Do come, papa!" "Certainly," said my father; "only don't cry so loud,--kites make no noise in rising; yet, you see how they soar above the world.

Come, Kate.
Where is my hat?
Ah!--thank you, my boy." "Kitty," said my father, looking at the kite, which, attached by its string to the peg I had stuck into the ground, rested calm in the sky, "never fear but what our kite shall fly as high; only, the human soul has stronger instincts to mount upward than a few sheets of paper on a framework of lath.

But observe that to prevent its being lost in the freedom of space,--we must attach it lightly to earth; and observe again, my dear, that the higher it soars, the more string we must give it.".