Tish Marches On Read Online Free

beloved country came in sight. I remember that even Aggie rallied from her lethargy of despair.
    “By dear, by dative lad!” she said. “Ad if ever I set foot od it agaid I’ll dever leave it.”
    Poor Aggie! When I think what even then was before her my very spirit quails.
    Nevertheless, when we reached the land another blow was in store for us. It was completely unfamiliar, and there was no sign whatever of the flying field. Moreover, although we saw plenty of people, none of them seemed surprised at our strange burden, or made any effort to help. Indeed, I have learned since that it was regarded as a movie stunt of some sort, and I believe there are still extant a number of photographs showing Mr. Blane in his strange situation.
    Even Tish became seriously annoyed, the more so as no landing field of any sort was visible.
    “The dratted idiots!” she said. “Look out for a haystack, Lizzie. We’ll have to put him somewhere.”
    It was, I think, at that time that Aggie roused to make a remark which I was to remember later.
    “I wish,” she said viciously, “that Charlie Sads could see us dow.”
    I have seldom lived through a more anxious time. Now and then over the roar of the engines we could hear Mr. Blane’s voice, and he seemed to be shouting. We could not hear what he said, however. Then at last Tish slowed up the motors and leaned over the side.
    “Ahoy below!” she called. “I am going down. Catch hold of a fence or something.”
    We dipped at once, and a team of horses attached to a farm wagon shied violently and then ran away. We then passed over a golf course, and a number of people waved but made no effort to help us. At last, however, Mr. Blane managed to catch hold of some fencing and the situation was apparently saved. But at that moment a small breeze caught us, and he rose rapidly, carrying part of the fence with him.
    (I wish here to state that, while it is true that he later dropped it on a cow, it was purely accidental, nor was the cow injured. That is shown by the speed with which she ran, and also by the way she jumped a quite high barbed-wire fence.)
    It was while we were watching the cow that I heard Aggie scream.
    “Tish!” she yelled. “The church steeple. He’ll hit it!”
    It was too late. There was a jerk and the Snark leaped up and forward, throwing us all off our feet. But when we looked back Mr. Blane was safely on the top of the steeple, holding to a lightning rod with one hand while with the other, his belt having given way, he clutched at his bathing trunks.
    As we passed over him he turned his face up to us, and I regret to say that it was contorted with fury.
    It was at this time that there occurred the other incident which was to bring us such opprobrium later. Tish felt that help was still required, as the church was a remote one, and on a leaf from my pocket memorandum book she wrote as follows: “Mr. Jefferson Blane on church steeple at crossroads. Please call local fire department to rescue.”
    This, lacking anything else, she tied to a shell from her rifle; when over the next town, she caught the attention of a number of people and then dropped it. To our dismay it fell into a chimney instead, and was followed very shortly by a muffled report and a puff of smoke and soot. I continue with the clipping mentioned earlier and headed “Local Resident Shot In Leg.”
    “Not satisfied with what they had already done, the bandits then proceeded to shoot from the dirigible, one bullet striking Mr. Peter Jenks, the well-known grocer, who was reading his newspaper in front of the fire. Fortunately it lodged in his artificial leg, but Mr. Jenks is still in retirement, due to shock.”
    As we never saw Mr. Peter Jenks, the unfairness of this report is obvious.
    We circled for some time near the church steeple, and at last had the happiness of seeing people running in that direction. But it was then that Tish made one of her rare mistakes. We could, I am confident, have