UFOs in the daily Press:

Who has not seen his flying saucer?

September is the month when the leaves, falling from the trees, fly with the wind, when the swallows, before leaving our regions, fly tirelessly over the rooftops. In September tax sheets also fly and, since war hysteria has driven mad, after Forrestal, a large number of American politicians, mysterious saucer-shaped or cigar-shaped craft, which journalists in search of inspiration, have baptized "flying saucers."

One already talked a lot about these fireballs that streaked in the sky.

But, this time, the matter becomes serious. Such craft have landed. Their occupants were even seen.

It was the case a few days ago, in Quarouble, and "Nord-Eclair", as fast as its title demands, was quick to delegate an envoy there, a quite special one, who swears by god, like the bloodhounds of the local police, that Mr. Dewilde's statement is entirely credible.

Of course, it was dark, Mr. Dewilde saw only a "dark mass"... but still, it's so attractive to write a novel and divert the attention of readers from German rearmament.

To achieve this goal, we welcome all the "visions" of the saucers, without being surprised that the "mysterious craft" preferably land in deserted places, always in the middle of the night, in front of a single witness...

As if by chance, the pilots of the saucers are small men with big heads, strangely similar to the Martians imagined by the authors of science-fiction novels.

That these balls of fire are simply the products of lightning, weather balloons, that would be very annoying for the piss-copy, eager for sensational news.

For my part, while waiting for a flying saucer to come and land at noon on the Grand-Place in Lille, I found a famous alibi for the evenings when I would come home very late. To my wife who asks me, furious, on the occasion: "Where have you been already?", I will no longer answer: "I met Jules whom I had not seen in 10 years". I would simply tell her: "I was crossing a field when a flying saucer came to land near me. A gnome, whose single eye shone like a beacon descended from it, kissed me, and pushed towards kindness until to offer me a drink in his craft, before the latter, in a slight rustle, took off vertically..."