It was
quite an
affecting
sight, I
used to
think, to
see him
with the
kite when
it was up
a great
height in
the air.
What he
had told
me, in his
room,
about his
belief in
its
disseminating
the
statements
pasted on
it, which
were
nothing
but old
leaves of
abortive
Memorials,
might have
been a
fancy with
him
sometimes;
but not
when he
was out,
looking up
at the
kite in
the sky,
and
feeling it
pull and
tug at his
hand. He
never
looked so
