A platform sixteen feet high was erected on the shore of Lake Keuka and a wire cable two hundred and fifty feet long was stretched from the platform to a spile under water out in the lake. The hydroaeroplane was set on this wire cable near the platform on which the men stood to start the propeller. A groove was made along the bottom of the boat in which the cable fitted loosely, to guide it as it slid down, until sufficient headway was obtained to enable the wings of the aeroplane to support the weight of the machine. A trial of this method of launching was entirely successful. The machine started down the cable gathering headway and we all watched it gracefully rise into the air and fly out over the lake. This launching from a wire is the last step in the development of handling the aeroplane and it is hardly possible to foresee all the many important applications which will be made in the future of this type of machine, since a cable can be easily stretched from the bow of any vessel, which can then steam into the wind, easily enabling an aeroplane to be launched in almost any weather, while it can without difficulty land under the lea of the vessel and be hoisted on board again. As the wireless has almost revolutionised ocean navigation by furnishing a means of constant communication between steamers, perhaps the hydroaeroplane will be able to bring passengers back to shore or take them from shore to a ship on the high sea, or enable visits to be made between ships that pass on the ocean. Great, powerful hydroaeroplanes may be able to cross the ocean itself at high speed, and they will no doubt add greatly to the safety of ocean travel, as well as furnish the Navy with an arm of destruction much more far-reaching than its most effective guns or torpedoes. Frank Coffyn in May, 1912, took a belated passenger from the Battery, New York City, out to a steamer as it was steaming out of the lower bay and landed him safely aboard a hint of future possibilities. We had a curious opportunity to prove how the hydroaeroplane can be an arm of preservation as well as destruction, when at the Chicago meet of 1911. Simon, dashing over the lake, dropped in his machine. Hugh Robinson had been putting a hydroaeroplane through its evolutions, to the great interest of the crowd, who evidently thought it a sort of freak machine, but when Simon fell Robinson was after him instantly, and for the first time in the history of the world, a man flew through the air from dry land, alighted on the water beside a man in distress, and before anything else could get there, invited him to fly back to shore with him. As there were boats close at hand, the offer was not needed, but the value of the land-air-water machine had been proved, for it had left its hangar and flown a mile from shore in a little more than a minute.