f
course, the paper must be of exactly the same weight as the balloon
itself. We soon can accomplish that. See! I tear off a bit more. Top
heavy yet? He rises higher this time, and settles down more slowly to
the floor. Tear again. Whew! I took off too much that time. He rises to
the ceiling, bumping his head against it a few times, and finally
remains there in a sullen manner as if determined he will have no more
of our nonsense.

[Illustration]

I recapture him, and this time I add to the weight of his tail, by
dividing in two the last bit which I tore off, and twisting it around
the string.

Now, then, sir, you may go! See! he rises slowly, slowly, until about
midway between floor and ceiling, where he stops and turns slowly
about, as if making up his mind what to do next.

[Illustration]

Presto! a current of air strikes him, and he begins dodging about in a
frantic manner, as if to escape from some invisible enemy. Presently he
becomes calmer, and proceeds to explore every nook and corner of the
room; now going up close to the clock on the mantel, as if to ascertain
the time of day; now taking a look at himself in the mirror; then,
turning suddenly away (as if in confusion to find you have caught him
at it), he moves toward the window, and pretends to be interested in
what is going on outside; but, a draught of air coming briskly in, he
hastens away as fast as ever he can, as if in fear of taking cold.
Skimming along close to the floor, he reaches the opposite side of the
room, and, slowly rising again, peers into the canary's cage. The
occupant resents the liberty with erect feathers, and our balloon
quickly descends, and takes refuge under the piano. Recovering his
presence of mind, presently he peeps cautiously out, and begins to
ascend again. Here he comes toward us--slowly, majestically! Strike at
him with a fan, and lo! he retreats in great disorder to a remote
corner of the room, dodging about in most eccentric fashion, when,
recovering his self-possession after a time, he goes about examining
the pictures on the wall with the air of a critic. You lie down on
your back, on the comfortable sofa in the corner, watching the balloon
as it sails slowly about, and wondering what it will do next,
until--until you fall asleep!

[Illustration]

You are awakened by something tickling your nose; and, looking up, you
suddenly discover the toy balloon hovering over you, with its tail in
your face, and apparent