Lesson 5 : Our Runaway Kite Lucy Maud Montgomery

The author and the text : 

Lucy Maud Montgomery (1874-1942) was a Canadian author best known for a series of novels beginning with Anne of Green Gables. She wrote numerous novels, poems, and short stories. She was made an Officer of the Order of the British Empire in 1935. 

āϞ⧁āϏāĻŋ āĻŽā§ŒāĻĄ āĻŽāĻ¨ā§āϟāĻ—āĻžā§‡āĻŽāĻžāϰāĻŋ (ā§§ā§Žā§­ā§Ē-⧧⧝ā§Ē⧍) āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύ āĻāĻ•āϜāύ āĻ•āĻžāύāĻžāĻĄā§€āϝāĻŧ āϞ⧇āĻ–āĻŋāĻ•āĻž āϝāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϏāĻŦāĻšā§‡āϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻŦ⧇āĻļāĻŋ āĻĒāϰāĻŋāϚāĻŋāϤ āĻāĻ•āϗ⧁āĻšā§āĻ› āωāĻĒāĻ¨ā§āϝāĻžāϏ⧇āϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ, āϝāĻžāϰ āĻļ⧁āϰ⧁ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ ⧧⧝ā§Ļā§Ž āϏāĻžāϞ⧇ ‘āĻ…ā§āϝāĻžāύ āĻ…āĻ­ āĻ—ā§āϰ⧀āύ āϗ⧇āĻŦāϞāĻ¸â€™ āύāĻžāĻŽāĻ• āωāĻĒāĻ¨ā§āϝāĻžāϏ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĨ¤ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻĒā§āϰāϚ⧁āϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻŦāĻ¨ā§āϧ, āĻ•āĻŦāĻŋāϤāĻž āĻ“ āĻ›āĻžā§‡āĻŸā§‹āĻ—āĻ˛ā§āĻĒ āϞ⧇āϖ⧇āύāĨ¤ ā§§ā§¯ā§Šā§Ģ āϏāĻžāϞ⧇ ‘āĻ…āĻĢāĻŋāϏāĻžāϰ āĻ…āĻ­ āĻĻā§āϝ āĻ…āĻ°ā§āĻĄāĻžāϰ āĻ…āĻ­ āĻĻā§āϝ āĻŦā§āϰāĻŋāϟāĻŋāĻļ āĻāĻŽā§āĻĒāĻžāϝāĻŧāĻžāĻ°â€™ āĻĒāĻĻ⧇ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻ…āϧāĻŋāĻˇā§āĻ āĻŋāϤ āĻšāύāĨ¤

This short story is about a brother and a sister living on an isolated island with their father, who, through a series of incidents, get reunited with their long–lost relatives. It is a touching tale that underlines the value of relationships. 

āĻ›āĻžā§‡āĻŸā§‹āĻ—āĻ˛ā§āĻĒāϟāĻŋ āĻāĻ• āĻ­āĻžāχ āĻ“ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āύ⧇āϰ āĻ—āĻ˛ā§āĻĒ āϝāĻžāϰāĻž āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻžāϰ āϏāĻžāĻĨ⧇ āĻāĻ• āĻŦāĻŋāĻšā§āĻ›āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āύ āĻĻā§āĻŦā§€āĻĒ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāϏ āĻ•āϰāϤ, āϝāĻžāϰāĻž āĻāĻ• āϘāϟāύāĻžāĻĒā§āϰāĻŦāĻžāĻšā§‡āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĻā§€āĻ°ā§āϘāĻĻāĻŋāύ⧇āϰ āĻšāĻžāϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϝāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āφāĻ¤ā§āĻŽā§€āϝāĻŧāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϏāĻžāĻĨ⧇ āĻĒ⧁āύāĻ°ā§āĻŽāĻŋāϞāĻŋāϤ āĻšāϝāĻŧāĨ¤ āĻāϟāĻŋ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻŋ āĻŽāĻ°ā§āĻŽāĻ¸ā§āĻĒāĻ°ā§āĻļā§€ āĻ—āĻ˛ā§āĻĒ āϝāĻž āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āφāĻ¤ā§āĻŽā§€āϝāĻŧāϤāĻžāϰ āϏāĻŽā§āĻĒāĻ°ā§āϕ⧇āϰ āĻŽā§‚āĻ˛ā§āϝ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āĻāĻžāϝāĻŧāĨ¤

Read the following : 

Unit 1 

Of course, there was nobody for us to play with on the Big Half Moon. We just had to make the most of each other, and we did. 

