"You're not alone," another cried,
"In taking note. I, too, have spied
The boys of late, in street and court,
Or on the roofs, at this fine sport;
But yesternight I chanced to see
A kite entangled in a tree.
The string was nowhere to be found;
The tail about a bough was wound.
Some birds had torn the paper out,
To line their nests, in trees about,