“Our kites are finished. May we go and fly them, Pa?”
Then the Ink-Bottle Papa said,
“One, two, three, away we go;
March like soldiers in a row!”
Then the Ink-Bottle Babies got into two rows and they followed the Ink-Bottle Papa over to the meadow.
Then they began to run and fly their kites.
“Oh, oh, oh,” cried Polly, “my kite pulls so hard!”
“Oh, oh, oh,” cried Molly, “I am afraid my kite will get away.”
The Ink-Bottle Papa said, “It is the merry March wind pulling at the kites!”
Then they laughed and danced and played in the sunshine, and by and by Papa said, “Come, sit down and rest and I will tell you a story.”