w of the real fragility
of that rigid structure startled me considerably, while Commander O.
discomposed me still more by shouting repeatedly: "Don't put your foot
there!" I didn't know where to put my foot. There was a slight crack; I
heard some swear-words below me, and then with a supreme effort I rolled
in and dropped into a basket-chair, absolutely winded. A small crowd of
mechanics and officers were looking up at me from the ground, and while I
gasped visibly I thought to myself that they would be sure to put it down
to sheer nervousness. But I hadn't breath enough in my body to stick my
head out and shout down to them:

"You know, it isn't that at all!"

Generally I try not to think of my age and infirmities. They are not a
cheerful subject. But I was never so angry and disgusted with them as
during that minute or so before the machine took the water. As to my
feelings in the air, those who will read these lines will know their own,
which are so much nearer the mind and the heart than any writings of an
unprofessional can be. At first all my faculties were absorbed and as if
neutralised by the sheer novelty of the situation. The first to emerge
was the sense of security so much more perfect than in any small boat
I've ever been in; the, as it were, material, stillness, and immobility
(though it was a bumpy day). I very soon ceased to hear the roar of the
wind and engines--unless, indeed, some cylinders missed, when I became
acutely aware of that. Within the rigid spread of the powerful planes,
so strangely motionless I had sometimes the illusion of sitting as if by
enchantment in a block of suspended marble. Even while looking over at
the aeroplane's shadow running prettily over land and sea, I had the
impression of extreme slowness. I imagine that had she suddenly nose-
dived out of control, I would have gone to the final smash without a
single additional heartbeat. I am sure I would not have known. It is
doubtless otherwise with the man in control.

But there was no dive, and I returned to earth (after an hour and twenty
minutes) without having felt "bored" for a single second. I descended
(by the ladder) thinking that I would never go flying again. No, never
any more--lest its mysterious fascination, whose invisible wing had
brushed my heart up there, should change to unavailing regret in a man
too old for its glory.

SOME REFLECTIONS ON THE LOSS OF THE TITANIC--1912

It is with a c