I saw an interesting stunt. There are wells here and all water has to be carried to the houses. A little girl—a really little girl—put two buckets of H2O on a stick and then separated the buckets by a barrel hoop and stepped inside. Thus she could carry the two without having them hit her legs. The evening of the 15th day. We have had a musical evening again tonight. The old harp was bro’t forth and Bill and Andy played. It is very funny to see two able-bodied men picking out “Jingle Bells.” Two are required for the feat and I am terribly amused. Bill has a good deal of music in him and knows some Spanish stuff of which I am very fond. Today has been happier as a whole. We all appeared this morning vowing to change clothes and clean up. I bought a 90c green checked Mother Hubbard, the best in stock and a pair of tan hose. With borrowed shoes, skirt and slip, I pitched in and washed everything else. Bill borrowed trousers, and had his suit cleaned and pressed and his shirts laundered. He purchased a new tie as the one he had was fast “going to the devil” and some Trepassey socks. Slim also is spic and span. All we need are baths, manicures and haircuts—none of which are obtainable here. * * * * In those last days at Trepassey, one bit of news that did filter in from the outside world cheered us mightily. That was word of the successful flight of the Southern Cross from San Francisco across the Pacific. She was a tri-motor Fokker, engined with Wright Whirlwind motors, practically identical with the Friendship except that she was not equipped with pontoons. They made it; so could we. Their accomplishment was a challenge. CHAPTER VIII ACROSS _Log Book:_ SUNDAY—At the present time we have been out an hour. Land has gone in the haze and we are almost into the fog bank which hangs always off the coast of Newfoundland. We have 1500 ft. and both boys are in the cockpit. Me, I am holding down a pile of flying suits, as we left every ounce we could spare at Trepassey and the three cushions were among the things discarded. We made three tries before we got off and went up from a heavy sea with one motor so wet it has just come in full recently. We had to throw out all our canned gas. We have only 700 gals, with us now. * * * * That was the first entry in the log book following the actual take-off from Trepassey. We left the harbor about 11:15 in the morning, having waited until then for final weather reports. The villagers had seen us “start” so often they had lost faith, so there were only a few on shore to see the Friendship take the air. I had left a telegram to be sent half an hour after we had gone. “Violet. Cheerio. “A. E.” That was the message. The code word “Violet” meant “We are just hopping off.” That was our official good-bye to America. * * * *