peared quite attractive.

Tommy, for example, wanted to put tooth powder into tablets that one
would chew before brushing the teeth. He thought there should be two
colors in the same bottle--orange for morning and blue for night, the
blue ones designed to leave the mouth alkaline at bed time.

Pete wanted to make a combination nail and wood screw. You'd drive it in
with a hammer up to the threaded part, then send it home with a few
turns of a screwdriver.

Hilary, reluctantly forsaking his ideas on detergents, suggested we make
black plastic discs, like poker chips but thinner and as cheap as
possible, to scatter on a snowy sidewalk where they would pick up extra
heat from the sun and melt the snow more rapidly. Afterward one would
sweep up and collect the discs.

Doris added to this that if you could make the discs light enough to
float, they might be colored white and spread on the surface of a
reservoir to reduce evaporation.

These latter ideas had made unknowing use of some basic physics, and I'm
afraid I relapsed for a few minutes into the role of teacher and told
them a little bit about the laws of radiation and absorption of heat.

"My," said Marjorie, "they're really smart boys and girls. Tommy Miller
does sound like a born salesman. Somehow I don't think you're going to
have to call in Mr. Wells."

I do feel just a little embarrassed about the kite, even now. The fact
that it flew surprised me. That it flew so confoundedly well was
humiliating. Four of them were at the barn when I arrived next morning;
or rather on the rise of ground just beyond it, and the kite hung
motionless and almost out of sight in the pale sky. I stood and watched
for a moment, then they saw me.

"Hello, Mr. Henderson," Mary said, and proffered the cord which was
wound on a fishing reel. I played the kite up and down for a few
minutes, then reeled it in. It was, almost exactly, a wind sock, but the
hole at the small end was shaped--by wire--into the general form of a
kidney bean. It was beautifully made, and had a sort of professional
look about it.

"It flies too well," Mary told Doris. "A kite ought to get caught in a
tree sometimes."

"You're right," Doris agreed. "Let's see it." She gave the wire at the
small end the slightest of twists. "There, it ought to swoop."

Sure enough, in the moderate breeze of that morning, the kite swooped
and yawed to Mary's entire satisfaction. As we trailed back to the barn
I asked Doris