Complete Audiobook - Peter Pan In The Rain

Peter Pan is a fictional character created by J.M. Barrie as a mischievous boy who can fly and refuses to grow up, living in the magical Neverland. He leads the Lost Boys, battles Captain Hook, and visits the real world, famously taking Wendy Darling and her brothers to his home. Over nine hours .
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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 by J. M. Barry, Read by Stephanie Poppins. All children, Except one, Grow up. They soon know they will grow up and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful for Mrs Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, Oh why can't you remain like this forever? This was all that passed between them on the subject but henceforth Wendy knew she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end. Of course they lived at fourteen and until Wendy came her mother was the chief one. She was a lovely lady with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, One within the other, That come from the puzzling east. However many you discover there is always one more. And her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, Though there it was perfectly conspicuous in the right hand corner. The way Mr Darling won her was this. The many gentlemen who had been boys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr Darling who took a cab and nipped in first so he got her. He never knew about the box and in time he gave up trying for the kiss. Wendy thought Napoleon could have got it but I can picture him trying and then going off in a passion, Slamming the door. Mr Darling used to boast to Wendy that her mother not only loved him but respected him. He was one of those deep ones who know about stocks and shares. Of course no one really knows but he seemed to know and often he said stocks were up and shares were down in a way that would have made any woman respect him. Mrs Darling was married in white and at first she kept the books perfectly, Almost gleefully as if it were a game. Not so much as a brussel sprout was missing but by and by whole cauliflowers dropped out and instead of them there were pictures of babies without faces. She drew them when she should have been totting up. They were Mrs Darling's guesses. Wendy came first, Then John, Then Michael. For a week or two after Wendy came it was doubtful whether they would be able to keep her as she was another mouth to feed. Mr Darling was frightfully proud of her but he was very honourable and he sat on the edge of Mrs Darling's bed holding her hand and calculating expenses while she looked at him imploringly. She wanted to risk it, Come what might, But that was not his way. His way was with a pencil and a piece of paper and if she confused him with suggestions he had to begin at the beginning again. Now don't interrupt, He would beg of her. I have one pound seventeen here and two and six at the office. I can cut off my coffee, Say ten shillings making two nine and six, With your eighteen and three that makes three nine seven, With five nought and nought in my cheque book makes eight nine seven, Who is that moving, Eight nine seven dot and carry seven, Don't speak my own, And the pound you lent to that man who came to the door, Quiet child, Dot and carry child, There you've done it. Did I say nine seven nine? Yes, I said nine nine seven. The question is can we try it for a year on nine nine seven? Of course we can George, Mrs Darling cried, But she was prejudiced in Wendy's favour and he was really the grander character of the two. Remember mumps, He warned her most threateningly and off he went again. Mumps one pound, That's what I have to put down, But I dare say it'll be more like thirty shillings, Don't speak, Measles one five, German measles half a guinea makes two fifteen six, Don't waggle your finger, Whooping cough, Say fifteen shillings, And on it went and it added up differently each time, But at last Wendy just got through with mumps reduced to twelve six and the two kind of measles treated as one. There was the same excitement over John and Michael had even a narrower squeak, But both were kept and soon you might have seen the three of them going in a row to Miss Folsom's kindergarten school accompanied by their nurse. Mrs Darling loved to have everything just so and Mr Darling had a passion for being exactly like his neighbours, So of course they had a nurse. As they were poor, Owing to the amount of milk the children drank, This nurse was a prim newfoundland dog called Nana who had belonged to no one in particular until the Darlings engaged her. She had always thought children important however and the Darlings had become acquainted with her in Kensington Gardens where she spent most of her spare time peeping into perambulators and was much hated by careless nursemaids whom she followed to their homes and complained of to their mistresses. She proved to be quite a treasure of a nurse, How thorough she was at bath time and up at any moment of the night if one of her charges made the slightest cry. Of course her kennel was in the nursery. She had a genius for knowing when a cough is a thing to have no patience with and when it needs stocking round your throat. She believed to her last day in old-fashioned remedies like rhubarb leaf and she made sounds of contempt over all this newfangled talk about germs and so on. It was a lesson in propriety to see her escorting the children to school, Walking sedately by their side when they were well behaved and butting them back into line if they strayed. On John's soccer day she never once forgot his sweater and she usually carried an umbrella in her mouth in case of rain. There is a room in the basement of Miss Folsom's school where the nurses wait. They sat on forms while Nana lay on the floor but that was the only difference. He affected to ignore her as of an inferior social status to themselves and she despised their light talk. She resented visits to the nursery for Mrs Darling's friends but if they did come in she first whipped off Michael's pinafore and put him into the one with blue braiding and smoothed out Wendy and made a dash at John's hair. No nursery could possibly have been conducted more correctly and Mr Darling knew it. Yet he sometimes wondered uneasily whether the neighbours talked. Mrs Darlington first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children's minds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for the next morning repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake, But of course you couldn't, You would see your own mother doing this and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees I expect lingering humorously over some of your contents wondering where on earth you'd picked this thing up making discovery sweet and not so sweet pressing this to her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and on the top beautifully aired are spread out your prettier thoughts ready for you to put on. I don't know whether you've ever seen a map of a person's mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you and your own map can become intensely interesting but catch them trying to draw a map of a child's mind which is not only confused but keeps going round all the time. There are zigzag lines on it just like your temperature on a card and these are probably roads in the island but the Neverland is always more or less an island with astonishing splashes of colour here and there and coral reefs and rakish looking craft in the offing and savages and lonely lairs and gnomes who are mostly tailors and caves through which a river runs and princes with six elder brothers and a hut fast going to decay and one very small old lady with a hooked nose. It would be an easy map if that were all but there is also first day at school, Religion, Fathers, The round pond, Needlework, Murders, Hangings, Verbs that take the dative, Chocolate pudding day, Getting into braces, Say 99, Three pence for pulling out your tooth yourself and so on and either these are part of the island or they are another map showing through and it is all rather confusing especially as nothing will stand still. Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's for instance had a lagoon with flamingos flying over it at which John was shooting while Michael who was still very small had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends. Michael had friends at night. Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents but on the whole the Neverlands have a family resemblance and if they stood in a row you could say of them they have each other's nose and so forth. Upon these magic shores children at play are forever beaching their coracles. We too have been there. We can still hear the sound of the surf though we shall land no more. Of all delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and the most compact. Not large and sprawling you know with tedious distance between one adventure and another but nicely crammed. When you play at it by day with the chairs and tablecloth it's not in the least alarming but in the two minutes before you go to sleep it becomes very nearly real. That is why there are night lights. Occasionally in her travels through her children's minds Mrs Darling found things she could not understand and of these quite the most perplexing was the word Peter. She knew of no Peter and yet he was here and there in John and Michael's minds while Wendy's began to be scrawled all over with him. The name stood out in bolder letters than any other and as Mrs Darling gazed she felt that it had an oddly cocky appearance. Yes he is rather cocky Wendy admitted with regret. Her mother had been questioning her. But who is he my pet? He's Peter Pan you know mother. At first Mrs Darling did not know but after thinking back into her childhood she just remembered a Peter Pan who was said to live with the fairies. There were odd stories about him as that when children died he went part of the way with them so they should not be frightened. She had believed in him at the time but now she was married and full of sense she quite doubted whether there was any such person. Besides she said to Wendy he will be grown up by this time. Oh no he isn't grown up Wendy assured her confidently he's just my size. Wendy meant he was her size in both mind and body but she didn't know how she knew it she just knew it. Mrs Darling consulted Mr Darling but he smiled pooh-pooh. Mark my words he said it's some nonsense Nana's been putting into their heads. Just the sort of idea a dog would have leave it alone and it will blow over. But it would not blow over. Soon the troublesome boy gave Mrs Darling quite a shock. Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them. For instance they may remember to mention a week after the event happened that when they were in the wood they met their dead father and had a game with him. It was in this casual way that Wendy one morning made a disquieting revelation. Some leaves of a tree had been found on the nursery floor which certainly were not there when the children went to bed and Mrs Darling was puzzling over them when Wendy said with a tolerant smile I do believe it's that Peter again. Whatever do you mean Wendy? So naughty of him not to wipe Wendy said sighing. Wendy was a very tidy child. She explained in quite a matter-of-fact way she thought Peter sometimes came to the nursery in the night and sat on the foot of her bed and played on his pipes to her. Unfortunately she never woke so she didn't know how she knew she just knew. What nonsense you talk precious no one can get into the house without knocking said her mother. I think he comes in by the window she said. My love it's three floors up. Were not the leaves at the foot of the window mother? It was quite true the leaves had been found very near the window. Mrs Darling did not know what to think for it all seemed so natural to Wendy that you could not dismiss it by saying she'd been dreaming. My child the mother cried why did you not tell me of this before? I forgot said Wendy lightly. She was in a hurry to get to her breakfast. Surely she must have been dreaming. But on the other hand there were the leaves. Mrs Darling examined them carefully. They were skeleton leaves but she was sure they did not come from any tree that grew in England. She crawled about the floor peering at it with a candle for marks of a strange foot. She rattled the poker up the chimney and tapped the walls. She let down a tape from the window to the pavement and it was a sheer drop of 30 feet without so much as a spout to climb up by. Certainly Wendy had been dreaming. But Wendy had not been dreaming as the very next night showed. The night on which the extraordinary adventures of these children may be said to have begun. Mrs Darling and all the children were asleep. While Mrs Darling slept she had a dream. She dreamt that the Neverland had come too near and a strange boy had broken through from it. He did not alarm her for she thought she'd seen him before in the faces of many women who have no children. Perhaps he is to be found in the faces of some mothers also. But in her dream he had rent the film that obscures the Neverland and she saw Michael. Wendy and John peeping through the gap. The dream by itself would have been a trifle but while Mrs Darling was dreaming the window of the nursery blew open and an actual boy did drop onto the floor. He was accompanied by a strange light no bigger than your fist which darted about the room like a living thing. I think it must have been this light that wakened Mrs Darling. She started up with a cry and saw the boy and somehow knew at once that he was Peter Pan. If you or I or Wendy had been there we should have seen he was very like Mrs Darling's kiss. He was a lovely boy clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that ooze out of trees. But the most entrancing thing about him was that he had all his first teeth. When he saw she was a grown-up he gnashed the little pearls at her. Mrs Darling screamed and as if in answer to a bell the door opened and Nana entered returning from her evening out. She growled and sprang at the boy who leapt lightly through the window and again Mrs Darling screamed. This time in distress for him for she thought he was killed. She ran down into the street to look for his little body but it was not there. She looked up and in the black night she could see nothing but what she thought was a shooting star. She returned to the nursery and found Nana with something in her mouth which