Anonymous, The Story of the White-Rock Cove
“ I had taken up the kite in my hand, but I threw it aside again the moment George turned his back upon me, and sitting down upon the stones near the water's edge, with Frisk's fore-paws stretched across my lap, looked gloomily at the water and at Aleck's new boat. Evil feelings grew stronger and stronger within me as I looked. Though fascinated so that I could not take my eyes off it, I hated the very sight of the pretty little schooner, and wished heartily that George had never made it. ”
