"You couldn't," said he. "You're only made of paper."
"Let us try," said the Kite.
"I mustn't go far, then," said Walter, "because my mother would wonder where I was."
So the String was tied about Walter, and up he flew. It was very jolly, and he flew here and there like a bird. The Kite and the String were delighted, and the Tails kept on a chatter, chatter, chatter, like eighteen little magpies all in a row. But the Kite found it hard work after a time. He had to mind the string, and watch lest Walter should tumble down, and keep on doing this and doing that, instead of pleasantly fluttering about. He got cross and grumpy at last. "I think the old way's the best," said he. "Next time I'll go up. Old ways are best, after all."
The Birds and the Fishes.
I think you will own
That it is very rare
To see fishes and frogs
Sail about in the air,
While the birds and the poultry
Are swimming about
Like so many mackerel
Or pikes, sprats, or trout,
In old times, the fishes,
And birds, were content
To remain all their lives
In their own element.
Things are different now:
They have changed the old times,
Turned the world topsy-turvy,
With no reasons or rhymes.
But I think you'll agree
It is simply absurd
For a fish to pretend
He is just like a bird.
But for birds to be fishes
Is really as bad:
One would fancy they all
Had surely gone mad.
For fishes cold water,
For birds a warm nest,
Of all places, truly,
Is the very best.
