"Does it pull that bad?"
"I made it!" said the kite-flyer, with laconic self-complacence.
"Goodness gracious!" said Annie Eliza, looking up into the blue sky once more.
Lonely emitted a gentle little ruminative sigh.
"Why, that box-kite is nothin'. I had a house-kite, once, in Cowansburg, and I had Winnie Douglas come and hold it for me, while I was stoppin' Gilead from eatin' one o' Pop's harness traces."
Whenever Lonely O'Malley saw red, as he was doing at that moment. Veracity shuddered on her throne.
"Go on!" said Annie Eliza.
Lonely tested the tension on his kite-string critically, pulled it in a yard or two, with a great show of exertion, and still further played for time. For Jappie Barrison and Betty Doyle and the Bird girls were coming across the Common. The larger Lonely's audience the more rapt was his recital.
"I left her there holdin' that big house-kite o' mine," went on Lonely, "and first thing I knew, along came an extra strong puff o' wind.
