THE Kite laughed and chuckled to himself until his paper fairly
crackled.
"We shall have such a game," said he to his paper Tails.
"We mostly do," squeaked the Tails.
There were eighteen of them, and they were all very frisky.
The Kite first winked one eye, then the other, then winked both
together.
I'm afraid he was rather a vulgar sort of a Kite, but he was very jolly.
His eyes were inclined to be goggly, yellow round the outside, with red
in the middle. He was not a particularly good-looking Kite--in fact, he
was really ugly--but he was very funny, and loved a joke.
The string suddenly wakened up out of a nap, hearing talk going on, "Eh,
what's that?" said he.
"Don't know," said the Tails.
The Kite laughed again, and shook his round ears, and showed all his
teeth in one wide grin. "We'll have a game this afternoon," said he,
once more.
"Oh," said the String. "We mostly do."
The Kite stuck up his pointed chin, and shook his red paper beard. "I
mean a different sort of game to what _you_ mean," said he. "You mean,
we have a game when young Walter takes us out. But I don't mean _that_."
"Then what _do_ you mean?" said the String, who didn't care about
guessing.
"When he takes us out, we have to go where _he_ likes, and fly when he
chooses us to fly," said the Kite. "Now _I_ mean, we'll fly young
Walter."
"Eh?" said the String.
[Illustration]
The String was rather sleepy-headed, and didn't take in new ideas very
quickly. He was so astonished now that he unrolled himself several
yards, and wriggled about round the Kite, to look at him, as if he must
be out of his mind.
"Eh?" said all the Tails, after a flutter of surprise. But they thought
it was a joke, and that the Kite only meant to be funny. The Kite
straightened himself, and looked very important. "When I say a thing, I
mean it," said he, in a dignified manner.
"Well, but--" said one Tail, timidly.
"_Well_, but what?" snapped the Kite. "You don't know what you're
talking about. I say we'll fly--"
At that minute up came Walter. He took hold of the Kite, and was winding
up the String, when the Kite said--
"Master Walter, let's fly _you_ to day!"
Walter stared and laughed.
"You couldn't," said he. "You're only made of paper."
"Let us try," said the Kite.
"I mustn't go far, then," said Walter, "because my mother would wonder
where I was."
So the String was tied about Walter, and up he flew. It was very jolly,
and he flew here and there like a bird. The Kite and the String were
delighted, and the Tails kept on a chatter, chatter, chatter, like
eighteen little magpies all in a row. But the Kite found it hard work
after a time. He had to mind the string, and watch lest Walter should
tumble down, and keep on doing this and doing that, instead of
pleasantly fluttering about. He got cross and grumpy at last. "I think
the old way's the best," said he. "Next time I'll go up. Old ways are
best, after all."
[Illustration]