ut here to-morrow. Glad. But after last night afraid I'll get
so I depend on her, and the aviator that keeps his nerve has to be
sort of a friendless cuss some ways.

_May 16_: Istra came out here. Seems very discontented. I'm afraid
she's the kind to want novelty and attention incessantly, she seems to
forget that I'm pretty busy.

_May 17_: Saw Istra in town, she forgot all her discontent and her
everlasting dignity and danced for me then came over and kissed me,
she is truly a wonder, can hum a French song so you think you're among
the peasants, but she expects absolute devotion and constant amusing
and I must stick to my last if a mechanic like me is to amount to
anything.

_May 18_: Istra out here, she sat around and looked bored, wanted to
make me sore, I think. When I told her I had to leave to-morrow
morning for Rochester and couldn't come to town for dinner etc. she
flounced home. I'm sorry, I'm mighty sorry; poor kid she's always
going to be discontented wherever she is, and always getting some one
and herself all wrought up. She always wants new sensations yet
doesn't want to work, and the combination isn't very good. It'd be
great if she really worked at her painting, but she usually stops her
art just this side of the handle of a paint-brush.

Curious thing is that when she'd gone and I sat thinking about her I
didn't miss her so much as Gertie Cowles. I hope I see Gertie again
some day, she is a good pal.

Istra wanted me to name my new monoplane Babette, because she says it
looks "cunning" which the Lord knows it don't, it may look efficient
but not cunning. But I don't think I'll name it anything, tho she says
that shows lack of imagination.

People especially reporters are always asking me this question, do
aviators have imagination? I'm not sure I know what imagination is.
It's like this stuff about "sense of humor." Both phrases are pretty
bankrupt now. A few years ago when I was running a car I would make
believe I was different people, like a king driving through his
kingdom, but when I'm warping and banking I don't have time to think
about making believe. Of course I do notice sunsets and so on a good
deal but that is not imagination. And I do like to go different
places; possibly I take the imagination out that way--I guess
imagination is partly wanting to be places where you aren't--well, I
go when I want to, and I like that better.

Anyway darned if I'll give my monoplane a name. Tad Wa