"The Chinese could teach us. But, the way we make kites, there's as much in the tail as in anything else."
"Oh, but our kites are covered with paper, and you've put some old silk on yours."
"Of course I have. It isn't much heavier. The Chinese use thin paper that's as good as silk. It won't wet through."
"Wet? Oh, Sim, it looks as if a storm is coming now."
So it did, and Sim's big kite was going up, up, up very fast, and he was letting the strong brown string run rapidly off from a sort of reel he held in his hand.
"Pull in your kites, boys," shouted Parley. "Let's cut for home."
"I want to see Sim fly his."
"You all pull in yours, and we'll go into the cattle shed. It's only a shower. I can fly mine from the door."
The shed was close at hand, and the door was a wide one. In three minutes more, just as the first drops came down, there was quite a crowd of boys behind Sim, as he stood a little inside, and watched his kite. His reel was almost empty now, and the big kite looked a good deal smaller than when it started.
"How steady it is!"