āĻāϟāĻž āϏāĻ¤ā§āϝāĻŋ, āϝ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āϖ⧇āϞāĻžāϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ— āĻšāĻžāĻĢ āĻŽā§āύ⧇ āϕ⧇āωāχ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻāϕ⧇ āĻ…āĻĒāϰ⧇āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āϝāϤāϟāĻž āωāĻĒāĻ­ā§‹āĻ— āĻ•āϰāĻž āϏāĻŽā§āĻ­āĻŦ āĻšāϤ, āϤāϤāϟ⧁āϕ⧁āχ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻ§ā§āϝ āĻšāϤāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤Â 

We live on the Big Half Moon island. ‘ We ‘ are Father and Claude and I and Aunt Esther and Mimi and Dick. It used to be only Father and Claude and I. It is all on account of the kite that there are more of us. This is what I want to tell you about. 

āĻŦāĻŋāĻ— āĻšāĻžāĻĢ āĻŽā§āύ āφāχāĻ˛ā§āϝāĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻĄā§‡ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻĨāĻžāĻ•āĻŋāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻŽāĻžāύ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž āφāĻŽāĻŋ, āĻāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻŋāϏāĻŋ, āĻŽāĻŋāĻŽāĻŋ āφāϰ āĻĄāĻŋāĻ•āĨ¤ āφāϗ⧇ āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ āĻļ⧁āϧ⧁ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž, āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄ āφāϰ āφāĻŽāĻŋāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϝ⧇ āĻāĻ–āĻžāύ⧇ āĻŦ⧇āĻļāĻŋāϜāύ āϰāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋ āϤāĻž āĻ“āχ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϟāĻŋāϰ āĻ•āĻžāϰāϪ⧇āĨ¤ āϏ⧇āχ āĻ•āĻĨāĻžāχ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϤāĻžā§‡āĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŦāϞāϤ⧇ āϚāĻžāχāĨ¤Â 

Father is the keeper of the Big Half Moon lighthouse. I am eleven years old. Claude is twelve. In winter, when the harbour is frozen over, we all move over to the mainland. As soon as spring comes, back we sail to our own dear island. 

āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž āĻāχ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ— āĻšāĻžāĻĢ āĻŽā§āύ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻŋāϘāϰ⧇āϰ āϰāĻ•ā§āώ⧀āĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŦāϝāĻŧāϏ āĻāĻ—āĻžāϰ⧇āĨ¤ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄā§‡āϰ āĻŦāĻžāϰāĻžā§‡āĨ¤ āĻļā§€āϤāĻ•āĻžāϞ⧇ āϝāĻ–āύ āĻŦāĻ¨ā§āĻĻāϰāϟāĻŋ āĻŦāϰāĻĢ⧇ āĻĸ⧇āϕ⧇ āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧ, āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϏāĻ•āϞ⧇ āĻŽā§‚āϞ āĻ­ā§‚āĻ–āĻŖā§āĻĄā§‡ āϚāϞ⧇ āϝāĻžāχāĨ¤ āĻŦāϏāĻ¨ā§āϤ āφāϏāĻžāĻŽāĻžāĻ¤ā§āϰāχ āφāĻŦāĻžāϰ āϚāϞ⧇ āφāϏāĻŋ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āύāĻŋāĻœā§‡āĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧ āĻĻā§āĻŦā§€āĻĒ⧇āĨ¤Â 

The funny part used to be that people always pitied us when the time came for us to return. They said we must be so lonesome over there, with no other children near us. Of course, Claude and I would have liked to have someone to play with us. It is hard to run pirate caves and things like that with only two. But we used to quarrel a good deal with the mainland children in winter. So it was perhaps just as well that there were none of them on the Big Half Moon. Claude and I never quarrelled.

