4 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, Wendy meets Peter for the first time.

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 3 Come Away,

Come Away For a moment after Mr and Mrs Darling left the house,

The night lights by the bed of the three children continued to burn clearly.

They were awfully nice little night lights,

And one cannot help wishing they could have been kept awake to see Peter.

But Wendy's night light blinked and gave such a yawn that the other two yawned also,

And before they could close their mouths,

All the three went out.

There was another light in the room now,

A thousand times brighter than the night lights,

And in the time we've taken to say this,

It has been in all the drawers in the nursery looking for Peter's shadow,

Rummaging the wardrobe and turning every pocket inside out.

It was not really light,

It made this light by flashing about so quickly,

But when it came to rest for a second,

You could see it was a fairy,

No longer than your hand,

But still growing.

It was a girl called Tinkerbell,

Exquisitely gowned in a skeleton leaf,

Cut low and square,

Through which her figure could be seen to the best advantage.

A moment after the fairy's entrance,

The window was blown open by the breathing of the little stars,

And Peter dropped in.

He had carried Tinkerbell part of the way,

And his hand was still messy with the fairy dust.

Tinkerbell,

He called softly after making sure the children were asleep.

Tink,

Where are you?

She was in a jug for the moment,

And liking it extremely,

She had never been in a jug before.

Do come out of that jug and tell me,

Do you know where they put my shadow?

The loveliest tingle as of golden bells answered him.

It is the fairy language.

You ordinary children can never hear it,

But if you were to hear it,

You would know you had heard it once before.

Tink said the shadow was in the big box.

She meant the chest of drawers,

And Peter jumped at the drawers,

Scattering their contents to the floor with both hands,

As King's toss hapens to the crowd.

In a moment he had recovered his shadow,

And in his delight he forgot he had shut Tinkerbell up in the drawer.

If he thought at all,

But I don't believe he ever thought,

It was that he and his shadow,

When brought near each other,

Would join like drops of water,

And when they did not,

He was appalled.

He tried to stick it on with soap from the bathroom,

But that failed.

A shudder passed through him,

And he sat on the floor and cried.

His sobs woke Wendy,

And she sat up in bed.

She was not alarmed to see a stranger crying on the nursery floor.

She was only pleasantly interested.

Boy,

She said courteously,

Why are you crying?

Peter could be exceedingly polite also,

Having learned the grand manner at fairy ceremonies,

And he rose and bowed to her beautifully.

She was much pleased,

And bowed beautifully to him from the bed.

What's your name?

He asked.

Wendy Moira Angela Darling,

She replied with some satisfaction.

What is your name?

Peter Pan.

She was already sure he must be Peter,

But it did seem a comparatively short name.

Is that all?

Yes,

He said rather sharply.

He felt for the first time that it was a shortish name.

I'm so sorry,

Said Wendy Moira Angela.

It doesn't matter,

Peter gulped.

She asked where he lived.

Second to the right,

Said Peter,

Then straight on till morning.

What a funny address!

Peter had a sinking.

For the first time he felt perhaps it was a funny address.

No,

It isn't,

He said.

I mean,

Wendy said nicely,

Remembering she was hostess.

Is that what they put on the letters?

Peter Pan wished she had not mentioned letters.

Don't get any letters,

He said contemptuously.

But your mother gets letters.

Don't have a mother,

He said.

Not only had he no mother,

But he had not the slightest desire to have one.

He thought them very overrated persons.

Wendy,

However,

Felt at once she was in the presence of a tragedy.

Oh,

Peter,

No wonder you were crying,

She said,

And got out of bed and ran to him.

I wasn't crying about mothers,

He said rather indignantly.

I was crying because I can't get my shadow to stick on.

Besides,

I wasn't crying.

It has come off.

Yes.

Wendy saw the shadow on the floor looking so draggled that she was frightfully sorry for Peter.

How awful,

She said.

But she could not help smiling when she saw he had been trying to stick it on with soap.

How exactly like a boy!

Fortunately,

She knew at once what to do.

It must be sewn on,

She said,

A little patronisingly.

What's sewn?

He asked.

You're dreadfully ignorant.

No,

I'm not.

But Wendy was exulting in his ignorance.

I shall sew it on for you,

My little man,

She said,

Though he was as tall as herself.

And she got out her housewife and sewed the shadow onto Peter's foot.

I dare say it'll hurt a little,

She warned him.

Oh,

I shan't cry,

Said Peter,

Who was already of opinion he had never cried in his life.

And he clenched his teeth and did not cry.

