Our Runaway Kite

"Our Runaway Kite" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a charming children's story that captures the joy and innocence of childhood. It follows the adventures of a young boy and his friends as they fly a vibrant kite on a sunny day. When their kite gets caught in a gust of wind and takes off on its own, the children embark on a whimsical journey to retrieve it. Through their adventure, they learn about perseverance, friendship, and the beauty of nature. Montgomery's lyrical writing and vivid imagery create an enchanting tale that resonates with readers of all ages.

• Short story

								
Of course there was nobody for us to play with on the Big Half Moon,
but then, as Claude says, you can't have everything. We just had to
make the most of each other, and we did.

The Big Half Moon is miles from anywhere, except the Little Half Moon.
But nobody lives there, so that doesn't count.

We live on the Big Half Moon. "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.

Father is the keeper of the Big Half Moon lighthouse. He has always
been the keeper ever since I can remember, although that isn't very
long. I am only eleven years old. Claude is twelve.

In winter, when the harbour is frozen over, there isn't any need of a
light on the Big Half Moon, and we all move over to the mainland, and
Claude and Mimi and Dick and I go to school. But as soon as spring
comes, back we sail to our own dear island, so glad that we don't know
what to do with ourselves.

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, and not even a woman to look after us.

Why, Claude and I were never lonesome. There was always so much to do,
and Claude is splendid at making believe. He makes the very best
pirate chief I ever saw. Dick is pretty good, but he can never roar
out his orders in the bloodcurdling tones that Claude can.

Of course Claude and I would have liked to have someone to play with
us, because 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 perhaps it was just as well that there were
none of them on the Big Half Moon. Claude and I never quarrelled. We
used to argue sometimes and get excited, but that was as far as it
ever went. When I saw Claude getting too excited I gave in to him. He
is a boy, you know, and they have to be humoured; they are not like
girls.

As for having a woman to look after us, I thought that just too silly,
and so did Claude. What did we need with a woman when we had Father?
He could cook all we wanted to eat and make molasses taffy that was
just like a dream. He kept our clothes all mended, and everything
about the lighthouse was neat as wax. Of course I helped him lots. I
like pottering round.

He used to hear our lessons and tell us splendid stories and saw that
we always said our prayers. Claude and I wouldn't have done anything
to make him feel bad for the world. Father is just lovely.

To be sure, he 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 all of a sudden that we
wished we hadn't. He said it was all his fault. I didn't see how that
could be, but I never said anything more about it to Father. Still, I
did wish we had some relations.

It is always lovely out here on the Big Half Moon in summer. When it
is fine the harbour is blue and calm, with little winds and ripples
purring over it, and the mainland shores look like long blue lands
where fairies dwell. Away out over the bar, where the big ships go, it
is always hazy and pearl-tinted, like the inside of the mussel shells.
Claude says he is going to sail out there when he grows up. I would
like to too, but Claude says I can't because I'm a girl. It is
dreadfully inconvenient to be a girl at times.

When it storms it is grand to see the great waves come crashing up
against the Big Half Moon as if they meant to swallow it right down.
You can't see the Little Half Moon at all then; it is hidden by the
mist and spume.

We had our pirate cave away up among the rocks, where we kept an old
pistol with the lock broken, a rusty cutlass, a pair of knee boots,
and Claude's jute beard and wig. Down on the shore, around one of the
horns of the Half Moon, was the Mermaid's Pool, where we sailed our
toy boats and watched for sea kelpies. We never saw any. Dick says
there is no such thing as a kelpy. But then Dick has no imagination.
It is no argument against a thing that you've never seen it. I have
never seen the pyramids, either, but I know that there are pyramids.

Every summer we had some hobby. The last summer before Dick and Mimi
came we were crazy about kites. A winter boy on the mainland showed
Claude how to make them, and when we went back to the Big Half Moon we
made kites galore. Even pirating wasn't such good fun. Claude would go
around to the other side of the Big Half Moon and we would play
shipwrecked mariners signalling to each other with kites. Oh, it was
very exciting.

We had one kite that was a dandy. It was as big as we could make it
and covered with lovely red paper; we had pasted gold tinsel stars all
over it and written our names out in full on it--Claude Martin Leete
and Philippa Brewster Leete, Big Half Moon Lighthouse. That kite had
the most magnificent tail, too.

It used to scare the gulls nearly to death when we sent up our kites.
They didn't know what to make of them. And the Big Half Moon is such a
place for gulls--there are hundreds of them here.

One day there was a grand wind for kite-flying, and Claude and I were
having a splendid time. We used our smaller kites for signalling, and
when we got tired of that Claude sent me to the house for the big
one. I'm sure I don't know how it happened, but when I was coming back
over the rocks I tripped and fell, and my elbow went clear through
that lovely kite. You would never have believed that one small elbow
could make such a big hole. Claude said it was just like a girl to
fall and stick her elbow through a kite, but I don't see why it should
be any more like a girl than a boy. Do you?

We had to hurry to fix the kite if we wanted to send it up before the
wind fell, so we rushed into the lighthouse to get some paper. We knew
there was no more red paper, and the looks of the kite were spoiled,
anyhow, so we just took the first thing that came handy--an old letter
that was lying on the bookcase in the sitting-room. I suppose we
shouldn't have taken it, although, as matters turned out, it was the
best thing we could have done; but Father was away to the mainland to
buy things, and we never thought it could make any difference about an
old yellow letter. It was one Father had taken from a drawer in the
bookcase which he had cleaned out the night before. We patched the
kite up with the letter, a sheet on each side, and dried it by the
fire. Then we started out, and up went the kite like a bird. The wind
was glorious, and it soared and strained like something alive. All at
once--snap! And there was Claude, standing with a bit of cord in his
hand, looking as foolish as a flatfish, and our kite sailing along at

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