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It was

quite an

affecting

sight, I

used to

think, to

see him

with the

kite when

it was up

a great

height in

the air.

What he

had told

me, in his

room,

about his

belief in

its

disseminating

the

statements

pasted on

it, which

were

nothing

but old

leaves of

abortive

Memorials,

might have

been a

fancy with

him

sometimes;

but not

when he

was out,

looking up

at the

kite in

the sky,

and

feeling it

pull and

tug at his

hand. He

never

looked so