PARIS, May 24, 1927 (UP) -- Charles A. Lindbergh looked forward today to the time when transatlantic airplane service would be a commercial possibility.
The young aviator, speaking before the American Club, where he was a guest, objected to being called a "flying fool," told his hearers that he believed his flight was more than a bit of luck, and that it demonstrated the practicability of overseas flying in modern planes.
"I am convinced," Lindbergh said, "that the trip demonstrated the practicability of modern planes and motors and that it will be in comparatively short time now until regular Atlantic crossing will be made."
"But we must not talk of carrying passengers until engineers devise mid-ocean floating landing places."
He told something of his flight to a highly interested audience.
"There has been much said about the 'flying fool' and 'Lucky Lindbergh,'" he said, but I want to assure you the flight was thoroly studied and everything was organized before I hopped off."
He said the happiest moment of his whole flight was not when he reached Paris, but when he saw the first sight life of life, a tiny fishing boat about 100 miles off the Irish coast.
Ambassador Myron T. Herrick, referring to the warmth of the reception given Lindbergh by the French people, declared jokingly that he favored taking international affairs out of the hands of politicians and putting them into the hands of a committee of sportsmen, of which he could make Lindbergh the chairman.
Lindbergh said he had made no plans for any future long flights and reiterated that he had not the slightest intention of trying a Pacific trip. He wished, however, to see more of Europe.
"This time is most inopportune for a Pacific flight," he explained. "I have made one flight; that's enough for the moment."
Lindbergh turned from invitations to be the guest of royalty in virtually every capital in Europe and from others of promoters begging him to accept contracts running into millions, and told the United Press he wanted to go back in the air mail service.
"I never really left the air mail," he said. "I think I can get my job back."
Lindbergh persistently ignored the offers of lecture bureaus, motion picture magnates and theatrical agents.
While all Paris crowded for the privilege of doing him honor, Lindbergh's plans for the immediate future began to take shape.
Tomorrow morning, he will escape from receptions of presidents and dinners of cabinet members to got to the Le Bourget Field, don his overalls and make sure that the Ryan monoplane which carried him 3,600 miles in 33 1/2 hours is in good condition.
Saturday morning he plans to crawl into his plane, circle Paris a few times to let the people look at their idol, and then wing north to Brussels. Monday he will cross the channel to London.
Despite the offers of steamship lines to give free passage to Lindbergh's mother if she cares to join him in Paris, he does not expect her to come here.