. The Saturday evening post. nkin, but I aint shuah. Lan o Moses! You is the oniestwoman in Bumminham would do sech asthat. It was music to Butterflys ears andbalm to her soul. Taint nothin to beskcGrcd of Id die of fright, admitted Sis you flies with him, Butterfly, I hansit to you as the darinest woman in thistown. Butterfly shrugged; after all, if a singleflight brought her such as this, there wasreally no reason why she should not. Air-planes were nothing to be afraid of. Shefound herself planning to close her eyesbefore the take-off so that she could notvisualize altitude durin


. The Saturday evening post. nkin, but I aint shuah. Lan o Moses! You is the oniestwoman in Bumminham would do sech asthat. It was music to Butterflys ears andbalm to her soul. Taint nothin to beskcGrcd of Id die of fright, admitted Sis you flies with him, Butterfly, I hansit to you as the darinest woman in thistown. Butterfly shrugged; after all, if a singleflight brought her such as this, there wasreally no reason why she should not. Air-planes were nothing to be afraid of. Shefound herself planning to close her eyesbefore the take-off so that she could notvisualize altitude during the tour of theskies. Flyin aint nothin to cause no escite-ment. Sis Callie left. And then into the homeof Butterfly Gryson there came a steadystream of colored ladies who had heard ofthe proposed initiation into the mysteriesof aviation. Within the hour the last vestige of op-position had disappeared. As a matter offact, Butterfly could not now have refused (Continued on Pago 173) THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ii (meritsoaern.


Size: 1129px × 2215px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookidsaturdayeveningp1933unse, bookpublisherph