“Look!” said Fanny, “there it is up among the swallows, which are flying around it as if they never saw a kite before.”

“Female swallows, doubtless,” observed Ralph, carelessly.

“Female?  Pray, why?”

“Because they have so much curiosity; see, you have made me utter what is not common with me.”

“What, sir?”

“A bad witticism.”

Fanny laughed, and replied, gazing at the kite: 

“Your witticisms are, of course, always, fine—­no doubt very classic; now I will send up a messenger on the string.  Redbud, have you a piece of paper?”

Redbud drew the paper from her apron pocket, and gave it to Fanny, with a smile.

Fanny tore the yellow scrap into a circle, and in the centre of this circle made a hole as large as her finger.

“Now, Mr. Ralph, please untie the string from the root.”

“With pleasure,” said the young man; “for you, my heart’s delight, I would—­”

“Come, come, sir! you make an oration upon every occasion!”

With many remonstrances at being thus unceremoniously suppressed, Mr. Ralph knelt down, and untied the string.

“Does it pull strongly, Mr. Ralph?” said Redbud, smiling.

“Oh, yes! you know it was nearly as tall as myself—­just try.”

“The messenger first!” cried Fanny.

And she slipped it over the string.

“Now, Miss Redbud, just try!” said Ralph.

Redbud wrapped the string around her hand, and Ralph let it go.

“How do you like it!” he said.

“Oh!” cried Redbud, “it is so strong!—­there must be a great wind in the clouds!—­Oh!” added the girl, laughing, “it is cutting my hand in two!”

And she caught the string with her left hand to relieve the afflicted member.

“Give it to me!” cried Fanny.

“Yes, give it to her; she has the arm of an Amazon,” said Ralph, enthusiastically.

“Humph!”

And having entered this, her standing protest, Fanny laughed, and unwound the string from Redbud’s hand, on whose white surface two crimson circles were visible.

“I can hold it!” cried the young girl, “easily!”

And to display her indifference, Fanny knelt on one knee to pick up her gloves.

The consequence of this movement was, that the heavy kite, struck, doubtless, at the moment by a gust of wind, jerked the lady with the Amazonian arm so violently, that, unable to retain her position, she fell upon her left hand, then upon her face, and was dragged a pace or two by the heavy weight.

“By Jove!” cried Ralph, running to her, “did anybody—­”

“Oh, take care!” exclaimed Redbud, hastening to her friend’s assistance.

“It is nothing!” Fanny said; “I can hold it.”

And to prove this, she let go the string, which was cutting her hand in two.

The poor kite! loosed from the sustaining hand, from the earth, which, so to speak, held it up—­it sees its hopes of elevation in the world all dashed with disappointment and obscured.  It is doomed!