“What makes it fly up like that?”
“My feet, in the first place; but as it is filled with wind, it is very light, and rises easily,” answered the Captain. “You, in time, will be able to make it fly as high.”
“I should like to see the wind in it,” said Norman; and his papa laughed at his remark, which he thought very witty.
They continued playing for some time; Captain Vallery, proud of having a son to instruct, showing Norman how to kick the ball, and explaining the way in which real football is played by big boys.
“I wish I was a big boy, and I soon shall be, I hope, for then I shall have some one else besides a stupid girl to play with,” exclaimed Norman. “I would rather have her than you, though, because you kick the ball about more than I like, and I want to kick it all by myself.”
“You are an independent little fellow,” observed his father approvingly, instead of rebuking him for his rude remark.
Captain Vallery stood by, allowing Norman to kick the ball backwards and forwards, which he did for some time, declaring on each occasion that if it reached either one side of the shrubbery or the other he had won the game—not a very difficult matter, considering that he had no one to oppose him.
At length, the gong sounding, Captain Vallery went in to dress for dinner, and Norman was left to play by himself, for, Fanny finding she was not wanted, had entered the house, and, after exhibiting her doll to Susan, had gone to her room to introduce Miss Lucy to Nancy and to her future abode.
Norman soon grew weary of being by himself, and with his big ball in his arms, wandered into the house. Making his way into the drawing-room, he there found among a number of Indian curiosities which had just been unpacked, and which his papa intended to hang up against the wall, a long knife. Though Norman was very forward in some things, and could talk better than many boys older than he was, yet he was very ignorant in others, but of that, like many more ignorant people, he was not aware. “I should like to see the wind papa told me was inside this big ball,” he said to himself; “perhaps there is something else besides wind, it feels pretty soft—I daresay I could easily cut it open with this knife and see.” He took the knife and examined it, “I must not do it here though, or they may be coming downstairs and stop me,” so tucking the knife under one arm, and holding the big ball in the other, he went along the passage and out at the garden door. He at first proposed
