Paddy and Biddy were simple folk who lived near the top of Feede Mountain up there by Ravensdale. They rarely got into town and had never between them ridden on one of the new-fangled motor cars, much less an airplane. They were in Dundalk to get their monthly provisions – but also for a bit of craic.

On a normal day they had only one another’s company!

‘We’ll settle in a wee snug here in Mallons a while, till I wet me whistle!’ says Paddy.

‘We’ll do no such thing!’ scolded Bridget.

‘I’ll not have ye going home drunk, bawlin’ an’ singin’ to annoy the neighbours.’

Searching round for a distraction, she spotted an advertisement in a shop window for an “Air Circus” out on The Demense on the edge of Dundalk.

‘We’ll go to that!’ she concluded, with finality.

‘Aye! Well!’ was Paddy’s only comment.

It’s hard to accept that motorised transport – on land and in the air – is a mere century old. The Great War was just over and airplanes were used then for the first time. But not for combat. For reconnaissance. They’d fly over the trenches taking pictures. So that the gunners would know where there’d be plenty of people to kill, you understand, when they launched their shells!

It was a broken-down old Wing Commander that had the idea, after the War, to buy up a few of these canvas-covered open-topped planes and create an Air Circus to tour the provincial towns and give people a taste of flying.

There were no airports in those days – or holidays abroad after a long aeroplane journey! Anyway for 10/- anybody could go home from the Air Circus and boast that they’d been flying way up in the air, like a bird!

The Wing Commander could tell that Paddy didn’t get out much, so he began a spiel of talk to flabbergast him.

‘Aye, Paddy lad,’ he began, in a thick English accent,

‘I’ll bet you £5 you wouldn’t go up in one of those things!’

‘See that, Biddy’, says Pat.

‘He knows my name already!

Friendly fella.

You’re on!’

he says to the pilot, and climbed into the seat. No sooner was he in but the cross-straps were attached to him to make sure he stayed in. The pilot was in front. There was an empty seat behind and at the back, way down low, sat the navigator.

The pilot was rueing his quick tongue that had already lost him a £5. Paddy was wondering about the vacant seat.

‘Since there’s no one in that seat,’ he said aloud,

‘I wonder could we not take Bridget along for the ride?’

‘Aye. No bother, lad. Tell her to climb in.’

Hardly was Bridget aboard before the propellers turned and they were up in the air.

The Wing Commander was anxious to recoup his losses.

‘Tell you what, Paddy? I’ll bet you £10 I’ll make you cry out in fright before the flight is over.’

‘Well,’ says Paddy. ‘I can’t get at my wallet at the moment. But my word is my bond. Ask anybody. So you’re on.’

The pilot climbed as steeply as he could into the frosty air. Everyone held on tight, for dear life. Then, just as suddenly he put the plane into a dive that was rescued at the very last second, before impact with the ground.

Not a sound out of Paddy.

Next he took it out over Dundalk Bay and tipped the wings over, so that one canvas wing skimmed the sea waters. He rocked over and did the same with the other wing. He lifted the plane then a little and brushed the tops of the trees as he reached the land. Leaves were flying everywhere!

He climbed again and executed a great loop-de-loop. He flipped over and flew upside down for a while.

Never a word out of Paddy.

Eventually he landed back at the strip where he had begun the flight.

The pilot himself was ashen-faced and panting as he climbed out of the craft.

‘Well, Paddy, lad’, he concluded.

‘I have to hand it to you. And there’s your £10.

You know, I’ve never seen courage like yours. Not a cry. Not a word.

You were impressive.’
 

‘Ah, well,’ says Paddy. ‘Not as impressive as you might think.

Indeed, there were a few times I nearly cried out!
 

Especially that time that Biddy fell out!’