But he came back looking quite sad.

"Why, what is the matter my boy?" said his grandfather.

George held up his kite. There was a large hole in it. In trying to
raise his kite, the little boy, being perhaps rather clumsy, had got it
entangled in a tree. Its beauty was spoiled, and George had brought it
home without having had the pleasure of seeing it up in the sky.

"Well, well," said his kind old grandfather, "we will have it mended and
try it again. Better luck next time!"

Carlo, the dog, looked up, as much as to say, "If there is anything I
can do for you, George, call on me."

But George's bright little sister Susan, without saying a word, ran into
the house and brought a pot of paste and some paper. "I'll mend it for
you, George," said she, "in three minutes."

And sure enough, she mended it so neatly that it was as good as new the
next morning, and George took it out again with a face as merry as ever.
He got it up in fine style this time, and had a grand time flying it.

It went up higher and pulled harder than any kite on the play-ground.
Susan, who often went out with George to have a share of the fun, was
hardly strong enough to hold it.

[Illustration]

One day when Susan was trying to wind up the string, the stick slipped