āĻŽāϜāĻžāϰ āĻŦā§āϝāĻžāĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻšāϤ āϝāĻ–āύ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĢ⧇āϰāĻžāϰ āϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ āϞāĻžā§‡āϕ⧇āϰāĻž āϏāĻŦāϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ āϏāĻŽāĻŦ⧇āĻĻāύāĻž āϜāĻžāύāĻžāϤāĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻŦāϞāϤ āĻāĻ–āĻžāύ⧇ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻ•āϤ āĻāĻ•āĻž, āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻ•āĻžāĻ›āĻžāĻ•āĻžāĻ›āĻŋ āφāϰ āϕ⧋āύāĻžā§‡ āĻŦāĻžāĻšā§āϚāĻž āύ⧇āχ | āĻ…āĻŦāĻļā§āϝ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āφāϰ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄ āĻ•āĻžāωāϕ⧇ āϖ⧇āϞāĻžāϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āĻ—ā§€ āĻšāĻŋāϏ⧇āĻŦ⧇ āĻĒ⧇āϤ⧇ āϚāĻžāχāϤāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āĻļ⧁āϧ⧁ āĻĻ⧁āϜāύ⧇ āĻŽāĻŋāϞ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāχāϰ⧇āϟ āϕ⧇āĻ­āϏ āĻŦāĻž āĻ“āχ āϧāϰāύ⧇āϰ āϖ⧇āϞāĻž āĻ•āϰāĻž āϖ⧁āĻŦāχ āĻ•āĻ āĻŋāύāĨ¤ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻļā§€āϤāĻ•āĻžāϞ⧇ āĻŽā§‚āϞ āĻ­ā§‚āĻ–āĻŖā§āĻĄā§‡āϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻšā§āϚāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻāĻ—āĻĄāĻŧāĻž āĻ•āϰāϤāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āϤāĻžāχ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āϧāĻšāϝāĻŧ āĻ­āĻžāϞāχ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āϝ⧇ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āϕ⧇āωāχ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ— āĻšāĻžāĻĢ āĻŽā§āύ⧇ āĻĨāĻžāĻ•āϤ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄ āφāϰ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ•āĻ–āύāĻžā§‡āχ āĻāĻ—āĻĄāĻŧāĻž āĻ•āϰāϤāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻžāĨ¤Â 

To be sure, Father didn’t seem to have any relations except us. This used to puzzle Claude and me. Everybody on the mainland had relations. Why hadn’t we ? Was it because we lived on an island? We thought it would be so jolly to have an uncle and aunt and some cousins. Once we asked Father about it, but he looked so sorrowful that we wished we hadn’t. He said it was all his fault. Claude and I didn’t understand what he meant. 

āĻāϟāĻž āϏāĻ¤ā§āϝāĻŋ āϝ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻžāϰ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻ›āĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āφāϰ āϕ⧋āύāĻžā§‡ āφāĻ¤ā§āĻŽā§€āϝāĻŧāĻ¸ā§āĻŦāϜāύ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āĻāϟāĻž āφāĻŽāĻžāϕ⧇ āφāϰ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄāϕ⧇ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ¸ā§āĻŽāĻŋāϤ āĻ•āϰāϤāĨ¤ āĻŽā§‚āϞ āĻ­ā§‚āĻ–āĻŖā§āĻĄā§‡ āϏāĻ•āϞ⧇āϰāχ āφāĻ¤ā§āĻŽā§€āϝāĻŧ āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϕ⧇āύ āύāϝāĻŧ? āĻāϟāĻž āĻ•āĻŋ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻĻā§āĻŦā§€āĻĒ⧇ āĻĨāĻžāĻ•āĻŋ āĻŦāϞ⧇? āφāĻŽāϰāĻž | āĻ­āĻžāĻŦāϤāĻžāĻŽ āĻāĻ•āϜāύ āĻ•āĻžāĻ•āĻž āφāϰ āĻĒāĻŋāϏāĻŋ āφāϰ āĻ•āĻŋāϛ⧁ āĻ­āĻžāχāĻŦāĻžā§‡āύ āĻĨāĻžāĻ•āϞ⧇ āĻ•āϤ āĻŽāϜāĻž āĻšāϤāĨ¤ āĻāĻ•āĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻāχ āĻĒā§āϰāĻļā§āύ āĻ•āϰāĻžāϤ⧇ āϤāĻžāρāϕ⧇ āĻāϤ āĻĻ⧁āσāĻ–ā§€ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āĻžāϞ āϝ⧇ āϜāĻŋāĻœā§āĻžā§‡āϏ āύāĻž āĻ•āϰāϞ⧇āχ āϝ⧇āύ āĻ­āĻžāϞāĻžā§‡ āĻšāϤāĨ¤ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻŦāϞāϞ⧇āύ, āϏāĻŦāχ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĻā§‹āώāĨ¤ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄ āφāϰ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻŦ⧁āĻāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāϞāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻž āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϕ⧀ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āĻāĻžāϤ⧇ āϚāĻžāχāϛ⧇āύāĨ¤

