[QUEER KITES.]
I was once passing along a side street in an Eastern city when I caught sight of an object in the sky which seemed to be neither bird, nor balloon, nor kite. It darted about like a skipper on the surface of a pool. It would rush off to one side and the other, going through the queerest contortions and doublings, opening and shutting and throwing itself about like an acrobat. I started toward it, determined to know what the indescribable, twitching thing was. Before I had gone far I caught sight of a young Chinaman on a house-top making some queer motions with his hands. I soon saw that my curiosity in the heavens was a kite, and he was flying it.
I now saw that the kite was in the form of a parallelogram (this page is in the form of a parallelogram), and that it had no tail. What kept it from whirling round and round, as all my kites had done when their tails came off, I could not imagine. So I sought an acquaintance with the young Chinaman, and obtained a good look at the kite. I measured all the distances, and got the proportions. I looked at the materials, and learned all I could. Then I went home, and tried to make one.
I turned out something that looked very much like it. There is not much trouble in that. We can make a gong that looks like a Chinese gong, but it will not work. Neither would my kite. I took it out to try it, and before I had let out three feet of string it was whirling like a windmill. If it had any Chinese blood in its veins, it certainly hadn't become aware of it. It had all the characteristics of the rest of American-born kites.
Fig. 1.
I loosened strings and tightened strings, cut strings and slipped strings, and tied knots, but it still acted more like a windmill than a kite. I was about giving it up in despair when I happened to try a decided slip of the balance down, and the diving ceased. It would now stand still, looking as hob-tailed as one of the "three blind mice." I could make it dart about, and perform all the antics. By pulling it in rapidly I could even make it pass over my head, and go some distance back of me against the wind, and when I stopped pulling it would float back into place. I could make it double itself, and bow and dance as oddly as its Chinese model. It would sail up in the slightest breath of wind, and altogether was so entertaining that I believe some of the boys who read this paper would like to follow my recipe.
The frame is made of split bamboo. Get a piece of a bamboo or cane fish-pole (the dealers generally have broken ones which they will give you). Split it up into very thin strips, perhaps an eighth of an inch wide and a sixteenth thick. They must be very thin, for when your kite is done it ought to stand bending double as safely as a Damascus blade. You need five sticks in all. After you have these ready, make your frame in this manner (see Fig. 1): The heavy lines are the sticks, which must be tied together at A, B, C, and D. The dotted line represents the string which is put around them. A good size for the kite is about two feet. You now have the frame ready. For the cover get the lightest paper you can that is strong. Toughness of paper is very important. Put on your paper, pasting it over the strings and the stick A C. Now fasten the end of a string at A; lay the kite down with the sticks undermost; bring the string to C, and draw it until the stick A C rises in a moderate bow, B rising about two inches; then fasten at C, and clip.
The balancing is much the same as for an ordinary kite. Fasten the ends of a balance at o, o, o, o, etc., letting them cross each other about eight inches from the kite. Having got these all even, let fall one more string to support the centre (D), and tie this in with the rest. Attach your string at a point (J) about opposite the cross-stick F E, and you are ready to try it.