done the people of America and France will take good care shall not be wasted.
The way Lindbergh bore himself after getting here was but a continuation of his flight. He started with no purpose but to arrive, he remained with no desire but to serve, he sought nothing, he was offered all. No flaw marked any act or word, and he stood forth amidst the clamor and the crowds the very embodiment of a fearless, kindly, cultivated American youth—unspoiled, unspoilable. A nation which breeds such boys need never fear for its future, When a contract for a million dollars was sent him he cabled back: “You must remember that this expedition was not organized to make money but to advance aviation.” There is the measure of his spirit, the key to his intentions.
Flying was his trade, his means of livelihood, but the love of it burned in him with a fine passion, and now that his fame will give him a wider scope of usefulness he has announced that he will devote himself wholeheartedly to the
