THE TORN KITE.
SHE was such a fine kite this morning, grandpa, with her bright tags and pretty tassels, and flew up in the air, oh, so beautifully, just as if she was a great wing— up—up—till she looked like a speck on the sky; then I pulled her in a little, and she came fluttering down all zigzag at first, and one of the boughs of the elm-tree went right through her, and held her fast. I climbed the tree to take her down, and here is this great hole torn, and the paper in tatters! Oh, I am so sorry! What can I do! What can I do!"
There was a little quiver in Charlie's voice, and if he had not been a boy, I should say that a tear or two fell upon the torn kite, which he hastily brushed away "I'll tell you what we can do, Charlie," said little sister Betty; "we made the kite, and we can mend it. Come round by the garden-gate with the kite, and I'll bring some papers and my pot of paste, and we'll make it as good as new. Please, grandpa, come too, and tell us if we fix it right."
So "Busy Betty," as grandpa called her, ran to the house and found papers and paste, while Charlie with the torn kite slowly followed grandpa through the garden-gate. The old man seated himself upon the stone bench outside the cottage door, took off his hat, and pushing his spectacles up, sat watching Busy Betty's fingers repairing the rents, making it as good as new, "though not quite as handsome," she said. Spitzbergen, too, the fine Pomeranian dog, sat by, looking a great deal, if he could not say it.
"Charlie," said grandpa, "I should not wonder if Busy Betty, and you and I, and Spitz too, might learn something from the torn kite. It is talking to me."
"What does it say, grandpa?" asked Busy Betty, as she pasted on a fresh piece of paper with her dear little hand.
"I did not know as my kite had any story, grandpa," said Charlie; "only that she is made of paper and sticks, and the first time I let her fly she got into trouble."
"One thing is," said grandpa, "that we must keep a good lookout. There are dangers and difficulties in every undertaking, which make it necessary to exercise caution and care and prudence, and he is a wise boy who calculates the chances that are against him as well as those for him."
"That's so," said Charlie. "I ought to have looked out for that tree, certain."
"Another is, my boy, that falls are damaging," said grandpa.
"And with all our patching and mending, our poor kite will never be a perfect kite again."
"Yes, I see that," said Charlie.
"But it will be as good as new," cried his sister cheerfully.
"Ah, there is nothing like having a little comforter," said grandpa. "'A friend in need is a friend indeed.' It is in misfortunes that we need helping hands and sympathizing hearts." "Yes, grandpa," said Charlie pleasantly, my sister is—is—splendid."
"In other words, a handy, helpful little girl, which is far better," said the old man, looking kindly on the little folks.—
Child's Paper.