Chapter XV.
A Lesson in Ballooning.
Perhaps no one will be able to take in the moral lurking in the following chapters—except, it may be, some atramental old critic, who can discern a “hidden meaning” where no meaning, “hidden” or otherwise, is intended. Our only hope of escape from such critics is that they will consider this story entirely beneath their notice, and so pass it by in silence and contempt.
Will was sent to his aunt’s. This would have been, perhaps, a wise proceeding, if his aunt had been a severe old maid—but she was not. She was, on the contrary, a loving and cheerful woman, with a mettlesome, rattle-headed, yet resolute, son, Will’s “Cousin Henry.”
Will’s rueful mien excited the compassion of the entire family to such an extent that they did their utmost to divert him. Cousin Henry, with a noble disregard of self, gave up his school for two weeks, and devoted himself wholly to Will’s services. The sequel was, the two were soon sworn bosom-friends, pledged to stand by each other to the close of life.
Now, as this Henry was a hare-brained sort of fellow, permitted to do as he pleased, it may readily be supposed that he and Will were not long in getting into trouble.
“Will, did you see my balloon when you were here last?” Henry asked one day.
“Balloon? No; can you make a balloon?” Will inquired, in some surprise.
“Of course I can. American boys can make or do anything. All we want is some tissue paper for the cover; whalebone or cane for the ribs; a piece of wire; and a piece of cotton batten dipped in alcohol to make the gas.”
“I never heard of such a balloon,” Will replied. “How do you make the gas?”