Johnny was beginning to be famous for his kites, and as he was a warm-hearted and generous little boy, with a large number of friends, he frequently made a kite to give away. Tiny was always ready to help him, and was particularly “handy” at making the devices of bright paper with which the kites were generally ornamented, and pasting them neatly on. When the kite was very large, she did even more than this, and Johnny never gave one away, without explaining that Tiny had shared in the making.
They had been saving all the best paper of every sort lately for the largest kite they had ever undertaken; it was so large that it was already named the Monster, and it was stretched, half finished, upon the floor of the spare garret, where it would not be disturbed. It was designed for a birthday present to one of Johnny’s very best friends, and everybody in the house was interested in it. It was to be pure white, with a pair of wings, and a bird’s head and tail, in brilliant red paper, pasted upon one side, and on the other, in large blue letters, the initials of the boy for whom it was intended.
But, with the perversity of things in general, or rather because it had been a very warm summer, and most of the poor authors had been taking holidays as much as they could, the waste-paper basket of late had not been worth the trouble of emptying.
So it was with no very great expectations that Johnny went to it one Saturday morning to see if by chance there should be a rejected manuscript of sufficient length to satisfy the Monster. No, there was nothing there but a letter written on both sides of the paper, a few pamphlets, likewise without blank sides, and some envelopes and postal cards. Johnny was turning away with a natural sigh, and the conviction that, if the Monster was ever to be finished, he must make a small appropriation out of his Christmas money, when behold! on the floor, just under the edge of the desk, and hidden by the basket, he spied a lovely manuscript; large sheets, firm, white, unruled paper, written upon only on one side.
He jumped for it with a joyful exclamation, but stopped as suddenly—had it been thrown down, and missed the basket, or had it fallen, and been neglected for the moment, because it was hidden by the desk and basket?
If Mr. Leslie had only been there, how quickly these questions could have been answered! But alas! he had left home that very morning, to be gone two days; and must a whole precious Saturday be lost on account of what was, perhaps, after all, only a needless and foolish scruple?
Then the two Johnnys—you may have observed that there are two of you?—began an argument something like this:—