HONE UP IN THE AIR

Manawatu Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 2368, 15 December 1921, Page 3

HONE UP IN THE AIR

Hone entered the editorial sanctum in a state of excitement, and mopping his brow he exclaimed: “Py kripe, I get te time my life I peen up in te flying machine!”

So you have been up in the air, Hone? Tell us all about it.

Tat te werry hard ting for Hone to talk apout. Last Saturday apternoon Repecca he hear te funny noise in te air, and run like te devil to me. I lying down on te bed. Repecca he point te finger up te sky and sing out: “Tiro! Tiro! Te flying taniwha ! Herra! te end te world!” and she tumble backshide first over te dog! Py lcripe, Hone link she te roonatik right enuff tis time. I frighten for that, and then I rook up and see te flying machine, and te horse and cow do te Grand National over te fence, and all te fowl run for te lupin. Te men in te flying machine see Repecca. tumble over, and lie wave te hand when I come out, and then he gone over Foxton. Repecca. cry wit te fright and te bad bruise where he sit down. I terra Repecca tis not te taniwha, and we go Foxton have a rook. I can’t; catch (e horse for pout two hour. Repecca come wit me, and we drive to my ole friend Frank Robinson place. Tis te place where tc flying machine come down. Lot of people rook at te machine, and feel te wing—tc bald-headed wing—no feather —te long tail cock up at te end. Underneath only two wheel. One pheller say: “You goin’ to have a fly, Hone?” I say taihoa, I have a rook. Ten anudder pheller he larp and say Hone too fat, te seat too small in te machine. I shake te hand Mittn Mercer. Py kripe, he te brave man fly te machine. Hone terra Mitt a Mercer he te best man Non Zealand, and te rangilira. He say, “You lika te fly wit me) Hone? T lake you up?” T get te korero wit Repecca, and she terra me I te bally fool, and might I newer come back, and Repecen cry. Mitta Mercer terra Repecca he not want to make le angel of Hone. Worm, Mitta Edita, T shake te hand Mitta Mercer and say Igo up. Repecca wont rook. She put te shawl over te head and get te langi. I climb on te wing and sit werry light in te small chair pehind Mitta Mercer. Te young pheller 'he pull te propeller and say “Conlak,” and Mitta Mercer he say “Conlak.” Ten te enshine start, and te wind blow worry hard, and te machine move along te ground werry quick on te wheel, and up he go. Te ground go away from Hone, and Hone feel like his inshide want to come up to his month. Py kripe, that te funny feeling. Up we go, and Hone rook out te little window and see all Noo Zealand. Te Manawatu River look like tc big Inna twist and turn, te sea breaking along te bench, Ivapiti, te lop te mountain. Knpai! I rook down Foxton, all to houses and garden. All look better up there. Hinialnngi and le lakes jus like te big moving picture. Ten te machine move over like te canoe when he hit tc side of a wave, and Hone coming down. To enshine stop, and te machine glide like te bird, and te machine run on te wheel. Py kripe! I werry please come down again. I shake te hand Mitta Mercer, and terra him I got te trink for him. But he sav he. only trink te remonnde. All te boy and gal clap te hand for Hone, pecause lie te big rangilira go up in tc air. Hone higher than all his grandfadder. Ten Igo see Repecca, and she say next time I go up she die — lie don’t like it. But Hone tc werry proud man now pecause he te bird man.