The boy had only one thought in mind, just then: to comfort little Gladys by making her dolly “as good as new.” So whistling softly, in his accustomed fashion, he drew out his pocket knife and began fishing in the hole of the doll’s leg for the elastic cord that had parted and allowed her lower joint to fall off. Gladys watched this operation with wide, staring eyes; the others with more moderate interest; and presently Will caught the end of the cord, drew it out, and made a big knot in the end so it could not snap back again and disappear. Then, in the severed portion, he found the other end of the broken elastic, and when these two ends had been firmly knotted together the joints of the leg snapped firmly into place and the successful operation was completed.
“Hooray!” yelled Reginald, “it’s all right now, Gladie. We’ll postpone the funeral till another smash-up.”
The little one’s face was wreathed with smiles. She hugged the restored doll fondly to her bosom and wiped away the last tears that lingered on her cheeks. The callous nurse looked over at the group, yawned, and resumed her reading.
“Can you make a kite fly, Will?” asked Theodore, in his quiet tones.
“Don’t know, Ted,” replied Will. “What seems wrong with the thing?”
At once they all moved over to the center of the lawn, where a big kite lay with tangled cord and frazzled tail face downward upon the grass.
“It keeps ducking, and won’t go up,” explained Reginald, eagerly.
“The tail seems too long,” said Mary Louise.
“Or else the cord isn’t fastened in the right place,” added Theodore. “We’ve been working at it all morning; but it won’t fly.”
“Guess it’s a ground-kite,” remarked Annabel, demurely. “It slides on the grass all right.”