The Northern weather so far shows no sign of improvement. From all
quarters come complaints of the unusual prevalence of sleet at the
higher levels. Racing planes and digs alike have suffered severely--the
former from unequal deposits of half-frozen slush on their vans (and
only those who have “held up” a badly balanced plane in a cross-wind
know what that means), and the latter from loaded bows and snow-cased
bodies. As a consequence, the Northern and North-western upper levels
have been practically abandoned, and the high fliers have returned to
the ignoble security of the Three, Five, and Six hundred foot levels.
But there remain a few undaunted sun-hunters who, in spite of frozen
stays and ice-jammed connecting-rods, still haunt the blue empyrean.