In this pleasant way they strolled along the brook which stole by in sun and shadow, over mossy rocks, and under bulrushes, where the minnows haunted--which brook, tradition (and the maps) call to-day by the name of one member of that party; and so, passing over the slip of meadow, where Verty declared the hares were accustomed to gambol by moonlight, once more came again toward the locust-grove of "dear old Apple Orchard,"--(Fanny's phrase,)--and entered in again, and threw down their treasures of bright flowers and bird's-nests--for they had taken some old ones from the trees--and laughed, sang, and were happy. "Why! what a day!" cried Ralph; "if we only had a kite now!" "A kite!" cried Fanny. "Yes." "An elegant college gentleman--" "Oh--suspend the college gentleman, if I may use the paraphrase," said Mr. Ralph; "why can't you permit a man to return again, my heart's delight, to his far youth." "_Far_ youth." "Ages ago--but in spite of that, I tell you I want to see a fine kite sailing up there." "Make it, then!" "By Jove! I will, if Miss Redbud will supply--" "The materials? Certainly, in one moment, Mr. Ralph," said Redbud, smiling softly; "how nice it will be!" "Twine, scissors, paper," said Ralph; "we'll have it done immediately." Redbud went, and soon returned with the materials; and the whole laughing party began to work upon the kite. Such was their dispatch, that, in an hour it was ready, taken to the meadow, and there, with the united assistance of gentlemen and ladies, launched into the sky. CHAPTER XLVI. THE HAPPY AUTUMN FIELDS. The rolling ground beyond the meadow, where the oaks rustled, was the point of departure of the kite--the post from which it sailed forth on its aerial voyage. The whole affair was a success, and never did merrier hearts watch a kite. It was beautifully made--of beautiful paper, all red, and blue and yellow--and the young girls had completely surrounded it with figures of silver paper, and decorated it, from head to foot, with flowers. Thus, when it ascended slowly into the cerulean heavens, as said the poetical Ralph, its long, flower-decorated streamers rippling in the wind, it was greeted with loud cries of joy and admiration--thunders of applause and enthusiastic encouragement to "go on!" from Ralph, who had grown very young again--from Fanny, even more exaggerated cries. That young lady seemed to be on the point of flying after it--the breeze seemed about to bear her away, and she clapped her hands and followed the high sailing paper-bird with such delight, that Ralph suggested she should be sent up as a messenger. "No," said Fanny, growing a little calmer, but laughing still, "I'm afraid I should grow dizzy." And looking at the kite, which soared far up, and seemed to be peeping from side to side, around the small white clouds, Fanny laughed more than ever.