple over, and I wouldn't for the world give you the trouble of collecting my fragments at the bottom."
"Please don't. It would be like making one of those wretched toy-houses out of bricks, and I know I should never fit in the pieces properly. Still, you can't stay up there for ever, can you, now?"
"Not possibly. For one thing, I have not tasted food for twelve hours, and I shall expire if I don't get some presently."
"I might bring you a sandwich, if you have got a piece of string you can let down," said the girl, with the easy badinage of an old friend. It is not every day that one is privileged to encounter a tree'd balloonist, and she felt that the proprieties were not particularly at home in such an al fresco environment.
"Thanks," responded the aerial voice, "but I prefer to reach firm ground, if it can any way be managed. I say, could you get me a ladder?"
"Yes. I'll hunt up the gardener, and tell him to bring one. You think you can get down that way?"