Unit 2 

It is always lovely on the Big Half Moon in summer. When it is fine, the harbour is blue and calm, with little wind and ripples. Every summer, we had some hobby. The last summer before Dick and Mimi came, we were crazy about kites. A boy on the mainland showed Claude how to make them. Back on the island, we made plenty of kites. Claude would go around to the other side of the islan,d and we would play shipwrecked mariners signalling to each other with kites. 

āĻŦāĻŋāĻ— āĻšāĻžāĻĢ āĻŽā§āύ⧇ āĻ—ā§āϰ⧀āĻˇā§āĻŽāĻ•āĻžāϞ āϏāĻŦāϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧāχ āϏ⧁āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāϰāĨ¤ āφāĻŦāĻšāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋ āĻŦāĻ¨ā§āĻĻāϰāϟāĻŋ āύ⧀āϞ āĻ“ āĻļāĻžāĻ¨ā§āϤ āĻĨāĻžāϕ⧇, āĻŽā§ƒāĻĻ⧁ āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏ āφāϰ āĻ›āĻžā§‡āĻŸā§‹ āĻ›āĻžā§‡āĻŸā§‹ āĻĸ⧇āω āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻĨāĻžāϕ⧇āχ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋ āĻ—ā§āϰ⧀āĻˇā§āĻŽā§‡āχ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻ•āĻŋāϛ⧁ āĻļāĻ– āĻšāϤāĨ¤ āĻ—āϤ āĻ—ā§āϰ⧀āĻˇā§āĻŽā§‡ āĻĄāĻŋāĻ• āφāϰ āĻŽāĻŋāĻŽāĻŋ āφāϏāĻžāϰ āφāϗ⧇ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻŽā§‡āϤ⧇ āωāĻ āϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āĻŽā§‚āϞ āĻ­ā§‚āĻ–āĻ¨ā§āĻĄā§‡āϰ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻŋ āϛ⧇āϞ⧇ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄāϕ⧇ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻŦāĻžāύāĻžāϤ⧇ āĻļāĻŋāĻ–āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āĻĻā§āĻŦā§€āĻĒ⧇ āĻĢāĻŋāϰ⧇ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻ…āύ⧇āĻ• āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻŦāĻžāύāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄ āĻĻā§āĻŦā§€āĻĒ⧇āϰ āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āϝ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϝ⧇āϤ āφāϰ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϜāĻžāĻšāĻžāϜāĻĄā§āĻŦāĻŋ āĻšāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āύāĻžāĻŦāĻŋāĻ•āĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŽāϤāĻžā§‡ āĻāϕ⧇ āĻ…āĻĒāϰāϕ⧇ āϏāĻ‚āϕ⧇āϤ āϜāĻžāύāĻžāύ⧋āϰ āϖ⧇āϞāĻž āϖ⧇āϞāϤāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤

We had a kite that was big and covered with lovely red paper. We pasted gold tinsel stars all over it and had written our names full on it – Claude Leete and Philippa Leete, Big Half Moon lighthouse.

āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āϝ⧇āϟāĻž āϖ⧁āĻŦāχ āĻŦāĻĄāĻŧāĻžā§‡ āφāϰ āϏ⧁āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāϰ āϞāĻžāϞ āĻ•āĻžāĻ—āĻœā§‡ āĻŽāĻžā§‡āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĨ¤ āĻāϟāĻŋāϰ āϏāĻžāϰāĻž āĻ—āĻžāϝāĻŧ⧇ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϏāĻžā§‡āύāĻžāϞāĻŋ āϤāĻžāϰāĻžāϰ āφāĻ•ā§ƒāϤāĻŋāϰ āϚ⧁āĻŽāĻ•āĻŋ āϏ⧇āρāĻŸā§‡ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĒ⧁āϰāĻžā§‡ āύāĻžāĻŽâ€”āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄ āϞāĻŋāϟ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻĢāĻŋāϞāĻŋāĻĒā§āĻĒāĻž āϞāĻŋāϟ, āĻŦāĻŋāĻ— āĻšāĻžāĻĢ āĻŽā§āύ āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻŋāϘāϰ āϞ⧇āĻ–āĻž āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĻāϰ āĻ“āĻĒāϰ⧇āĨ¤

One day, there was a grand wind for kite flying. I’m not sure how it happened, but as I was bringing the kite from the house, I tripped and fell over the rocks. My elbow went clear through the kite, making a big hole. 

āĻāĻ•āĻĻāĻŋāύ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻ“āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāύāĻžā§‡āϰ āωāĻĒāϝāĻžā§‡āĻ—ā§€ āϚāĻŽā§ŽāĻ•āĻžāϰ āĻšāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āĻŦāχāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ āĻŋāĻ• āĻŦ⧁āĻāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāϞāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻž āϕ⧀ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻāϟāĻž āϘāϟāϞ, āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϟāĻž āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āφāϏāĻžāϰ āϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻšā§‹āρāϚāϟ āϖ⧇āϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāĻĨāϰ⧇āϰ āĻ“āĻĒāϰ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āϗ⧇āϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻ•āύ⧁āχāϟāĻž āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻĸ⧁āϕ⧇ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻŦāĻĄāĻŧāĻžā§‡āϏāĻĄāĻŧāĻžā§‡ āĻĢ⧁āĻŸā§‹ āϤ⧈āϰāĻŋ āĻ•āϰāϞāĨ¤

We had to hurry to fix the kite if we wanted to send it up before the wind fell. We rushed into the lighthouse to get some paper. We knew there was no more red paper. We took the first thing that came handy – an old letter lying on the bookcase in the sitting room. We patched the kite up with the letter, a sheet on each side, and dried it by the fire. We started out, and up went the kite like a bird. The wind was glorious, and it soared. All at once – snap! And there was Claude, standing with a bit of cord in his hand, looking foolish. Our kite had sailed away over to the mainland. 

āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āϤāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϟāĻž āĻ āĻŋāĻ• āĻ•āϰāĻžāϰ āϝāĻžāϤ⧇ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏ āĻ•āĻŽā§‡ āϝāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻžāϰ āφāϗ⧇ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϟāĻž āĻ“āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŋāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻĻ⧌āĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻŋāϘāϰ⧇āϰ āĻ­āĻŋāϤāϰ⧇ āϗ⧇āϞāĻžāĻŽ āĻ•āĻžāĻ—āϜ āφāύāϤ⧇āĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϜāĻžāύāϤāĻžāĻŽ āĻ“āĻ–āĻžāύ⧇ āφāϰ āϕ⧋āύāĻžā§‡ āϞāĻžāϞ āĻ•āĻžāĻ—āϜ āύ⧇āχāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻšāĻžāϤ⧇āϰ āĻ•āĻžāϛ⧇ āĻĒā§āϰāĻĨāĻŽ āϝāĻž āĻĒ⧇āϞāĻžāĻŽ āϤāĻžāχ āύāĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽâ€”āĻŦāϏāĻžāϰ āϘāϰ⧇ āĻŦāχāϝāĻŧ⧇āϰ āϤāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āĻĨāĻžāĻ•āĻž āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻĒ⧁āϰāĻžā§‡āύāĻžā§‡ āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋāϟāĻž āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϰ āĻĻ⧁āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻĒā§āϞāĻŋ āϞāĻžāĻ—āĻžāύāĻžā§‡āϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ āĻĻ⧁āĻŸā§‹ āĻ•āĻžāĻ—āϜ āϏāĻžāρāϟāĻžāϞāĻžāĻŽ āφāϰ āφāϗ⧁āύ⧇ āĻļ⧁āĻ•āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āύāĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻļ⧁āϰ⧁ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻĻāĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ, āφāϰ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϟāĻž āĻĒāĻžāĻ–āĻŋāϰ āĻŽāϤāĻžā§‡ āωāĻĒāϰ⧇ āωāϠ⧇ āϗ⧇āϞāĨ¤ āϚāĻŽā§ŽāĻ•āĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏ āĻŦāχāĻ›āĻŋāϞ āφāϰ āĻāϟāĻž āĻ…āύ⧇āĻ• āωāρāϚ⧁āϤ⧇ āĻ­āĻžāϏāĻ›āĻŋāϞ | āĻšāĻ āĻžā§Ž āĻĒāϟāĻžāĻ‚! āφāϰ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āĻ•āĻžāϰ āĻŽāϤāĻžā§‡ āĻāĻ• āϟ⧁āĻ•āϰāĻžā§‡ āϏ⧁āϤāĻžā§‡ āĻšāĻžāϤ⧇ āĻĻāĻžāρāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āφāϰ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϟāĻž āϭ⧇āϏ⧇ āϚāϞ⧇ āϗ⧇āϞ āĻŽā§‚āϞ āĻ­ā§‚āĻ–āĻŖā§āĻĄā§‡āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇āĨ¤

