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Updated: May 7, 2025
Tizzy's face lit up with smiles, as she held up her hands to be caught up, and the next moment her little white face was pressed against a brown one, her arms closing round the bargeman's neck, as she kissed him again and again. "Thank you, thank you, sir," she babbled. "It was so good of you, and I love you very, very much." "Hah!" sighed the man, as he set her down softly.
It was on Tizzy's little red lips to say: "Oh, please do make some paste!" but she was not peeling onions, and had no knife with a piece of bread-crumb at the end to keep the tears from coming. So come they did, and sobs with them to stop the words. "Never mind, Tiz," cried Ned, lifting her on to a chair. "Here, get on my back and I'll carry you. Cook's in a tantrum this morning."
That fine twine was badly made, or one part was damaged, for, just when poor Tizzy's little arm was being jerked by the kite in its efforts to escape and fly higher, the string parted about half-way, and the kite learned that, like many animated creatures, it could not fly alone, for it went off before the wind, falling and falling most pitifully, with Ned going at full speed after the flying string which trailed over the grass.
Away it went, higher and higher, till there was no need for the holder to run, and consequently he began to walk back towards Tizzy, unwinding more and more string till there was but little left, when the string was placed in Tizzy's hands, and, breathless and flushed with excitement, she held on, watching the soaring framework of paper, with its wings fluttering and its tail invisible all but the round knob at the end, sailing about in the air.
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