proved to be the boy's shadow. As he leapt at the window Nana closed it quickly but too late to catch him. His shadow had not time to get out though and slam went the window and snapped it off. You may be sure Mrs Darling examined the shadow carefully but it was quite the ordinary kind. Nana had no doubt of what was the best thing to do. She hung it out of the window. He's sure to come back for it. Let us put it where we can get it easily without disturbing the children she said. But unfortunately Mrs Darling could not leave it hanging out of the window. It looked so like the washing and it lowered the whole tone of the house. She had thought of showing it to Mr Darling but he was totting up winter grape coats for John and Michael with a wet towel around his head to keep his brain clear. It seemed a shame to trouble him she thought. Besides she knew exactly what he would say. It all comes of having a dog for a nurse. She decided to roll the shadow up and put it away carefully in a drawer until a fitting opportunity came for telling her husband. The opportunity came a week later on that never to be forgotten Friday. Of course it was a Friday. I ought to have been specially careful on a Friday she used to say afterwards to her husband while perhaps Nana was on the other side of her holding her hand. No, No, Mr Darling said I'm responsible for it all. I, George Darling, Did it. They thus sat night after night recording the fatal Friday till every detail was stamped on their brains and came through on the other side like the faces on a bad coinage. If only I'd not accepted that invitation to dine at 27 Mrs Darling said. If only I'd not poured my medicine into Nana's bowl said Mr Darling. If only I'd pretended to like the medicine was what Nana's wet eye said. They always sat there in the empty nursery recalling fondly every smallest detail of that dreadful evening. It had begun so uneventfully so precisely like a hundred other evenings with Nana putting on the water for Michael's bath and carrying him to it on her back. I won't go to bed shouted Michael. I won't, I won't. It isn't six o'clock yet Nana. I shan't love you anymore Nana. I tell you I won't be bathed. I won't. Then Mrs Darling had come in wearing her white evening gown. She had dressed early because Wendy so loved to see her in her evening gown with a necklace George had given her. She was wearing Wendy's bracelet on her arm. She had asked for the loan of it. Wendy so loved to lend her bracelet to her mother. She had found two older children playing at being herself and father on the occasion of Wendy's birth. And John was saying I am happy to inform you Mrs Darling you are now a mother. In such a tone as Mr Darling himself might have used on the real occasion. Wendy then danced with joy just as the real Mrs Darling must have done. And at that point John was born with the extra pomp that he can see due to the birth of a male. And Michael came from his bath to ask to be born also but John said brutally they did not want anymore. At that point Michael nearly cried. Nobody ever wants me he said. And then of course the lady in the evening dress could not stand that. I do she said. I so want a third child. Boy or girl asked Michael not too hopefully. Boy. Then he leapt into his mother's arms. Such a little thing for Mr and Mrs Darling and Nana to recall now. But not so little if that was to be Michael's last night in the nursery. It was then I rushed in like a tornado wasn't it? Mr Darling would say. Perhaps there was some excuse for him. He too had been dressing for the party and all had gone well until he came to his tie. It's an astounding thing to have to tell. But this man though he knew all about stocks and shares had no real mastery of his tie. The tie will not tie he said. Now becoming dangerously sarcastic. Not round my neck, Round the bedpost. Oh yes twenty times I've made it round the bedpost but round my neck no. He thought Mrs Darling was not sufficiently impressed and he went on. I warn you of this mother that unless this ties round my neck. We don't go out to dinner tonight. And even if I don't go out to dinner tonight I never go to the office again. If I don't go to the office again you and I will starve and our children will be flung out onto the streets. Let me try dear said Mrs Darling. Indeed that was what he had come to ask her to do. And with her nice cool hands she tied his tie for him. How wildly we romped in those days said Mrs Darling recalling it. Our last romp Mr Darling groaned. George do you remember Michael suddenly said to me. How did you get to know me mother? I remember dear. They were rather sweet don't you think George? And they were ours. And now they are gone. The romp around the room with Michael on his shoulders ended with the appearance of Nana. And most unluckily Mr Darling collided against her covering his trousers with hairs. They were not only new trousers but they were the first he'd ever had with braid on them. Nana is a treasure George said Mrs Darling brushing him down. And as they went to leave for the party a nameless fear clutched at her heart and made her cry. Oh how I wish I wasn't going to a party tonight. Michael now already half asleep knew she was perturbed and asked can anything harm us mother after the night lights are lit and we go to bed. Nothing precious she said. They are the eyes a mother leaves behind her to guard her children. Then she went from bed to bed singing enchantments over them and little Michael flung his arms around her. I'm glad of you mother he cried. Those were the last words she was to hear from him for a very long time. 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 see this it has been in all the drawers in the nursery looking for Peter's shadow. Damaging 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 tinkle 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. He 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 off, 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 groaned 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 conceit, 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 could 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, And 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 with that. 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. Peter Pan let poor Tinkerbell out of the drawer, And she flew about the nursery screaming and ringing her little bells. You shouldn't say such things, Peter retorted, Of course I'm very sorry, But how could I know you were in the drawer? Wendy was not listening. If only she would stand still and let me see her, She cried. They hardly ever stand still, Said Peter. But for one moment, Wendy saw the romantic figure come to rest on the cuckoo clock. Aren't you lovely, She cried, Although Tinkerbell's face was still distorted with passion. Tink, Said Peter amiably, This lady says she wishes you were her fairy. Tinkerbell answered insolently. What does she say, Peter? Peter Pan had to translate. Tink is not being very polite, She says you're a great ugly girl and she is my fairy. Then he tried to argue with Tinkerbell, You know you can't be my fairy, Tink, Because I'm a gentleman and you are a lady. To this Tink replied, You silly hess, And she disappeared into the bathroom. She is quite a common fairy, Peter explained apologetically. She's called Tinkerbell because she mends the pots and the kettles. They were together in the armchair by this time and Wendy plied him with more questions. If you don't live in Kensington Gardens now, Well, Sometimes I do still. But where do you live mostly now, Peter? With the lost boys. Who are they? They're the children who fall after their perambulators when the nurse is looking the other way. If they're not claimed in seven days, They're sent far away to the Neverland to defray expenses. I am the captain. What fun that sounds. Yes, Said cunning Peter, But we're rather lonely. You see, We have no female companionship. And none of the others girls? Oh no, Girls, You know, Are much too clever to fall out of their prams. This flattered Wendy immensely. I think, She said, It's perfectly lovely the way you talk about girls. John there just despises us. For reply, Peter rose and kicked John out of bed, Blankets and all. With one kick. This seemed to Wendy rather forward for a first meeting and she told him with spirit he was not captain in her house. However, John continued to sleep so placidly on the floor she allowed him to remain there. And I know you meant to be kind, She said to Peter. So you may give me a kiss. For the moment she had forgotten his ignorance about kisses. Wendy kept her head erect this time. And then almost immediately she screeched. What is it, Wendy? It was exactly as if someone was pulling my hair. That must have been Tink. I never knew her so naughty before. Indeed, Tinkerbell was darting about again using offensive language. She says she'll do that to you, Wendy, Every time I give you a kiss. But why? Why, Tink? Again, Tink replied, You silly ass. Peter could not understand why, But Wendy understood and she was slightly disappointed when he admitted he came to the nursery window not to see her but to listen to stories. You see, I don't know any stories, He said. None of the lost boys know any stories. How perfectly awful, Said Wendy. Do you know, Peter asked, Why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It's to listen to the stories. Oh, Wendy, Your mother was telling you such a lovely story. Which story was it? The one about the prince who couldn't find the lady who wore the glass slipper. Peter, Said Wendy excitedly, That was Cinderella and he did find her and they lived happily ever after. Peter was so glad at this that he rose from the floor where they'd been sitting and hurried to the window. Where are you going? Said Wendy. To tell the other boys. Don't go, Peter, She entreated. I know such a lot of stories. Those were her precise words, So there can be no denying it was she who first tempted him. He came back and there was a greedy look in his eyes now which ought to have alarmed her, But it did not. All the stories I could tell to the boys, She cried. Then Peter gripped her and began to draw her towards the window. No, Let me go, She ordered him. Wendy, Come with me and tell the boys. Of course, Wendy was very pleased to be asked, But she said, No, I can't, Think of mummy. Besides, I can't fly. No, I'll teach you. Oh, How lovely to be able to. Yes, I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, Then away we go. Oh, Exclaimed Wendy rapturously. Wendy, Said Peter, Instead of sleeping in your silly bed, You might be flying about with me, Saying funny things to the stars. Oh, And Wendy, There are mermaids. Mermaids, With tails, Such long tails. Oh, Cried Wendy, To see a mermaid. Peter had now become frightfully cunning. Wendy, He said, How should we all respect you? Wendy was wriggling her body in distress. It was quite as if she were trying to remain on the nursery floor. But Peter had no pity. Wendy, He said, You could tuck us up at night. Oh, Said Wendy, None of us has ever been tucked in at night, Wendy. Oh, Wendy's arms went out to him. And you could don our clothes and make pockets for us. None of us has any pockets. How could Wendy resist? Of course, It's awfully fascinating, She cried. Peter, Would you teach John and Michael to fly too? If you like, He said indifferently. And she ran to John and Michael and shook them to wake up. Peter, Pan has come, She cried, And he's going to teach us how to fly. John rubbed his eyes. And I'll get up, He said. Of course, He was on the floor already. Michael was up by this time also, Looking as sharp as a knife with six blades and a saw. But Peter suddenly signed silence. Their faces assumed the awful craftiness of children listening for sounds from the grown-up world. All was still assault. Then everything was right. No, Stop, Everything was wrong. Nana, The dog, Who'd been barking distressfully all evening, Was quiet. And it was her silence they had heard. Out with the light, Hide, Quick, Cried John, Taking command for the only time throughout the whole adventure. And when Liza entered, Holding Nana, The nursery seemed quite its old self. Very dark. You could have sworn you heard three wicked inmates breathing angelically as they slept. They were really doing it artfully from behind the window curtains. Liza was in a bad temper, For she was mixing the Christmas puddings in the kitchen and had been drawn away from them, With a raisin still on her cheek, By Nana's absurd suspicions. She thought the best way of getting a little quiet was to take Nana to the nursery for a moment. But in custody, Of course. There, You suspicious brute, She said. Not sorry Nana was in disgrace. They're perfectly safe, Aren't they? Every one of the little angels sound asleep in bed. Just listen to their gentle breathing. Here, Michael, Encouraged by his success, Breathed so loudly they were nearly detected. Nana knew that kind of breathing and she tried to drag herself out of Liza's clutches. But Liza was dense. No more of it, Nana, She said sternly. I warn you, If you bark again I'll go straight for the master and missus and bring them home from the party. And then I won't master whip you just. At this, She tied the unhappy dog up again. Then she returned to her puddings. And Nana, Seeing that no help would come from her, Strained at the chain until at last she broke it. It was now ten minutes since the three scoundrels had been breathing behind the curtains and Peter Pan can do a great deal in ten minutes. We now returned to the nursery. It's all right, John announced emerging from his hiding place. I say, Peter, Can you really fly? Instead of troubling to answer him, Peter flew around the room taking the mantelpiece on the way. How topping, Said John and Michael. How sweet, Cried Wendy. Yes, I'm sweet. Oh, I'm sweet, Said Peter, Forgetting his manners again. It looked delightfully easy and they tried it first from the floor and then from the beds, But they always went down instead of up. I say, How do you do it? Asked John, Rubbing his knee. He was quite a practical boy. You just think lovely, Wonderful thoughts, Peter explained, And they lift you up in the air. He showed them again. You're so nippy at it, John said, Couldn't you do it very slowly once? Peter did it both slowly and quickly. I've got it now, Wendy, Cried John, But he soon found he had not. Not one of them could fly an inch, Though even Michael was in words of two syllables and Peter did not know A from Z. Of course, Peter had been trifling