Unit 3 

A month later, a letter came for Father. After he finished reading it, his eyes looked as if he had been crying. ” Do you want to know what became of your kite? ” he said. Then he sat down beside us and told us the whole story. 

āĻāĻ• āĻŽāĻžāϏ āĻŦāĻžāĻĻ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻ•āĻžāϛ⧇ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋ āĻāϞāĨ¤ āϝāĻ–āύ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋāϟāĻž āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āĻļ⧇āώ āĻ•āϰāϞ⧇āύ, āϤāĻžāϰ āĻšā§‹āĻ– āĻĻ⧇āϖ⧇ āĻŽāύ⧇ āĻšāĻšā§āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϝ⧇āύ āĻ•āĻžāĻĻāĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤ “āϤāĻžā§‡āĻŽāϰāĻž āĻ•āĻŋ āϜāĻžāύāϤ⧇ āϚāĻžāĻ“ āϤāĻžā§‡āĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϘāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϰ āϕ⧀ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇āϛ⧇?” āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϜāĻŋāĻœā§āĻžā§‡āϏ āĻ•āϰāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤ āϤāĻ–āύ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĒāĻžāĻļ⧇ āĻŦāϏāϞ⧇āύ āφāϰ āĻĒ⧁āϰāĻžā§‡ āĻ—āĻ˛ā§āĻĒāϟāĻž āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŦāϞāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤

Father had a brother and a sister. He had quarrelled with his brother and left home. Years afterward, he felt sorry and when he went back, he found his brother had died and he couldn’t find his sister. 

āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻāĻ• āĻ­āĻžāχ āφāϰ āĻāĻ• āĻŦāĻžā§‡āύ āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻ­āĻžāχāϝāĻŧ⧇āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻāĻ—āĻĄāĻŧāĻž āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āϛ⧇āĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āϚāϞ⧇ āĻ—āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤ āĻŦāĻšā§āĻŦāĻ›āϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻĻ⧇, āϝāĻ–āύ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻĻ⧁āσāĻ–āĻŋāϤ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻĢāĻŋāϰ⧇ āφāϏ⧇āύ, āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻĻ⧇āϖ⧇āύ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻ­āĻžāχ āφāϗ⧇āχ āĻŽāĻžāϰāĻž āϗ⧇āϛ⧇āύ āφāϰ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āύāϕ⧇āĻ“ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϖ⧁āρāĻœā§‡ āĻĒāĻžāύāύāĻŋāĨ¤

The letter father had just received was from his sister, Aunt Esther, mother of Dick and Mimi. She was a widow who lived hundreds of miles inland. One day when Dick and Mimi were out in the woods, they discovered the kite on the top of a tree and carried it home. When their mother saw the kite patched with the letter, she turned pale. It was the very letter she had once written to her brother. 

Philippa was her mother’s name, and Claude was her father’s. She knew who we must be. So she sat down and wrote to Big Half Moon, and Father received her letter. 