And soon his shadow was behaving properly,

Though still a little creased.

Perhaps I should have ironed it,

Wendy said thoughtfully.

But Peter,

Boy-like,

Was indifferent to appearances,

And he was now jumping about in the wildest glee.

Alas,

He had already forgotten he owed his bliss to Wendy.

He thought he had attached the shadow himself.

How clever I am,

He crowed rapturously.

Oh,

The cleverness of me!

It is humiliating to have to confess this little conceit of Peter was one of his most fascinating qualities.

To put it with brutal frankness,

There never was a cockier boy.

But for the moment Wendy was shocked.

You can see it,

She exclaimed with frightful sarcasm.

Of course I did nothing.

You did a little,

Peter said carelessly,

And continued to dance.

A little,

Wendy replied with hauteur.

If I'm no use,

I can at least withdraw.

And she sprang in the most dignified way into bed and covered her face with the blankets.

To induce her to look up,

Peter pretended to be going away.

And when this failed,

He sat on the end of the bed and tapped her gently with his foot.

Wendy,

He said,

Don't withdraw.

I can't help crowing,

Wendy,

When I'm pleased with myself.

Still she would not look up,

Though she was listening eagerly.

Wendy,

He continued in a voice that no woman has ever yet been able to resist.

Wendy,

One girl is more use than twenty boys.

Now Wendy was every inch a woman,

Though there were not very many inches,

And she peeped out of the bedclothes.

Do you really think so,

Peter?

Yes,

I do.

I think it's perfectly sweet of you,

She declared,

And I'll get up again.

Then she sat with him on the side of the bed.

She also said she would give him a kiss if he liked,

But Peter did not know what she meant and he held out his hand expectantly.

Surely you know what a kiss is,

She gasped.

I shall know when you give it to me,

He replied stiffly,

And not to hurt his feeling,

She gave him a thimble.

Now,

Said he,

Shall I give you a kiss?

And she replied with a slight primness.

If you please.

She made herself rather cheap by inclining her face toward him,

But he merely dropped an acorn button into her hand,

So she slowly returned her face to where it had been before,

And said nicely she would wear his kiss on the chain around her neck.

It was lucky she did put it on that chain,

For it was afterwards to save her life.

When people in our set are introduced,

It's customary for them to ask each other's age,

And so Wendy,

Who always liked to do the correct thing,

Asked Peter how old he was.

It was not really a happy question to ask,

It was like an examination paper that asks grammar,

When what you want to be asked is kings of England.

I don't know,

He replied uneasily,

But I am quite young.

He really knew nothing about it,

He had merely suspicions,

But he said at a venture,

Wendy,

I ran away the day I was born.

Wendy was quite surprised,

But interested,

And she indicated in the charming drawing room manner,

By a touch on her nightgown,

That he could sit nearer her.

It was because I heard father and mother,

He explained in a low voice,

Talking about what I was to be when I became a man.

He was extraordinarily agitated now.

I don't ever want to be a man,

He said with passion,

I want to always be a little boy and to have fun,

So I ran away to Kensington Gardens and lived a long long time among the fairies.

Wendy gave him a look of the most intense admiration,

And he thought it was because he had run away,

But it was really because he knew fairies.

Wendy had lived such a home life,

That to know fairies struck her as quite delightful.

She poured out questions about them,

To his surprise,

But they were rather a nuisance to him,

Getting in his way and so on,

And indeed he sometimes had to give them a hiding.

Still he liked them on the whole,

And he told her about the beginnings of fairies.

You see,

Wendy,

When the first baby laughed for the first time,

Its laugh broke into a thousand pieces,

And they all went skipping about,

And that was the beginning of fairies.

Tedious talk was this,

But being a stay-at-home girl,

Wendy rather liked it.

And so,

Peter went on good-naturedly,

There ought to be one fairy for every boy and girl.

Ought to be?

Isn't there?

No,

You see,

Children know such a lot now,

They soon don't believe in fairies,

And every time a child says,

I don't believe in fairies,

There's a fairy somewhere that falls down dead.

At this point,

Peter thought they had talked enough about fairies,

And it struck him that Tinkerbell was keeping very quiet.

I can't think where she's got to,

He said,

Rising.

He called Tink by her name.

Wendy's heart went flutter with a sudden thrill.

Peter,

She cried clutching him,

You don't need to tell me there's a fairy in this room.

She was here just now,

He said a little impatiently,

You don't hear her,

Do you?

And they both listened very carefully,

To see if they could hear Tinkerbell in the drawer.