with them for no one can fly unless the fairy dust has been blown on him. Fortunately, As we have mentioned, One of his hands was messy with it and he blew some on each of them with the most superb results. Now wiggle your shoulders this way, He said, And let go. They were all on their beds and gallant Michael let go first. He did not quite mean to, But he did, And immediately he was borne across the room. I float, He screamed, While still in midair. John let go and met Wendy near the bathroom. Lovely, Ripping, Look at me. They were not nearly so elegant as Peter, But they could not help kicking a little and their heads were bobbing against the ceiling and there is almost nothing so delicious as that. Peter gave Wendy a hand at first, But had to desist, For Tinkerbell was so indignant. Up and around they went, Heavenly was Wendy's word. I say, Cried John, Why should we all go out? Of course it was to this that Peter had been luring them. Michael was ready, He wanted to see how long it took him to do a billion miles, But Wendy hesitated. Mermaids, Said Peter again, And there are pirates. Pirates, Cried John, Seizing his Sunday hat, Let us go at once. It was just at this moment that Mr and Mrs Darling hurried with Nana out of number 27. They ran into the middle of the street to look up at the nursery window, And yes, It was still shut, But the room was ablaze with light and most heart-gripping sight of all, They could see in the shadow on the curtain three little figures in night attire, Circling round and round, Not on the floor, But in the air. Not three figures, But four. In a tremble they opened the street door. Mr Darling would have rushed upstairs, But Mrs Darling signed him to go softly. She even tried to make her heart go softly. Would they reach the nursery in time? If so, How delightful for them. But then there would be no story. On the other hand, If they were not in time, It would all come out right in the end. Come, Said Peter, Knowing there was not a moment to lose, And he soared out at once into the night, Followed by John and Michael and Wendy. As it happened, Mr and Mrs Darling and Nana were too late. The birds had flown. Second to the right and straight on till morning, Said Peter. That was the way to Neverland. But even birds carrying maps and consulting them at windy corners could not have sighted it with these instructions. Peter, You see, Just said anything that came into his head. At first his companions trusted him implicitly, And so great were the delights of flying, They wasted time circling around church spires or any other tall objects on the way that took their fancy. John and Michael raced. Michael got a head start. They recalled with contempt that not so long ago they thought themselves fine fellows for being able to fly round a room. Not so long ago, But how long ago? Now they were flying over the sea, And John thought it was their second sea and their third night. Sometimes it was dark and sometimes it was light, And then they were very cold and now they were too warm. Did they feel hungry at times or were they merely pretending because Peter had such a jolly new way of feeding them? His way was to pursue birds who had food in their mouths suitable for humans and snatch it from them. Then the birds would follow and snatch it back, And they would all go chasing each other for miles. Wendy noticed with gentle concern that Peter did not seem to know this was rather an odd way of getting your bread and butter. Certainly they did not pretend to be sleepy. They were sleepy though and that was a danger. For the moment they popped off, Down they fell. The awful thing was Peter thought this was very funny. There he goes again, He cried gleefully as Michael suddenly dropped like a stone. Save him! Cried Wendy looking with horror at the cruel sea far below. Eventually Peter dived through the air and caught Michael just before he could strike the sea. And it was lovely the way he did it, But he always waited till the last minute. And you felt it was his cleverness that interested him and not the saving of human life. Also Peter was very fond of variety and the sport that engrossed him one moment would suddenly cease to engage him. So there was always the possibility the next time you felt he might just let you go. He could sleep in the air without falling by merely lying on his back and floating. But this was partly at least because Peter Pan was so light, If you got behind him and you blew, He went much faster. Do be polite to him, Wendy whispered to John. Then tell him to stop showing off, Said John. When playing follow my leader, Peter would fly close to the water and touch each shark's tail in passing. Just as in the street you run your finger along an iron railing. Peter, John and Michael could not follow him in this with much success. You must be nice to him, Wendy impressed on her brothers. Whatever could we do if he were to leave us? We could go back, Said Michael. However could we find our way back without him? Then we'll go on, Said John. We should have to go on, We don't know how to stop. If the worst came to the worst all they had to do was grow straight on. For the world was round and so in time they must come back to their own window. But they did not know this. But eventually things got easier as Peter showed them how to lie out flat on a strong wing that was going their way. And this was such a pleasant change, They tried it several times and found they could sleep thus with security. Indeed they would have slept longer. But Peter tired quickly of sleeping and soon he cried, We get off here. After many moons they had reached the Neverland. And what is more, They had been going pretty straight all the time. There it is, Said Peter calmly, Where all the arrows are pointing. Indeed a million golden arrows were pointing out of the island to the children. All directed by their friend the sun who wanted them to be sure of their way before leaving them for the night. Wendy, John and Michael stood on tiptoe in the air to get their first sight of the island. Strange to say they recognised it at once. And until fear fell upon them they hailed it not as something long dreamt of, But as a familiar friend to whom they were returning home for the holidays. There's a lagoon, John, Said Wendy. Look at the turtles burying their eggs in the sand, Said John. I say, John, I see your flamingo with a broken leg. Look, Michael, There's your cave. What's that in the brushwood? It's a wolf with her whelps. Wendy, I believe that's your little whelp. There's my boat, John, With her side stove in. No, It isn't. We burned your boat. It is her at any rate. I say, John, I see the smoke of the red-skinned camp. Where? Show me. I'll tell you the way by the smoked curls, Whether they're on the warpath or not. There, Just across the mysterious river. Yes, They're on the warpath right enough. Listening to this Peter was a little annoyed. They knew too much. But if he wanted to lord it over them, His triumph was at hand. For have I not told you that a non-fear fell upon them? It came as the arrows went, Leaving the island in gloom. In the old days at home, The Neverland had always begun to look a little dark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it and spread. Black shadows moved about. And the roar of the beasts of prey was quite different. You lost the certainty you would win after this. And you were quite glad the night lights were in. You even liked Nana to say this was just the mantelpiece over there and that Neverland was all make-believe. But of course, Neverland had been make-believe in those days. But it was real now. And there were no night lights. And it was getting darker every moment. And Nana, Dear Nana, Was nowhere to be seen. They had been flying apart but they huddled close to Peter now. His careless manner had gone at last. His eyes were sparkling and a tingle went through them every time they touched his body. They were now over the fearsome island flying so low that sometimes a tree grazed their feet. Nothing horrid was visible in the air yet their progress had become slow and laboured. Exactly as if they were pushing their way through hostile forces. Sometimes they hung in the air until Peter had beaten on it with his fists. They don't want us to land, He explained. Who are they? Wendy whispered shuddering but he could not or would not say. Tinker Bell had been asleep on Peter's shoulder but now he'd wakened her up and sent her on in front. Sometimes he poised himself in the air listening intently with his hand to his ear. And then he would stare down with his eyes so bright they seemed to bore two holes to earth. Having done these things he went on again. His courage now was almost appalling. Do you want an adventure? He asked casually to John. Or would you like to have your tea first? Tea first? Said Wendy quickly and Michael pressed her hand in gratitude. But the braver John hesitated. What kind of adventure? He said cautiously. There's a pirate asleep in the pampas just down beneath us, Peter told him. If you like we'll go down and kill him. I don't see him, John said after a long pause. I do. Suppose, John said a little huskily, He were to wake up. Peter spoke indignantly. You don't think I'd kill him when he was sleeping do you? I'd wake him up first and then kill him. That's the way I always do it. I say, Do you kill many? Tons. How ripping, Said John before deciding to have tea first. Who is the captain? Captain? Captain Hook, Answered Peter. His face became very stern as he said that. Just Captain Hook? Aye. Then Michael began to cry and even John could speak in gulps only for they knew Captain Hook's reputation. He was in Blackbeard's bosom, John whispered. He's the worst of them all. He's the only man of whom Barbecue was afraid. That's him, Said Peter. What's he like? Is he big? He's not so big as he was. I cut a bit off him. You? Yes me, Said Peter sharply. I wasn't meaning to be disrespectful. All right then. What bit was it? His right hand. Oh, So he can't fight now then? Can't he just? He has an iron hook instead of a right hand and he claws with it. Claws? I say, John, Said Peter. There is one thing, Peter continued. Every boy who serves under me has to promise and so must you. If we meet Hook in an open fight, You're going to have to leave him to me. I promise, John said loyally. For the moment they were feeling less eerie because Tink was flying with them and in her light they could distinguish one another. Unfortunately, Though, She could not fly as slowly as they and she had to go round and round in a circle in which they moved as in a halo. Windy quite liked it until Peter pointed out the drawback. She tells me the pirates sighted us before the darkness came and they got long Tom out. The big gun? Yes, That's it. They must have seen her light. If they guess we're near, They'll be sure to let fly. Tell Tink to go away at once, Peter, The three cried simultaneously, But he refused. She thinks we've lost the way, He replied, And she is rather frightened. You don't think I'd send her away all by herself, Do you? For a moment the circle of light was broken and something gave Peter a loving little pinch. Tell her to put out her light, Windy begged. She can't put it out, Said Peter. That's about the only thing fairies can't do. It just goes out of itself when she falls asleep, The same as the stars. And tell her to sleep at once, John almost ordered. She can't sleep except when she's sleepy, It's the only other thing fairies can't do. Seems to me, Growled John, These are the only two things worth doing. Here he got a pinch, But not a loving one. If only one of us had a pocket, Peter said, We could carry her in that. However, They'd all set off in such a hurry there was not a pocket between them. But Peter had an idea, John's hat. Presently, Wendy took the hat because John said it struck against his knee as he flew. And this, As we shall see, Led to mischief. For Tinkerbell hated to be under an obligation to Wendy. They flew on in complete silence. It was the stillest silence they had ever known. To Michael, The loneliness was dreadful. Only something would make a sound, He cried. And as if in answer to his request, The air was went by the most tremendous crash they had ever heard. The pirates had fired long Tom at them. The roar of it echoed through the mountains and the echoes seemed to cry savagely. Thus sharply did the terrified three learn the difference between an island of make-believe and the same island come true. When at last the heavens were steady again, John and Michael found themselves alone in the darkness. John was treading the air mechanically and Michael, Without knowing how to float, Was floating. Are you shot? John whispered. I haven't tried yet, Michael whispered back. But it would have been well for Wendy if at that moment she hadn't dropped the hat. I don't know whether the idea came suddenly to Tink or whether she planned it on the way, But she at once popped out of the hat and began to lure Wendy to her destruction. Tinkerbell was not all bad. Or rather, She was all bad just now. But on the other hand, Sometimes she was all good. Fairies have to be one thing or the other. Sometimes she was all good. And then, When she was allowed to change, It had to be a complete change. At present she was full of jealousy. What she said in her lovely tinkle, Wendy could not, Of course, Understand. Some of it, I believe, Was bad words. But it sounded kind to Wendy. As she flew back and forth, Plainly meaning, Follow me and all will be well. And what else could poor Wendy do? She called to Peter and John and Michael, But only got mocking echoes in reply. Wendy did not yet know that Tinkerbell hated her with a fierce hatred of a fairy woman. And so bewildered and now staggering in her flight, Wendy followed Tinkerbell to her doom. Feeling that Peter was on his way back, The Neverland had again woke into life. We ought to use the blue perfect and say wakened, But woke is better and was always used by Peter. In his absence, Things are usually quiet on the island. The fairies take an hour longer in the morning. The beasts attend to their young. The redskins feed heavily for six days and nights. And when pirates and lost boys meet, They merely bite their thumbs at each other. But with the coming of Peter, Who hates lethargy, They are now under their way again. If you put your ear to the ground now, You would hear the whole island seething with life. On this evening, The chief forces of the island were disposed as follows. The lost boys were out looking for Peter. The pirates were out looking for the lost boys. The redskins were out looking for the pirates. And the beasts were out looking for the redskins. They were all going round and around and around the island. But they did not meet because they were all going at the same rate. All wanted blood, Except the boys, Who liked it as a rule, But tonight were out to greet their captain. The boys on the island vary, Of course, In numbers according to as they get killed and so on. And when they seem to be growing up, Which is against the rules, Peter thins them out. But at this time there were six of them, Counting the twins as two. Let us pretend to lie here among the sugar cane and watch them as they steal in by single file, Each with his hand on his dagger. They are forbidden by Peter to look in the least like him and they wear the skins of bears slain by themselves, In which they are so round and furry that when they fall they roll. They have therefore become very sure-footed. The first to pass is Tootles, Not the least brave but the most unfortunate of that gallant band. He had been in fewer adventures than any of them because the big things constantly happened just when he had stepped round the corner. All would be quiet. He would take the opportunity of going off to gather a few sticks for firewood. And then when he returned the others would be sweeping up the blood. This ill luck had given a gentle melancholy to his countenance. But instead of souring, His nature had sweetened it so that he was quite the humblest of the boys. Poor kind Tootles, There is danger in the air for you tonight. Take care lest an adventure is now offered you which, If accepted, Will plunge you into deepest woe. Tootles, The fairy tink who is bent on mischief, Is looking for a tool and she thinks you the most easily tricked of the boys. Beware Tinkerbell. Would that he could hear us but we're not really on the island and he passes by biting his knuckles. Next comes Nibs, The gay and debonair, Followed by Slightly who cuts whistles out of the trees and dances ecstatically to his own tunes. Slightly is the most conceited of the boys. He thinks he remembers the days before he was lost with their manners and customs and this has given his nose an offensive tilt. Curly is fourth. He is a pickle and so often he's had to deliver up his person when Peter said sternly, Stand forth the one who did this thing, So that now he stands forth automatically whether he's done it or not. Last come the twins who cannot be described because we should be sure to be describing the wrong one. Peter never quite knew what twins were and his band were not allowed to know anything he did not know. So these two were always vague about themselves and did their best to give satisfaction by keeping close together in an apologetic sort of a way. As we watch the boys vanish in the gloom. And after a pause, But not a long pause because things go briskly on the island, Come the pirates on their track. We hear them before they seem and it's always the same dreadful song. A vast belay, A ho he too, A pirate in we go. And if we're parted by a shot, We're sure to meet below. A more villainous looking lot never hung in a row on execution dock. Here is the handsome Italian, Gekko. He cut his name in letters of blood on the back of the governor of the prison. That gigantic man behind him has had many names since he dropped the one. And there is Bill Dukes, Every inch of him tattooed. And Cookson, Said to be Black Murphy's brother. And Gentleman Starkey, Once an usher in a public school and still dainty in his ways of killing. And Skylights, And the Irish Bosun Smee. Then Noodler, Whose hands were fixed on backwards. And Robert Mullins, And Alf Mason, And many other ruffian long known and feared on the Spanish May. In the midst of them all, The blackest and largest in that dark setting, Reclined Captain Hook. Hook lay at ease in a ruff chariot drawn and propelled by his men. And instead of a right hand, He had the iron hook, Which ever and anon he encouraged them to increase their pace. As dogs, This terrible man, Hook, Treated them. And as dogs they obeyed. In person he was cadaverous and blackavised, And his hair was dressed in long curls. Which, At a little distance, Looked like black candles, And gave him a singularly threatening expression to his handsome countenance. His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not, And a profound melancholy, Save when he was plunging his hook into you. At which time two red spots appeared in them and lit them up horribly. In manner, Something of the grand seigneur still clung to him, So that he even ripped you up with an air, And I've been told he was a raconteur of repute. He was never more sinister than when he was most polite, Which is probably the truest test of breeding. And the elegance of his diction, Even when he was swearing, No less than the distinction of his demeanour, Showed him one of a different cast from his crew. Hook is a man of indomitable courage. The only thing he shies away at is the sight of his own blood, Which is thick and of an unusual colour. In dress, He somewhat apes the attire associated with the name of Charles II, And, Having heard it said in some earlier period of his career, That he bore a strange resemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts. And in his mouth, He had a holder of his own contrivance, Which enabled him to smoke two cigars at once. But undoubtedly, The grimmest part of Captain Hook was his iron claw. Such is the terrible man against whom Peter Pan is pitied. So which will win? On the trail of the pirates, Stealing noiselessly down the warpath, Which is not visible to inexperienced eyes, Come the redskins. Every one of them has his eyes peeled. They carry tomahawks and knives, And their naked bodies gleam with paint and oil. Strung about them are scalps of boys as well as pirates, For these are the Picaninny tribe, Not to be confused with the soft-hearted Delawares or the Hurons. In the van on all fours is Great Big Little Panther, A brave of so many scalps that in his present position they somewhat impede his progress. Bringing up the rear, The place of greatest danger, Comes Tiger Lily, Proudly erect, A princess in her own right. She is the most beautiful of dusky Dianas and the belle of the Picaninnies. Coquettish, Cold and amorous by turns, There is not a brave who would not have the wayward thing to wife. But she staves off the altar with a hatchet. Observe how they pass over fallen twigs without making the slightest noise. The only sound to be heard is their somewhat heavy breathing. The fact is they were all a little fat just now after the heavy gorging, But in time they'll work this off. For the moment, However, It constitutes their chief danger. When they have passed, Here comes the last figure of all, A giant crocodile. The crocodile passes but soon the boys appear again, For the procession must continue indefinitely until one of the parties stops or changes its pace. Then quickly they will all be on top of each other. The first of all out of the moving circle was the boys. They flung themselves down on the swat close to their underground home. I do wish Peter would come back, Every one of them said. Then they talked of Cinderella and Tootles was confident his mother might have been very like her. They only talked of their mothers in Peter's absence, For the subject was being forbidden by him as silly. All I remember about my mother, Nibs said, Is she often said to father, How I wish I had a checkbook of my own. I don't know what a checkbook is, But I should love to give my mother one. Then while they talked they heard a distant sound. It was a grim song, The pirate song. So dart away to their home, They must. As the pirates advanced the quick eye of Starkey sighted Nibs disappearing through the wood and once his pistol flashed out, But an iron claw gripped his shoulder. Captain, Let go, He cried, Writhing. Now for the first time we hear the voice of Hook. It was a very black voice. Put that pistol back first, He'd said threateningly. It was one of those boys you hate, I could have shot him dead. Aye, And the sound would have brought Tiger Lily's redskins upon us. Do you want to lose your scalp? Shall I ask to hang, Captain? Asked pathetic Smee and tickled him with Johnny Corkscrew. Smee had pleasant names for everything and his cutlass was Johnny Corkscrew because he wriggled it in the wound. One could mention many lovable traits in Smee. For instance, After killing it was his spectacles he wiped instead of his weapon. Johnny's a silent fellow, He reminded Hook. Not now, Smee, Said Hook darkly. He's only one and I want to mischief all the seven. Scatter and look out for them. The pirates disappeared among the trees and in a moment their captain and Smee were alone. Hook heaved a heavy sigh. Why? I know not why it was. Perhaps it was because of the soft beauty of the evening. But there came over him a desire to confide to his faithful bosun the story of his life. He spoke long and earnestly. But what it was all about Smee, Who was rather stupid, Did not know. And on he caught the word Peter. Most of all, Hook was saying passionately, I want their captain Peter Pan to see you cut off my arm. He brandished the hook threateningly. I've waited long to shake his hand with this. How I'll tear him up. And yet, Said Smee, I have often heard you say that Hook was worth a score of hands for combing the hair of another homely useless. Aye, The captain answered. If I was a mother, I'd pray to have my children born with this instead of that. He cast a look of pride upon his iron hand, Then one of scorn upon the other. Then he frowned. Peter Pan flung my arm to a crocodile that happened to be passing by. I have often, Said Smee, Noticed your strange dread of crocodiles. Lots of crocodiles, But of that one crocodile, Hook corrected him. It liked my arm so much, Smee, It's followed me ever since, Licking its lips for the rest of me. In a way, Said Smee, It's a sort of compliment. I want no such compliments. I want Peter Pan, Who first gave the brute its taste for me. Captain Hook sat down on a large mushroom, And now there was a quiver in his voice. That crocodile would have had me before this, But by some lucky chance it swallowed a clock which goes tick, Tick, Tick inside it. So before it can reach me, I hear the tick, Tick, Tick, And I bolt. Someday, Said Smee, The clock will run down, And then it'll get you. Aye, That's the fear that haunts me, Said Captain Hook. He examined the mushroom, Which was a size and solidity unknown on the mainland. This seat is hot, He jumped up. Bolts, Hammer and tongs are burning. Hook and Smee tried to pull it up, And it came away once in their hands, For it had no root. It's a chimney. They had indeed discovered the chimney of a home under the ground. It was the custom of the boys to stop it with a mushroom when enemies were near. Not only smoke came out of it, There also came children's voices. For so safe did the boys feel in their hiding place, They were gaily chattering. The pirates listened grimly, Then replaced the mushroom. They looked all around them and noted the holes in the seven trees. Did you hear them say Peter Pan's away from home? Smee whispered, Fidgeting with Johnny Corkscrew. Hook nodded. He stood for a long time, Lost in thought, And at last a curdling smile lit up his swarthy face. Return to the ship, Hook replied slowly, And cook a large rich cake of a jolly thickness with green sugar on it. There can be but one room below, For there is but one chimney. We'll leave the cake on the shore of the mermaid's lagoon. Those boys are always swimming about there, Playing with the mermaids. They'll goggle the cake up, Because having no mother, They don't know how dangerous it is to eat rich damp cake. Ha ha, He laughed, Then they will die. Smee listened with growing admiration. It's the wickedest, Prettiest policy I ever heard of, He cried. And in their exultation, They danced around and sang. Avast, Belay, When I appear, By fear they're overtook. Now it's left upon your bones when you have shaken claws with Hook. Just then, A sound broke in and stilled them. It was at first such a tiny sound, A leaf might have fallen on it and smothered it, But as it came nearer, It was more distinct. Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick it went, And Hook stood shuddering, One foot in the air. The crocodile, He gasped, And bounded away, Followed by his bosun. It was indeed the crocodile, It had passed the redskins, Who were now on the trail of the other pirates. At this time, There was a large white bird flying their way. What kind of bird do you think? Cried one of the boys. I don't know, Nibs answered awestruck, But it looked so weary, And it flies as it moans, Poor Wendy. Poor Wendy? There are birds called Wendy's, I think. Here it comes, Cried Curly, Pointing to Wendy in the heavens. Wendy was now almost overhead, And they could hear her plaintive cry, But more distinct came the shrill voice of Tinkerbell. The jealous fairy had now cast off all disguise of friendship, And was darting at her victim from every direction, Pinching savagely each time she touched her. Hello, Tink, Cried the wandering boys. Tink's reply rang out, Peter wants you to shoot the Wendy. But it was not in their nature to question, When Peter ordered. So let's do as Peter wishes, They said, Get the bows and arrows, Much to the dismay of Wendy. All but Tootles popped down their trees. He had a bow and arrow with him, And Tink noted it, And rubbed her little hands. Quick, Tootles, Quick, She screamed. Peter will be so pleased with you, And with Slightly, And with Nibs. Tootles excitedly fixed the arrow to his bow. Out of the way, Tink, He shouted. And as all the boys watched, He aimed and fired. And poor Wendy fluttered to the ground, With an arrow deep in her breast. Foolish Tootles was standing like a conqueror over Wendy's body, When the other boys sprang armed from their trees. You're too late, He cried proudly, I shot the Wendy. Peter will be so pleased with me. Overhead Tinkerbell shouted, Silly us, And darted into hiding. The others did not hear her, They crowded round Wendy, And as they looked, A terrible silence fell upon the wood. If Wendy's heart had been beating, They would all have heard it. Slightly was the first to speak. This is no bird, He said in a scared voice, I think it must be a lady. A lady? Said Tootles. And we've killed her, Nibs said hoarsely. They all whipped off their caps. Now I see, Curly said, Peter was bringing her to us. He threw himself sorrowfully on the ground. A lady to take care of us at last, Said one of the twins, And you've killed her. They were all sorry for him, But sorrier for themselves. And when he took a step nearer, They turned away. Tootles' face was very white, But there was a dignity about him now he'd never had before. I did it, He said, Reflecting. When ladies used to come to me in dreams, I said, Pretty mother, But when at last she really came, I was the one who shot her. He moved slowly away. Don't go, They all called in pity. I must, He answered, Shaking, I'm so afraid of Peter. It was at this tragic moment they heard a sound which made the heart of every one of them rise to its mouth. It was Peter's crow. Peter, They cried. Hide her, They whispered. But Tootles stood aloof. Again came the ringing crow and Peter dropped down in front of them. Greeting boys, Cried. And then there was silence. I'm back. Why do you not cheer, He said hotly. They opened their mouths, But the cheers would not come. He overlooked it in his haste to tell the glorious tidings. Great news, Boys, Cried. I've bought at last a mother for you all. Still no sound, Except a little thud from Tootles. Tootles as he dropped on his knees. Have you not seen her, Asked Peter. She flew this way. Oh me, Said one voice, And another. Oh, Mournful day. Peter, He said quietly. I will show her to you. They all stood back and let Peter see. She's dead, He said uncomfortably. Perhaps she's frightened at being dead. Peter thought of hopping off in a comic sort of way till he was out of sight. And then never going near the spot anymore. But there was the arrow. He took it from her heart and faced his band. Whose arrow's this, He demanded. Mine, Peter, Said Tootles. Dust at hand, Peter said. He raised the arrow to use it as a dagger. And Tootles did not flinch. He just bared his breast. Strike, He said firmly. Strike true. Twice did Peter raise the arrow. And twice did his hand fall. I cannot strike. There's always something that stays my hand. All looked at him in wonder. Save Nibs, Who fortunately looked at Wendy. It is she, He cried. The Wendy lady, See, Her arm. She lives, Peter said briefly. The Wendy lady lives. He knelt beside her and found his button. You remember she put it on a chain she wore round her neck. See, He said, The arrow struck against this. That's the kiss I gave her. It saved her life. I remember kisses, Slightly interposed. Let me see it. Peter did not hear him. He was too busy begging Wendy to get better quickly so he could show her the mermaids. Of course she could not answer yet. She was in such a frightful faint. But from overhead came a wailing note. Listen to Tink, Said Curly. She's crying because the Wendy lives. They had to tell Peter of Tink's crime and almost never had they seen him look so stern. Listen, Tinkerbell, Peter cried. I am your friend no more. Be gone from me forever. At this she flew onto his shoulder and pleaded. But he brushed her off. Not until Wendy again raised her arm did he relent. Well, Not forever then, But for a whole week. Do you think Tinkerbell was grateful to Wendy for raising her arm? No, She never wanted to pinch her so much. Fairies are very strange and Peter, Who understood them best, Often told them off. But what should he do with Wendy in her present delicate state of health? Let's carry her down into the house, Curly suggested. No, Peter said. You must not touch her. It wouldn't be respectful. That, Said Slighty, Is what I was thinking. But if she lies there, Sir Tootle, She'll die. Aye, She will die, Slightly admitted. But there's no way out now. Yes, There is, Cried Peter. Let's build a little house around her. Bring me, Each of you, The best of what we have. Gut out our house and be sharp. In a moment, They were all as busy as tailors the night before a wedding. They scurried this way and that, Down for bedding, Up for firewood. And while they were at it, Who should appear but John and Michael? As they dragged along the ground, They fell asleep, Standing. Then they stopped, Woke up and moved another step and slept again. John, Michael would cry. Wake up, John. Where's Nana and Mother? And then John would rub his eyes and mutter. It is true. We did fly. You may be very sure they were relieved to find Peter. Hello, They said. Hello, Replied Peter amicably, Although he had quite forgotten them. He was very busy at the moment, Measuring Wendy with his feet to see how large a house she would need. Of course, He meant to leave room for chairs and a table too. Is Wendy asleep? John and Michael asked. Yes. Let's wake her and get her to make some supper for us, They said. But then some of the other boys rushed in and carried branches for the building of the house. Build a house, Exclaimed John. For the Wendy, Said Curly. Why, She's only a girl, Said John at last. That, Explained Curly, Is why we are her servants. You, Wendy's servants? Yes, Said Peter, And so to you also. Now away with them. And the astounded brothers were dragged away to hack and hoo and carry. Chairs and a fender first, Peter ordered, Then we'll build a house. Aye, Said Slightly, That is how a house is built. It all comes back to me now. Peter had thought of everything. And Slightly, He said, Make sure you bring a doctor. Will do, Said Slightly. After some time, The house was built and Wendy slept soundly. Then at last the door opened and a lady came out. It was Wendy. They whipped off their hats and she looked properly surprised. Where am I? She said. Wendy, Lady, Said Slightly, The first to get his word in. We built this house for you. Say you're pleased, Cried Nibs. Lovely darling house, Said Wendy. They were the very words they hoped she would say. And we are your children, Cried the twins. Can you be our mother? Ought I, Said Wendy. Of course it's frightfully fascinating, But you see, I'm only a little girl myself. I have no real experience. That doesn't matter, Said Peter. As if he were the only person present who knew all about it. What we really need is a nice motherly person. Ah, Said Wendy. Well, I feel that is exactly what I am. It is, It is, They all cried. We saw it at once. Very well then, She said. I will do my best. Now come inside at once, You naughty children. I'm sure your feet are damp. And before I put you all to bed, We have just time to finish the story of Cinderella. And in they all went. I don't know how there was room for them, But you can squeeze very tight in the Neverland. And that was the first of the many joyous evenings they had with Wendy. She tucked them up in the great bed in the home under the trees. But she herself slept that night in the little house. And Peter kept watch outside with a drawn sword. For the pirates could be heard carousing far away. And the wolves were on the prowl. Any of the other boys obstructing the fairy path at night would have been mischiefed. But they just tweaked Peter's nose and passed on. One of the first things Peter did next day was to measure Wendy and John and Michael for hollow trees. Hook, You remember, Had sneered at the boys for thinking they needed a tree apiece. But this was ignorance. For unless your tree fitted you, It was difficult to go up and down. And no two of the boys were quite the same size. Once you fitted, You drew in your breath at the top and down you went at exactly the right speed. While to ascend you drew in and let out alternately. And so you wriggled up. Of course, When you've mastered the action, You're able to do these things without thinking about them. And then nothing can be more graceful. But you simply must fit. And Peter measures you for your tree as carefully as for a suit of clothes. The only difference being the clothes are made to fit you. While you have to be made to fit the tree. Usually it's done quite easily as by you're wearing too many garments or too few. But if you were bumpy in awkward places, Well the only available tree is an old shape. Peter does some things to you. And after that, You fit. Once you fit, Great care must be taken to go on fitting. And this, As Wendy was to discover to her delight, Keeps the whole family in perfect condition. Wendy and Michael fitted their trees at the first try. John, However, Had to be altered a little. After a few days' practice, They went up and down as gaily as buckets in a well. And how ardently they grew to love their home under the ground, Especially Wendy. It consisted of one large room, As all houses should do. With a floor in which you could dig if you wanted to go fishing. And in this floor grew stout mushrooms of a charming colour, Which were used as stools. Another tree tried hard to grow in the centre of the room, But every morning they sawed the trunk through, Level with the floor. By tea time it was always about two feet high, And then they put a door on top of it. The whole thing thus became a table. And as soon as they cleared away, They sawed off the trunk again, And thus there was more room to play. There was an enormous fireplace, Which was in almost any part of the room where you cared to light it. And across this Wendy stretched strings made of fibre, And from that she suspended her washing. The bed was tilted against the wall by day and let down at 6. 30, When it filled nearly half the room. And all the boys except Michael slept in it, Lying like sardines in a tin. There was a strict rule against turning round until one gave the signal, And then all turned at once. Michael should have used it also, But Wendy would have a baby, And he was the littlest. And you know what women are, And the short and the long of it is, He was hung in a basket. It was rough and simple and not unlike what baby bears would have made of an underground house in the same circumstances. But there was one recess in the wall, No larger than a birdcage, Which was the private apartment of Tinkerbell. It could be shut off from the rest of the home by a tiny curtain, Which Tink, Who was most fastidious, Always kept drawn when dressing or undressing. No woman, However large, Could have had a more exquisite boudoir and bedchamber combined. The couch, As she always called it, Was a genuine queen mab with club legs, And she varied the bedspreads according to what fruit blossom was in season. Her mirror was a puss in boots, Of which there are now only three, Unshipped, Known to the fairy dealers. The washstand was pie-crust and reversible, And the chest of drawers an authentic charming the sixth, The carpet and rugs of the best period of Marjorie and Robin. There was a chandelier from Tiddlywinks for the look of the thing, But of course Tinkerbell lit the residence herself. She was very contemptuous of the rest of the house. Her chamber, Though beautiful, Looked rather conceited, Having the appearance of a nose permanently turned up. I suppose it was all especially entrancing to Wendy, Because those rampagious boys of hers gave her so much to do. Really, There were whole weeks when, Except perhaps for the stocking in the evening, She was never above ground. The cooking, I can tell you, Kept her nose to the pot. Their chief food was roasted breadfruit, Yams, Coconuts, Baked pig, Marmy apples, Tapper rolls and bananas, Washed-down calabashes of popo. But you never knew exactly whether there would be a real meal, Or just a make-believe. It all depended upon Peter's whim. He could eat, Really eat, If it was part of a game. But he could not stodge just to feel stodgy, Which is what most children like better than anything else. Make-believe was so real to Peter that during a meal of it, You could see him getting rounder. Of course it was trying, But you simply had to follow his lead, And if you could prove to him you were getting loose for your tree, He let you stodge. Wendy's favourite time for sewing and darning was after they'd all gone to bed, And as she expressed it, She had a breathing time for herself then. She occupied it in making new things for them, And putting double pieces on the knees, For they were almost frightfully hard on their knees. When she sat down to a basket full of their stockings, Every heel with a hole in it, She would fling up her arms and exclaim, Oh dear, I'm sure I sometimes think spincers are to be envied. Her face always beamed when she exclaimed this. Do you remember about her pet wolf? Well it was very soon discovered she'd come to the island and it found her out. And they ran into each other's arms. And after that it followed her about everywhere. But I'm afraid that Wendy did not really worry about her father and mother. She was confident they would always keep the window open for her to fly back, And this gave her a complete ease of mind. What did disturb her at times was that John remembered his parents vaguely only, As people he had once known, While Michael was quite willing to believe that Wendy was really his mother. These things scared Wendy a little, And nobly anxious to do her duty she tried to fix the old life in their minds by setting them examination papers on it, As like as possible to the one she used to do at school. The other boys thought this awfully interesting and insisted on joining. They made slates for themselves and sat round the table, Writing and thinking hard about the questions she'd written. What was the colour of mother's eyes? Which was taller, Father or mother? Was mother blonde or brunette? Write an essay of not less than 40 words on how I spent my last holidays. Or the characters of father and mother compared. Or describe mother's laugh. Describe father's laugh. Describe mother's party dress. Describe the kennel and its inmate. They were just everyday questions like these, And when you could not answer them you were told to make a cross, And it was really dreadful what a number of crosses John made. Of course the only boy who replied to every question was slightly, And no one could have been more hopeful of coming out first, But his answers were always perfectly ridiculous, And he really came out last. That was a melancholy thing. Peter, Of course, Did not compete. For one thing he despised all mothers except Wendy, And for another he was the only boy on the island who could neither write nor spell. He was above that sort of thing. By the way, The questions were all written in past tense, Because in fact Wendy had been forgetting too. Adventures, Of course, As we shall see, Were of daily occurrence, But about this time Peter invented, With Wendy's help, A new game that fascinated him enormously, Until he suddenly had no more interest in it, Which, As you have been told, Was what always happened with Peter's games. It consisted in pretending not to have adventures. In doing the sort of thing John and Michael had been doing all their lives, Sitting on stools, Flinging balls in the air, Pushing each other, Going out for walks and coming back without having killed so much as a grizzly. To see Peter doing nothing on a stool was a great sight. He could not help looking solemn at such times. To sit still seemed to him such a comic thing to do. He even boasted he'd gone on a walk for the good of his health. For several sons these were the most novel of all adventures to him, And John and Michael had to pretend to be delighted also, Otherwise he would have treated them severely. Peter often went out alone, And when he came back, You were never absolutely certain whether he'd had an adventure or not. He might have forgotten it so completely he said nothing about it, And then when you went out you found the body, And on the other hand he might say a great deal about it, And yet you could not find the body. Sometimes he came home with his head bandaged. Then Wendy cooed over him and bathed it in lukewarm water while he told a dazzling tale. But she was never quite sure. There were, However, Many adventures which she knew to be true, Because she was in them herself. And there were still more that were at least partly true, For the other boys were in them, And they said they were wholly true. To describe them all would require a book as large as an English to Latin, Latin to English dictionary, And the most we can do is give one as a specimen of an average hour on the island. The difficulty is which one to choose. Should we take the brush with the red skins at slightly gulch? It was a sanguinary affair, And especially interesting is showing off one of Peter's peculiarities, Which was that in the middle of a fight he would suddenly change sides. At the gulch, When victory was still in the balance, Sometimes leaning this way and sometimes that, He called out, I'm red skinned today. What are you, Tootles? And Tootles would say, Red skin, What are you, Nibs? And Nibs would say, Red skin, What are you, Twin? And so on. And then they were all red skinned. And of course this would have ended the fight had not the real red skins, Fascinated by Peter's methods, Agreed to be lost boys for that once. And so they all went at it again more fiercely than ever. The extraordinary upshot of this adventure was, But we have not yet decided, That this is the adventure we are to narrate. Perhaps a better one would be the night attack by the red skins on the house under the ground, Where several of them stuck in the hollow trees and had to be pulled out like corks. Or we might tell how Peter saved Tiger Lily's life in the mermaid's lagoon and made her his ally. Or we could tell of the cake the pirates cooked, So the boys might eat it and perish, And how they placed it in one cunning spot after another, But always Wendy snatched it from the hands of her children, So that in time it lost its succulents and became as hard as a stone and was used as a missile and Hook fell over it in the dark. Or suppose we tell of the birds that were Peter's friends, Particularly of the neverbird that built in a tree overhanging the lagoon and how the nest fell into the water and still the bird sat on her eggs. And Peter gave order she was not to be disturbed. That is a pretty story, And the end shows how grateful a bird can be. But if we tell it we must also tell the whole adventure of the lagoon, Which would of course be telling two adventures rather than just one. A shorter adventure, And quite as exciting, Was Tinkerbell's attempt, With the help of some street fairies, To have the sleeping Wendy conveyed on a great floating leaf to the mainland. Fortunately the leaf gave way and Wendy woke up, Thinking it was bath time, And she swam back. Or again we might choose Peter's defiance of the lions when he drew a circle round him on the ground with an arrow and defied them to cross it. Though he waited for hours with the other boys and Wendy looking on breathlessly from the tree, Not one of them dared to accept his challenge. Which one of these adventures shall we choose? The best way will be to toss for it. Okay, I have tossed and the lagoon has won. This almost makes one wish the gulch or the cake or Tink's leaf had won. But of course I could do it again and make it best out of three. However, Perhaps fair is to stick to the lagoon. Chapter Eight The Mermaid's Lagoon If you shut your eyes, And are lucky, You might see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness. Then if you squeeze your eyes tighter the pool begins to take shape and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire. But just before they go on fire you see the lagoon. This is the nearest you ever get to see it on the mainland. Just one heavenly moment. If there could be two moments you might see the surf and hear the mermaids sing. The children often spent long summer days on this lagoon, Swimming or floating most of the time, Playing the mermaid games in the water and so forth. You must not think from this that the mermaids were on friendly terms. On the contrary, It was among Wendy's lasting regrets that all the time she was on the island she never had a civil word from one of them. When she spoke softly to the edge of the lagoon she might see them by the score, Especially on Maroona's Rock where they loved to bask, Combing out their hair in a lazy way that quite irritated her. Or she might even swim, Or tiptoe as it were, To within a yard of them. But then they saw her and dived, Probably splashing her with their tails, Not by accident but intentionally. They treated all the boys in the same way, Except of course Peter who chatted with them on Maroona's Rock by the hour and sat on their tails when they got cheeky. He gave Wendy one of their combs. The most haunting time to see the mermaids is at the turn of the moon. Then they utter strange wailing cries. The lagoon is dangerous for mortals then, And until the evening of which we have now to tell, Wendy had never seen the lagoon by moonlight, Less from fear, For of course Peter would have accompanied her and she had strict rules about everyone being in bed by seven. She was often at the lagoon however on sunny days after rain when the mermaids came up in extraordinary numbers to play with their bubbles. The bubbles of many colours made in rainbow water they treat as balls. They hit them gaily from one to another with their tails and try to keep them in the rainbow until they burst. The goals are at each end of the rainbow and the keepers only are allowed to use their hands. Sometimes hundreds of mermaids will be playing in the lagoon at any one time. It is quite a pretty sight. But the moment the children try to join in, They had to play by themselves. For at that moment the mermaids immediately disappeared. It must have been rather pretty to see the children resting on a rock for half an hour after their midday meal. Wendy insisted on doing this and it had to be a real rest even though the meal was make-believe. So there they sat in the sun when their bodies glistened in it while she sat beside them and looked important. It was not long before night came and something as dark as night had come with it. It had sent a shiver through the sea to say it was coming but what was it? She should have roused the children at once not merely because of the unknown that was stalking toward them but because it was no longer good for them to sleep on a rock that had grown chilly. She was a young mother however and did not know this. It was well for those boys then that there was one among them who could sniff danger even in his sleep. Peter sprang erect as if he was a dog and with one warming cry he roused the others. Pirates! He cried and the others came closer to him. Dive! They all became sharp and incisive but all they could do was stand ready to obey. The boat drew nearer. It was the pirate dinghy with three figures in her Smee and Starkey and the third captive no other than Tiger Lily. Her hands and ankles were tied and she knew what was to be her fate. She was to be left on the rock to perish, An end to one of her race more terrible than death by fire or torture. For is it not written in the book of the tribe that there is no path through water to the happy hunting ground? Yet her face was impassive. She was the daughter of a chief. She must die as a chief's daughter. It is enough. They had caught her boarding the pirate ship with a knife in her mouth. No watch was kept on the ship. It being Hook's boast that the wind of his name guarded the ship for a mile around. Now her fate would help to guard it also. One more whale would go the round in that wind by night. In the gloom that they brought with them, The two pirates did not see the rock till they crashed into it. Laugh you lover, Cried an Irish voice that was Smee's, Is the rock now then. What we have to do is hoist the red skin onto it and leave her there to drown. It was the work of one brutal moment to land the beautiful girl on the rock. She was too proud to offer a vain resistance. Quite near the rock but out of sight, Two heads were bobbing up and down. Peter and Wendy's. Wendy was crying for it was the first tragedy she'd ever seen. Peter had seen many tragedies but he'd forgotten them all. He was less sorry than Wendy for Tiger Lily. It was two against one that angered him and he meant to save her. An easy way would have been to wait until the pirates had gone but he was never one to choose the easy way. There was almost nothing he could do and he now imitated the voice of Hook. Oi there you lovers, He called. It was a marvellous imitation. Captain, Said the pirates, Staring at each other. He must be swimming out to us, Starkey said when they'd looked for him in vain. We're putting the redskin on the rock, Smee called out. Set her free, Came the astonishing answer. Free? Yes, Cut her bonds and let her go. But Captain, At once you're here or I'll plunge my hook into you. This is queer, Smee gasped. Better do what the captain ordered, Said Starkey. Aye, Aye, Said Smee and he cut Tiger Lily's cords. At once, Like an eagle, She slid between Starkey's legs into the water. Of course, Wendy was very elated over Peter's cleverness but she knew he would be elated also and very likely crow and thus betray himself. So at once her hand went out to cover his mouth. But it was stayed even in the act for boat to hoi. Peter rang over the lagoon in Hook's voice. And this time it was not Peter who had spoken. Peter may have been about to crow but his face puckered in a whistle of surprise instead. Boat to hoi, Again came the cry. Now Wendy understood. The real Hook was also in the water. He was swimming to the boat and as his men showed a light to guide him, He had soon reached them. And in the light of the lantern Wendy saw his hook grip the boat's side. She saw his evil swarthy face as he rose dripping from the water and quaking she would have liked to swim away but Peter would not barge. He was tingling with life and also top-heavy with conceit. Am I not a wonder? Oh, Am I a wonder? He whispered to her. And though she thought so also she was really glad for the sake of his reputation that no one heard it except herself. Peter signed her to listen. The two pirates were very curious to know what had brought their captain to them but he sat with his head on his hook in a position of profound melancholy. Captain, All is well? They asked timidly. But he answered with a hollow moan. Me sighs, Said Smee. Me sighs again, Said Starkey. And yet a third time. What's up, Captain? Then at last Captain Hook spoke passionately. The game's up, He cried. Those boys have found a mother. Afrighted though she was, Wendy swelled with pride. Oh, Evil day, Cried Starkey. What's a mother? Added the ignorant Smee. Wendy was so shocked that she exclaimed, He doesn't know. And always after this she felt that if you could have a pet pirate, Smee would be her one. Peter pulled her beneath the water for Hook had started up crying. What was that? I heard nothing, Said Starkey raising the lantern. As the pirates looked over the waters, They saw a strange sight. It was the nest I've told you of floating on the lagoon and the neverbird was sitting on it. See, Said Hook in answer to Smee's question, That is a mother. What a lesson. The nest must have fallen into the water, But would the mother desert her eggs? No. There was a break in his voice, As if for a moment he recalled innocent days when. . . But he brushed away this weakness with his hook. Smee, Much impressed, Gazed at the bird as the nest was born past. But the more suspicious Starkey said, If she's a mother, Perhaps she's hanging about here to help Peter. Hook winced. Aye, He said, That is the fear that haunts me. He was roused from this dejection by Smee's eager voice. Captain, Said Smee, Could we not kidnap the boy's mother and make her our mother? It's a princely scheme, Cried Hook, And at once it took practical shape in his great brain. We will seize the children and carry them to the boat. The boys will make walk the plank and Wendy shall be our mother. Again Wendy forgot herself. Never, She cried and bobbed. What was that? But the pirates could see nothing. They thought it must have been a leaf in the wind. Do you agree, My bullies? Asked Hook. There's my hand on it, They both said. And there's my hook, Now swear. They all swore. By this time they were on the rock and suddenly Hook remembered Tiger Lily. Where's the red skin? He had a playful humour at moments and they thought this was one of those moments. That's all right, Captain, Smee answered. We let her go. Let her go? It was your own orders. You called over the water to us to let her go. Brimstone and Gore, What on earth is this? Hook's face was black with rage, But he saw they believed their words and he was startled. Lads, He said, Shaking a little. I gave no such order. It's passing queer, Said Smee, And they all fidgeted uncomfortably. Spirit that haunts this dark lagoon tonight, Continued Hook. Does he hear me? Of course, At this, Peter should have kept quiet, But he did not. He immediately answered in Hook's voice. Odds, Bods, Hammer and tongs, I hear you. In that supreme moment, Hook did not blush, Even at the gills. But Smee and Starkey clung to each other in terror. Who are you, Stranger? Speak, Hook demanded. I'm James Hook, Replied the voice captain of the Jolly Roger. You are not, Hook cried hoarsely. Brimstone and Gore, The voice retorted, Say that again and I'll cast anchor in you. Hook tried a more ingratiating manner. If you are Hook, He said almost humbly, Then tell me, Who am I? A codfish, Replied the voice, Only a codfish. A codfish? Hook echoed blankly. And it was then that his proud spirit broke. He saw his men draw back from him. Have we been captained all this time by a codfish? They muttered. It's lowering to our pride. Now in Hook's dark nature there was a touch of the feminine as in all the great pirates. And it sometimes gave him intuitions. Hook, He called, Have you another voice? Now Peter could never resist again and he answered blithely. I have, In his own voice. And another name? I. Vegetable, Asked Hook. No. Mineral. No. Animal. Yes. Man. No. Boy. Yes. Ordinary boy. No. Wonderful boy. To Penny's pain the answer that rang out this time was yes. Are you in England? No. Are you here? Yes. But none of the pirates could guess who he was. And of course in Peter's pride he was carrying the game too far. Well, He cried suddenly, I am Peter Pan. Pan? In a moment Hook was himself again and Smee and Starkey were his faithful henchmen. Now we have him, Hook shouted. Into the water, Smee. Starkey, Mind the boat. Take him, Dead or alive. The fight was short and sharp. First to draw blood was John who gallantly climbed into the boat and held Starkey. There was a fierce struggle in which the cutlass was torn from the pirate's grasp. He wiggled overboard and John leapt after him. The dinghy drifted away. Here and there a head bobbed up in the water and there was a flash of steel followed by a cry or a whoop. In the confusion some struck at their own side. The corkscrew of Smee got toodles in the fourth rim but he himself was pinked in turn by Curly. Farther from the rock Starkey was pressing slightly and the twins hard. But where was Peter? He was seeking bigger game. The others were all brave boys and they must not be blamed for backing from the pirate captain. His iron claw made a circle of dead water round him from which they fled like affrighted fishes. But there was one who did not fear him. One prepared to enter the circle. Strangely it was not in the water they met. Hook rose to the rock to breathe and at the same moment Peter scaled it on the opposite side. The rock was as slippery as a ball and they had to crawl rather than climb. Neither knew the other was coming. Each feeling for a grip met the other's arm and in surprise they raised their heads. Their faces were almost touching. Some of the greatest heroes have confessed that just before they fell they had a sinking. Had it been so with Peter at that moment I would admit it. After all this was the only man that Cook had feared. But Peter had no sinking. He had one feeling only, Gladness and he gnashed his pretty teeth with joy. Quick as a thought he snatched a knife from Hook's belt and was about to drive it home when he saw he was higher up the rock than his foe. This would not have been fighting fair so he gave the pirate a hand to help him up. It was then that Hook bit him. Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again but never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness. No one except Peter. He often met it but he always forgot. I suppose that was the real difference between him and all the rest. When he met it now it was like the first time and he could just stare helpless. Twice the iron hand clawed him and after a few minutes the other boys saw Hook in the water striking wildly for the ship. No relation on his pestilent face now only white fear for the crocodile was in dogged pursuit of him. On ordinary occasions the boys would have swum alongside cheering but now they were uneasy. But they had lost both Peter and Wendy and were scouring the lagoon for them calling Peter, Wendy as they went. But no answer came save mocking laughter from the mermaids. They must be swimming back or flying the boys concluded. They were not very anxious because they had such faith in Peter. And when their voices died away there came a cold silence over the lagoon and then a feeble cry. Help! There were two small figures beating against the rock. The girl fainted and now she lay on the boys arm. Peter knew they would soon be drowned but he could do no more. As they lay side by side a mermaid caught Wendy by the feet and began pulling her softly into the water. Feeling her slip from him Peter woke with a start and was just in time to draw her back. We're on the rock Wendy he said but it's growing smaller soon the water will be over it. We must go said Wendy. Yes he answered. Shall we swim or fly Peter? Do you think you could swim or fly as far as the island Wendy without my help? Wendy had to admit she was far too tired. Peter moaned. What is it? She asked anxious. I can't help you Wendy. Hook wounded me and I can't neither fly nor swim. Do you mean we should both be drowned? Look how the water's rising. They put their hands over their eyes to shut out the sight. They thought they would soon be no more. And as they sat thus something brushed against Peter as light as a kiss and stayed there as if saying timidly. Can I be of any use? It was the tail of a kite which Michael had made some days before. It had torn itself out of his hand and floated away. It's Michael's kite said Peter. Then the next moment he'd seized the tail and was pulling the kite towards him. It lifted Michael off the ground he cried. Why shouldn't it carry you? Why shouldn't it carry both of us? Said Wendy. No it can't lift two. Michael and Curly tried. Let's draw lots said Wendy bravely. And you a lady? Never. Already Peter had tied the tail around her. She clung to him and refused to go without him. But with a goodbye Wendy Peter pushed her from the rock and in a few minutes she was born out of his sight. Now he was alone on the lagoon. The rock seemed very small. Soon it would be submerged. As he watched pale rays of light tiptoed across the waters. And by and by there was to be heard a sound. At once the most musical and the most melancholy in the world. It was the mermaids calling to the moon. Peter was not quite like other boys. But this time he felt afraid. A tremor ran through him like a shudder passing over the sea. But on the sea one shudder follows another until there are hundreds of them. And Peter just felt the one. The next moment he was standing erect on the rock again with that smile on his face and a drum beating in his heart. It was saying to die will be an awfully big adventure. The last sounds Peter heard before he was quite alone were the mermaids retiring one by one to their bed chambers under the sea. He was too far away to hear their doors shut. But every door in the coral caves where they live rings a tiny bell when it opens or closes. And he heard the bells. Steadily the waters rose till they were nibbling at his feet. And to pass the time until they made their final gulp. Peter watched the only thing moving on the lagoon. He thought it was a piece of paper. Perhaps part of the kite and wondered idly how long it would take to drift ashore. Presently he noticed an odd thing. It was undoubtedly out upon the lagoon with some definite purpose for it was fighting the tide and sometimes winning. Peter always sympathetic to the weaker side could not help clapping. What a gallon piece of paper. But it was not really a piece of paper. It was the nether bird making desperate efforts to reach Peter on her nest. By working her wings in a way she'd learned since the nest fell into the water. She was able to some extent guide her strange craft. But by the time Peter recognized her she was very exhausted. She had come to save him to give him her nest though there were eggs in it. I'd rather wonder at the bird for though Peter had been nice to her. He'd also sometimes tormented her. I suppose only like Mrs. Darling and the rest of them. The bird was melted because Peter still had all his first teeth. She called out to him and he called out to her. What are you doing there? He said. But of course neither of them understood the other's language. In fanciful stories people can talk to the birds freely. And I wish for the moment I could pretend this was such a story. But truth is best and I want to tell you what really happened. I want you to get into the nest. The bird called speaking as slowly and distinctly as possible. Then you can drift ashore. But I am too tired to bring it any nearer. You must try to swim. What are you quacking about? Peter answered. Why don't you let the nest drift as usual? And their conversation went back and forth like this. Nevertheless the bird was determined to save him. And by one last mighty effort she propelled the nest against the rock. Then she flew up, Deserted her eggs and made her meaning clear. At last Peter understood and was grateful. And watching the bird as she flew up and fluttered overhead he thanked her for saving him from a fate worse than death. There were two large white eggs and Peter lifted them up and reflected. The bird covered her face with her wings so as not to see the last of them but she could not help peeping between her feathers. I forget whether I told you there was a stave on the rock driven into it by some buccaneers of long ago to mark the site of buried treasure. The children had discovered the glittering hoard and when in mischievous mood used to fling showers of diamonds, Pearls and pieces of eight to the gulls who pounced upon them for food and then flew away raging at the scurvy trick that had been played upon them. The stave was still there and on it Starkey had hung his hat a deep, Tarpauline, Watertight, With a broad brim. Peter put the eggs into this hat and set it onto the lagoon. It floated beautifully. The netherbird saw at once what he was up to and screamed her admiration and alas Peter crowed his agreement with her. Then he got into the nest, Reared the stave in it as a mast and hung up his shirt for a sail. At the same moment the bird fluttered down upon the hat and sat snugly on her eggs. She drifted in one direction and Peter was borne off in another, Both cheering at the same time. Great were the rejoicings when Peter reached the home under the ground almost as soon as Wendy who had been carried hither and thither by the kite. Every boy had adventures to tell but perhaps the biggest of all was that they were several hours late for bed. This so inflated them they did various dodgy things to get staying up still longer such as demanding bandages. But Wendy, Though glorying in having them all home again safe and sound was scandalised by the lateness of the hour and cried to bed, To bed, In a voice that had to be obeyed. Next day however she was awfully tender and gave out bandages to everyone and they played till bedtime at limping about and carrying their arms in slings. One important result of the brush on the lagoon was that it made the redskins their friends. Peter had saved Tiger Lily from a dreadful fate and now there was nothing she and her braves would not do for him. At night they sat above ground keeping watch over their home awaiting the big attack by the pirates which obviously could not be much longer delayed. Even by day they hung about smoking the pipe of peace and looking almost as if they wanted titbits to eat. They called Peter the Great White Father, Frustrating themselves before him and he liked this tremendously so that it was not really too good for him. The Great White Father, He would say to them in a very lordly manner as they groaned at his feet. Me Tiger Lily? Tiger Lily would reply. Peter Pan saved me, His very nice friend. Me nor let pirates hurt him. She was far too pretty to cringe in this way but Peter thought it his due and he would answer condescendingly. It's good, Peter Pan has spoken. That meant they must now shut up and they accepted it humbly in that spirit but they were by no means so respectful to the other boys. They looked at those as just ordinary braves. How do? They said to them and things like that. What annoyed the boys was that Peter seemed to think this was all right. Secretly Wendy sympathised with them a little but she was far too loyal a housewife to listen to any complaints against Father. Father knows best, She always said. Her private opinion was that the Redskins should not call her a squaw. We have now reached the evening that was to be known among them as the Night of Nights. The day as if quietly gathering its forces had been almost uneventful and now the Redskins in their blankets were at their posts above. The children below were having their evening meal. Peter had gone out to get the time. The way you got the time on the island was to find the crocodile and stay near him until the clock struck. The meal happened to be a make-believe tea and the children sat round the board guzzling in their greed and really what with all the chatter and recriminations the noise as Wendy said was positively deafening. To be sure she did not mind noise but she simply would not have them grabbing things and then excusing themselves by saying that Tootles had pushed their elbow. There was a fixed rule they must never hit back at meals. Silence cried Wendy when for the twentieth time she told them they were not all to speak at once. Is your calabash empty slightly darling? Not quite empty mummy, Slightly said after looking into an imaginary mug. He hasn't even been able to drink his milk, Nibs interposed. Then slightly seized his chance. I complain of Nibs, He cried promptly. John however held up his hand first. Well John, May I sit in Peter's chair as he's not here? Sit in father's chair John. Wendy was scandalised, Certainly not. It's not really our father, John answered. He didn't even know how a father does until I showed him. We complain of John, Cried the twins. Tootles held up his hand. He was so much the humblest of them. He was the only humble one indeed that Wendy was specially gentle with him. I don't suppose, He said diffidently, That I could be father. No Tootles. Suddenly there was a step above and Wendy was the first to recognise it. Children, I can hear your father's steps. He likes you to meet him at the door. Above the red skins crouched before Peter. Well, Braves, I have spoken. He had brought nuts for the boys as well as the correct time for Wendy. Peter, You just spoil them, You know, Wendy simpered. Then Wendy told the boys they could dance but they must put on their nighties first. Ah, Old lady, Peter said aside to Wendy warming himself by the fire and looking down at her as she sat turning a heel. There's nothing more pleasant of an evening for you and me when the day's toil is over than to rest by the fire with the little ones nearby. It is sweet, Peter, Isn't it? Said Wendy, Frightfully gratified. Peter, I think Curly has your nose. Michael takes after you. Dear Peter, Said Wendy, With such a large family I have now passed my best but you don't want to change me, Do you? No, Wendy. Certainly Peter Pan did not want to change but he looked at Wendy uncomfortably, Blinking like one not sure whether he was awake or asleep. Peter, What is it? Said Wendy. I was just thinking, He said a little scared. This is only make-believe, Isn't it, That I'm their father? Oh, Yes, Said Wendy primly. You see, It would make me seem so old to be their real father. But they are ours, Peter, Yours and mine. But not really, Wendy, He added anxiously. Not if you don't wish it. Peter, What are your exact feelings for me? Those of a devoted son, Wendy. I thought so, She said. You're so queer, He said, Puzzled. Tiger Lily's just the same. There's something she wants me to be but she says it's not my mother. No, Indeed it is not, Wendy replied with frightful emphasis. Now we know why she was prejudiced against the Redskins. Then what is it? It isn't for a lady to tell. Very well, Said Peter, A little nettled. Perhaps Tinkerbell will tell me. Oh, Yes, Tinkerbell will tell you, Wendy retorted. She is an abandoned little creature. Here, Tinkerbell, Who was in her boudoir eavesdropping, Squeaked out something impudent. She says she glories in being abandoned, Peter interpreted. Perhaps Tink wants to be my mother. You silly hess, Cried Tinkerbell in a passion. I almost agree with her, Wendy snapped. If she had known, She would not have snapped. But none of them knew. Perhaps it was best not to know. Their ignorance gave them one more glad hour and as it was to be their last hour on the island, Let us rejoice there were sixty glad minutes in it. They sang and danced in their nightgowns. A deliciously creepy song it was, Too, In which they pretended to be frightened of their own shadows. Then the stories they told, Before it was time for Wendy's goodnight story. And at last they all got to bed. For Wendy's story, The story they loved best, Set them off to sleep. As Peter, Remaining on his stall, Thought about what was to come. Listen then, Said Wendy, Settling down to her story with Michael at her feet and seven boys in the bed. There was once a gentleman. I'd rather he'd been a lady, Said Curly. I wish he'd been a white rat, Said Nibs. Quiet, Their mother admonished them. There was a lady also, And. . . Oh, Mummy, Cried the first twin. You mean there's a lady also, Don't you? She's not dead, Is she? Oh, No. I'm awfully glad she isn't dead. Are you glad, John? Of course I am. Are you glad, Nibs? Rather. Are you glad, Twins? We're just glad. Oh, Dear, Sighed Wendy. Little less noise there, Peter called out, Determined she should have fair play, However beastly a story it might be in his opinion. The gentleman's name, Continued Wendy, Was Mr Darling, And her name was Mrs Darling. I knew them, Said John. I think I know them, Said Michael. They were married, You know, And what do you think they had, Explained Wendy. White rats, Cried Nibs. No. It's awfully puzzling, Said Tootles. Quiet, Tootles, They had three descendants. What's descendants? Well, You're one. Do you hear that, John? I'm a descendant. Descendants are only children. Oh, Dear, Oh, Dear, Sighed Wendy. Now, These three children had a faithful nurse called Nana, But Mr Darling was angry with her and they chained her up in the yard and so all the children flew away. It's an awfully good story, Said Nibs. They flew away, Continued Wendy, To the Neverland where the lost children are. I just thought they did, Early broke him. I don't know how it is, But I just thought they did. Oh, Wendy, Cried Tootles, Was one of the lost children called Tootles? Yes, He was. I'm in a story, Hooray, I'm in a story, Nibs. Hush now, I want you to consider the feelings of the unhappy parents with all their children flown away. Oh, They all moaned, Though they were not really considering the feelings of the unhappy parents. Think of all the empty beds. It's awful sad. I don't see how it can have a happy ending. Do you, Nibs? I'm frightfully anxious. If you knew how great is a mother's love, Wendy told them triumphantly, You would have no fear. She had now come to the part that Peter hated. I do like a mother's love, Said Tootles. Do you like a mother's love? I do just, Said Nibs, Hitting back. You see, Wendy said complacently, Our heroine knew the mother would always leave the window open for her children to fly back. So they stayed away for years and they had a lovely time. Did they ever go back? Let us now, Said Wendy, Bracing herself for her finest effort, Take a peep into the future. Years have rolled by, And who is this elegant lady of uncertain age alighting at London Station? Wendy, Who is she? Cried Nibs. Can it be? No. Yes. The fair Wendy. Oh. And who are those two noble portly figures accompanying her? Can they be John and Michael? They are. Oh. See, Dear brothers, Said Wendy, Pointing upwards, There's a window still standing open. And now we're rewarded for our sublime faith in a mother's love. That was the story, And they were as pleased with it as the fair narrator herself. Everything just as it should be, You see. Off we skip like the most heartless things in the world, Which is what children are, But so attractive. And we have an entirely selfish time. And then when we have need of special attention, We nobly return for it, Confident we shall be embraced instead of smacked. So great indeed was their faith in a mother's love that they felt they could afford to be callous for a bit longer. But there was one who knew better. And when Wendy finished, He uttered a hollow groan. What is it, Peter? She cried, Running to him, Thinking he was ill. What is it? Wendy, You're wrong about mothers. They all gathered round Peter in fright. So alarming was his agitation. Long ago, He said, I thought like you that my mother would always keep the window open for me. So I stayed away for moons and moons and moons. And then I flew back. But the window was barred. Mother had forgotten all about me and there was another little boy sleeping in my bed. I'm not sure that this was true, But Peter thought it was true and it scared. Are you sure mothers are like that? Yes. So this was the truth about mothers, The totes. Wendy, Let us go home, Cried John and Michael together. Yes, She said, Clutching them. Not tonight, Asked the lost boys, Bewildered. They knew in what they called their hearts that one can get on quite well without a mother and it's only the mothers that think that they can't. At once, Wendy replied resolutely, The horrible thought had come to her. Perhaps Mother is in half mourning by this time. This dread made her forgetful of what must be Peter's feelings and she said to him rather sharply, Peter, Will you make the necessary arrangements? If you wish it, He replied, As coolly as if she had asked him to pass the nuts. Not so much as a harsh sorry to lose you between them. Even if she did not mind the parting he was going to show her. But of course Peter cared very much and he was so full of wrath against grown-ups who as usual were spoiling everything that as soon as he got inside his tree he breathed intentionally quick short breaths at the rate of about five to a second. He did this because there's a saying in the Neverland that every time you breathe a grown-up dies and Peter was killing them off vindictively as fast as possible. Then having given the necessary instructions to the Redskins he returned to the home where the unworthy scene had been enacted in his absence. Panic-stricken at the thought of losing Wendy the Lost Boys had advanced upon her threateningly. It will be worse than before she came, They cried. We shan't let her go, Let's keep her a prisoner. Chain her up. Grandly, However, Tootles responded. For that one moment he dropped his silliness and spoke with dignity. I am just Tootles, He said, And nobody minds me but the first who does not behave to Wendy like an English gentleman I will blood him severely. He drew his hanger and for that instance his son was at noon. The others held back. Then Peter returned and they saw at once they would get no support from him. He would keep no girl in the Neverland against her will. Wendy, He said, Striding up and down I have asked the Redskins to guide you through the wood. Thank you, Peter. Then, He continued in a short, Sharp voice Tinkerbell will take you across the sea. Wake her up, Nibs. Nibs had to knock twice before he got an answer although Tinkerbell had really been sitting up in bed listening to everything. Who are you? How dare you go away? She cried. You've got to get up, Tink, Called Nibs. Take Wendy on a journey. Of course Tinkerbell had been delighted to hear Wendy was going but she was jolly well determined not to be her courier and she said so in still more offensive language. She says she won't, Nibs exclaimed whereupon Peter went sternly towards the young lady's chamber. Tink, He rapped out, If you don't get up and dress at once I'll open the curtains and then we shall all see you in your negligee. This made her leap to the floor. Who said I wasn't getting up? She cried. In the meantime, The boys gazed very forlornly at Wendy now equipped with John and Michael for the journey. By this time they were dejected not merely because they were about to lose her but also because they felt she was going off to something nice to which they had not been invited. Dear ones, Said Wendy if you would all come with me I feel almost sure I can get my father and mother to adopt you. The invitation was especially meant for Peter but she didn't say that. Won't they think it's rather a handful? Nibs asked. Oh no, Said Wendy, It'll only mean having a few beds in the drawing room they can be hidden behind the screens on first Thursdays. Peter, Can we all go? They cried. Oh right, Peter replied with a bitter smile and immediately they rushed to get their things. And now, Peter, Said Wendy thinking she'd put everything right I'm going to give you your medicine before you go. She loved to give them medicine and undoubtedly gave them too much. Of course it was only water but it was out of a calabash and she always shook the calabash and counted the drops which gave it a certain medicinal quality. On this occasion, However she did not give Peter his draft. She saw a look on his face that made her heart sink. Get your things then, Peter, She cried. No, He answered. I'm not going with you, Wendy. Yes, Peter. No. To show that her departure would leave him unmoved Peter skipped down and around the room playing gaily on his hock, His pipes. Wendy had to run about after him although it was rather undignified. You can find your mother, She coaxed. Now if Peter had ever quite had a mother he no longer missed her. He could do very well without one. He'd thought them out and remembered only their bad points. No, He told Wendy decisively. Perhaps she'd say I was old and I just want to be a little boy and have fun. But Peter? No. And so the others had to be told Peter isn't coming. If you find your mothers, Said Peter darkly I hope you'll like them. The awful cynicism of this made an uncomfortable impression and most of the boys began to look rather doubtful. No fuss, No blabbering, Continued Peter. Goodbye Wendy. And he held out his hand cheerily as if they really must go now for he had something important to do. Wendy had to take his hand as there was no indication he would prefer a thimble. You will remember about changing your flannels, Peter, She said. She was always so particular about their flannels. Yes. And you will take your medicine. Yes. That seemed to be everything and an awkward pause followed. Peter, However, Was not the kind that breaks down before people. Are you ready, Tinkerbell? He called. Then lead the way. Tink darted up the nearest tree but no one followed for it was at this moment that the pirates made their dreadful attack upon the Redskins. Above, Where all had been so still, The air was rent with shrieks and a clash of steel. Below there was a dead silence. Mouths opened and remained open. Wendy fell on her knees but her arms were extended towards Peter. All arms were extended to him as if suddenly blown in his direction. They were beseeching him mutely not to desert them. As for Peter Pan, He seized his sword the same he thought he had slain Barbecue with and the lust of battle was in his eye. The pirate attack had been a complete surprise. A sure proof the unscrupulous hook had conducted it improperly for to surprise Redskins fairly is beyond the wit of the white man. By all the unwritten laws of savage warfare it's always the Redskin who attacks and with the wiliness of his race he does it just before dawn at which time he knows the courage of the whites to be at its lowest ebb. The white men have in the meantime made a rude stockade on the summit of yonder undulating ground at the foot of which a stream runs for it is destruction to be too far from water. There they await the onslaught the inexperienced ones clutching their revolvers and treading on twigs but the old hands sleeping tranquilly until just before dawn. Through the long black night the savage scouts wriggle snake-like among the grass without stirring a blade. The brushwood closes behind them as silently as sand into which a mole has dived. Not a sound is to be heard save when they give vent to a wonderful imitation of the lonely call of the coyote. The cry is then answered by other braves and some of them do it even better than the coyotes who are not very good and so the chill hours wear on. The long suspense is horribly trying to the pale face who has to live through it for the first time, But to the trained hand those ghastly calls and even ghastliest silences are but an intimation of how the night is marching. That this was the usual procedure was so well known to Hook that in disregarding it he cannot be excused on the plea of ignorance. The Paganinis on their part trusted implicitly to his honour and their whole action of the night stands out in marked contrast to his. With that alertness of the senses, Which is at once the marvel and despair of civilised peoples, They knew the pirates were on the island from the moment one of them trod on a dry stick. Every foot of ground between the spot where Hook had landed his forces and the home under the trees was stealthily examined by braves wearing their moccasins with the heels in front. They found only one hillock with a stream at its base, So that Hook had no choice. Here he must establish himself and wait for just before dawn. Here, