20 Peter Pan - Read By Stephanie Poppins

Peter Pan, written by J.M. Barrie, is a classic children's novel first published in the early 20th century. The story revolves around the beloved character Peter Pan and follows his adventures in the fantastical Neverland, along with a young girl named Wendy Darling and her brothers, John and Michael.

In this episode, Peter Pan and Hook battle it out.

This story is adapted for radio by Stephanie Poppins at Neworld Books.

Transcript

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to podcast that offers you a calm and relaxing transition into a great night's sleep.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you and let all the worries of the day drift away.

This is your time and your space.

Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Happy listening.

Chapter 15 Hook or me this time Odd things happen to all of us on our way through life without our noticing for a time they have happened.

Thus,

To take an instance,

We suddenly discover we have been deaf in one ear for we don't know how long,

But say half an hour.

Now such an experience had come that night to Peter.

When last we saw him he was stealing across the island with one finger to his lips and his dagger at the ready.

He had seen the crocodile pass by without noticing anything peculiar,

But by and by he remembered it had not been ticking.

At first he thought this eerie,

But soon concluded rightly the clock had run down.

Without giving a thought to what might be the feelings of a fellow creature thus abruptly deprived of its closest companion,

Peter at once considered how he could turn the catastrophe to his own use.

And he decided to tick so that wild beasts should believe he was the crocodile and let him pass unmolested.

He ticked superbly,

But with one unforeseen result.

The crocodile was among those who heard the sound and it followed him,

Though whether with the purpose of regaining what it had lost,

Or merely as a friend under the belief it was again ticking itself,

Will never be certainly known,

For like slaves to a fixed idea it was a stupid beast.

Peter reached the shore without mishap and went straight on,

His legs encountering the water as if quite unaware they had entered a new element.

Thus many animals pass from land to water,

But no other human of whom I know.

As he swam he had but one thought,

Hook or me this time.

He had ticked so long that he now went on ticking without knowing he was doing it.

Had he known he would have stopped,

For to board the brig by the help of the tick,

Though an ingenious idea,

Had not occurred to him.

On the contrary,

He thought he had scaled her side as noiseless as a mouse and he was amazed to see the pirates cowering from him with hook in their midst as abject as if he had hurt the crocodile.

It was at this moment that Ed,

The quartermaster,

Emerged from the forecastle and came to the deck.

Now,

Reader,

Time what happened by your watch.

Peter struck true and deep.

John clapped his hands on the ill-fated pirate's mouth to stifle the dying groan.

He fell forward.

Four boys caught him to prevent the thud.

Peter gave a signal and the carrion was cast overboard.

There was a splash,

Then silence.

None too soon,

Peter,

Every inch of him on tiptoe,

Vanished into the cabin for more than one pirate was screwing up his courage to look around.

They could hear each other's distressed breathing now,

Which showed them the more terrible sound had passed.

It's gone,

Captain,

Smee said,

Wiping his spectacles,

All still again.

Slowly,

Hook,

Let his head emerge from his rough and listen so intently he could have caught the echo of the tick.

There was not a sound.

Then here's to jolly plank,

He cried brazenly,

Hating the boys more than ever because they'd seen him unbend.

To terrorise the prisoners the more,

Though with a certain loss of dignity,

He danced along an imaginary plank,

Grimacing at them as he sang.

Do you want a touch of the cat before you walk the plank?

They fell on their knees.

No,

They cried so piteously,

Every pirate smiled.

Fetch the cat,

Jukes,

Said hook.

It's in the cabin.

The cabin!

Peter was in the cabin.

The children gazed at each other.

Aye,

Aye,

Said Jukes blithely,

And he strode into the cabin.

They followed him with their eyes.

What was the last line will never be known,

For of a sudden the song was stayed by a dreadful screech from the cabin.

It wailed for the ship then died away.

Then was heard a crowing sound,

Which was well understood by the boys,

But to the pirates was almost more eerie than the screech.

What was that?

Cried hook.

It's Bill Jukes.

The matter with him is he's dead,

Stabbed,

A voice replied.

Bill Jukes,

Dead?

Cried the startled pirates.

The captain's as black as a pit,

But there's something terrible in there,

That thing you heard crowing.

Go back and fetch me out that doodle-doo,

Said hook.

This is mutiny,

Said hook,

And he sped into the cabin himself,

Before staggering out a little unsteadily.

Something blew out the light,

He said.

Meanwhile,

In the cabin,

Peter had found a thing for which he had gone into search,

The key that would free the children of their manacles.

And now they all stole forth,

Armed with such weapons as they could find.

First signing them to hide,

Peter cut went his bonds,

Then nothing could have been easier than them for all to fly off together.

But one thing barred the way.

Hook or me this time,

He said to himself.

So when he'd freed Wendy,

He whispered to her to conceal herself with the others.

Then he took a great breath and crowed.

To the pirates it was a voice crying that all the boys lay slain in the cabin.

They were panic-stricken.

Hook tried to harden them,

But like the dogs he'd made them,

They showed him their fangs and he knew if he took his eyes off them now they would leap at him.

Lads,

He said,

Ready to cajole or strike as need be.

I thought it out.

There must be a Jonah aboard.

Fling that girl overboard,

He cried,

And they made a rush at the figure in the cloak.

There's no one that can save you now,

Missy.

But there is one,

Replied Wendy.

Peter Pan the Avenger,

Came the terrible answer,

And as he spoke,

Peter flung off his cloak.

Then they all knew they were done for.

Down,

Boys,

And at them,

Peter cried,

And in another moment the clash of arms was resounding through the ship.

Had the pirates kept it together,

It's certain they would have won.

But the onset came when they ran hither and thither,

Striking wildly,

Each thinking himself the last survivor of the crew.

Man to the man,

They were stronger,

But they fought on the defensive only,

Which enabled the boys to hunt in pairs and choose their quarry.

Some of the miscreants leapt into the sea,

Others hid in dark recesses where they were found by Slightly,

Who did not fight,

But ran about with a lantern which he flashed in their faces,

So that they were half blinded and fell an easy prey to the reeking swords of the other boys.

There was little sound to be heard but the clang of weapons.

I think all were gone when a group of savage boys surrounded Hook,

Who seemed to have a charmed life as he kept them at bay in a circle of fire.

This man alone seemed to be a match for them all.

He lifted up one boy with his hook and was using him as a buckler when another,

Who'd just passed his sword through mulling,

Sprang into the fray.

But suddenly a newcomer's voice said,

Put up your swords,

Boys!

And Hook found himself face to face with Peter.

For long the two enemies looked at each other,

Hook shuddering slightly and Peter with a strange smile upon his face.

So pan,

Said Hook at last,

This is all you're doing.

Aye,

James Hook,

Came the stern answer,

It's all my doing.

Proud and insolent youth,

Said Hook,

Prepare to meet thy doom.

Dark and sinister man,

Peter answered,

Have at thee.

Without more words they fell to,

And for a space there was no advantage to either blade.

Peter was a superb swordsman,

But his shorter reach stood him in ill stead and he could not drive the steel home.

Hook,

Scarcely his inferior in brilliancy,

But not quite so nimble in wrist play,

Forced him back by the weight of his onset,

Hoping suddenly to endure with a favourite thrust.

But to his astonishment he found his thrust turned side again and again.

Then he sought to close and give the quietus with his iron hook,

Which all this time had been pouring the air,

But Peter doubled under it and lunging fiercely pierced him in the ribs.

At the sight of his own blood,

Whose peculiar colour you remember was offensive to him,

The sword fell from Hook's hand and he was at Peter's mercy.

Now,

Cried all the boys,

But with a magnificent gesture,

Peter invited his opponent to pick up his sword.

Hook did so instantly,

But with a tragic feeling that Peter was showing good form.

Hitherto he had thought it was some fiend fighting him,

But dark suspicions assailed him now.

Pan,

Who and what are thou?

He cried huskily.

I'm youth,

I'm joy,

Peter answered at adventure.

I'm a little bird that's broken out of the egg.

This of course was nonsense,

But it was proof to the unhappy Hook that Peter did not know in the least who or what he was,

Which is the very pinnacle of good form.

He fought now like a human flail,

And every sweep of that terrible sword would have severed in twain any man or boy who obstructed it,

But Peter fluttered round him as if the very wind it made blew him out of the danger zone,

And again and again he darted in and pricked.

Hook was fighting without hope,

That passionate breast no longer asked for life,

But for one more boon it craved,

To see Peter show bad form before it was cold forever.

Abandoning the fight,

He rushed into the powder magazine and fired it.

In two minutes,

He cried,

The ship will be blown to pieces.

Now he thought true form will show,

But Peter issued from the powder magazine with a shell in his hands and calmly flung it overboard.

The other boys were flying round Hook now,

Flouting,

Scornful,

And as he staggered about the deck striking up at them impotently,

His mind was no longer with them.

It was slouching in the playing fields of long ago,

Or being sent up for good,

Or watching the wall gain from a famous wall.

And his shoes were right,

And his waistcoat was right,

And his tie was right,

And his socks were right.

James Hook,

Thou not holy unheroic figure,

Farewell,

For we have come to his last moment.

Seeing Peter slowly advancing upon him through the air with a dagger poised,

Cast himself into the sea.

He did not know the crocodile was waiting for him,

For we purposely stopped the clock,

A little mark of respect from us at the end.

Hook had one last triumph,

Which I think we need not grudge him.

As he stood looking over his shoulder at Peter gliding through the air,

He invited him with a gesture to use his foot.

It made Peter kick instead of stab.

At last Hook got the boon for which he craved.

Bad form,

He cried jeerily,

And went content to the crocodile.

Thus perished James Hook.