āφāϰ āϝ⧇ āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋāϟāĻŋ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϏāĻŦ⧇ āĻĒ⧇āϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύ āϏ⧇āϟāĻž āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āύ, āĻĄāĻŋāĻ• āφāϰ āĻŽāĻŋāĻŽāĻŋāϰ āĻŽāĻž, āĻāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻŋāϏāĻŋāϰ āϞ⧇āĻ–āĻžāĨ¤ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύ āĻāĻ•āϜāύ āĻŦāĻŋāϧāĻŦāĻž āĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻž āϝāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻļāϤ āĻļāϤ āĻŽāĻžāχāϞ āĻĻā§‚āϰ⧇ āĻŽā§‚āϞ āĻ­ā§‚āĻ–āĻŖā§āĻĄā§‡āϰ āϭ⧇āϤāϰ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāϏ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇āύāĨ¤ āĻāĻ•āĻĻāĻŋāύ āϝāĻ–āύ āĻĄāĻŋāĻ• āφāϰ āĻŽāĻŋāĻŽāĻŋ āĻŦāύ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻ—āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ, āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻāχ āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϟāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻ—āĻžāϛ⧇āϰ āĻ“āĻĒāϰ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āϏ⧇āϟāĻŋāϕ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϤ⧇ āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āφāϏ⧇āĨ¤ āϝāĻ–āύ āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻž āϘ⧁āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϟāĻŋāϰ āĻ—āĻžāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻĒā§āĻĒāĻŋ āϞāĻžāĻ—āĻžāύāĻžā§‡ āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋāϟāĻŋ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāύ, āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻĢā§āϝāĻžāĻ•āĻžāĻļ⧇ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϝāĻžāύāĨ¤ āĻāϟāĻž āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āϏ⧇āχ āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋāϟāĻŋ āϝ⧇āϟāĻž āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻāĻ•āϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻ­āĻžāχāϕ⧇ āϞāĻŋāϖ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤ āĻĢāĻŋāϞāĻŋāĻĒā§āϞāĻž āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽāĻžāϝāĻŧ⧇āϰ āύāĻžāĻŽ āφāϰ āĻ•ā§āϞāĻĄ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻžāϰ āύāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻŦ⧁āĻāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧇āύ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϕ⧇ āĻšāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŋāĨ¤ āϤāĻžāχ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āĻŦāϏ⧇ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ—ā§ āĻšāĻžāĻĢ āĻŽā§āύ⧇ āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋ āϞ⧇āϖ⧇āύ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž āϏ⧇āχ āϚāĻŋāĻ āĻŋāϟāĻŋ āĻĒ⧇āϝāĻŧ⧇āϛ⧇āύāĨ¤

Next day, Father went and brought Aunt Esther and Dick and Mimi with him. They have been here ever since. Aunt Esther is a dear and Dick and Mimi are too jolly for words. 

āĻĒāϰ⧇āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāύ, āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž āĻ—āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻŋāϏāĻŋ, āĻĄāĻŋāĻ• āφāϰ āĻŽāĻŋāĻŽāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āφāϏ⧇āύāĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āĻ“āϰāĻž āĻāĻ–āĻžāύ⧇āχ āĻĨāĻžāϕ⧇ | āĻāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻžāϰ āĻĒāĻŋāϏāĻŋ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋ āφāϰ āĻĄāĻŋāĻ• āφāϰ āĻŽāĻŋāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ•āϤāϟāĻž āĻšāĻžāϏāĻŋāϖ⧁āĻļāĻŋ āϤāĻž āĻ­āĻžāώāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āĻāĻžāύāĻžā§‡ āϝāĻžāĻŦ⧇ āύāĻžāĨ¤

But the best of it all is that we have relations now! 

āφāϰ āϏāĻŦ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āĻĻāĻžāϰ⧁āĻŖ āĻŦā§āϝāĻžāĻĒāĻžāϰ āĻšāϞ āĻāĻ–āύ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰāĻ“ āφāĻ¤ā§āĻŽā§€āϝāĻŧāĻ¸ā§āĻŦāϜāύ āφāϛ⧇āĨ¤

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