(_One Thousand Miles Out._) The Woman: Are we on the right route now? Navigator: I’m pretty certain, but I wouldn’t swear to it. The Woman: I’ll bet we’re miles off going ahead blindly if we’re not certain! Pilot: We may be a little off the course. The Woman: I’ll bet we’re miles off it. I could have told you 600 miles back we weren’t going the right way. Can’t you straighten things out by looking at the map? [Illustration: description: Photo of Earhart looking out window of a locomotive caption: FROM PITTSBURGH TO ALTOONA ] [Illustration: description: Photo full shot Earhart and Putman standing against block wall caption: BEFORE THE FLIGHT IN BOSTON—A. E. AND G. P. P. ] [Illustration: FROM PITTSBURG TO ALTOONA] [Illustration: BEFORE THE FLIGHT IN BOSTON—A. E. AND G. P. P.] Navigator: The map won’t do us any good just now. The Woman: What’s a map for, then? I’ll bet if I had a map I could tell where I was. * * * (_Twelve Hundred Miles Out._) The Woman: Why do we have to keep flying in this awful fog? It’s perfectly terrible! Pilot: There’s no way of avoiding it. The Woman: That’s a perfectly silly thing to say. When you sail right into a fog and stay in it for hours I should think you’d admit you’d made a mistake and not drive calmly on, pretending it was necessary. Pilot: We’ve flown way up in the air to get out of it and we’ve flown close to the ocean to escape it, but it’s no use. The Woman: I’ll bet if you’d turn a sharp right you’d get out of it in no time. I told you to take a sharp right five hours ago. Pilot: We can’t take any sharp right turns and reach Europe, my dear. The Woman: How do you know without trying? * * * (_Fifteen Hundred Miles Out._) The Woman: Well, I just know we’re lost and it’s all your fault. Navigator: Please have a heart. Everything’ll come out okay if you have patience. The Woman: I’ve had patience for hours, and for all I know may be right back where I started. If you don’t know exactly where you are why don’t you STOP AND ASK SOMEBODY? * * * (Over South Wales.) The Woman: Look! It’s land! What place is it? Pilot: The British Isles. The Woman: Isn’t it just splendid? Here we are across the Atlantic in no time just as we had planned. And you boys were so NERVOUS AND UNCERTAIN ABOUT IT ALL THE WAY OVER! H. I. Phillips added that to the gaiety of aviation, in the Sun Dial of the “New York Sun.” By the way, at the N. A. A. luncheon at the Boston reception I was introduced as the most famous b. s. d. in the world. One of the largest organizations connected with the Friendship flight was the I-knew-all-about-it-beforehand-club. Most of them contrived to get into the papers pretty promptly. Some charter members recorded that they turned down tempting offers to pilot the ship, actuated by an exuberant loyalty to Uncle Sam.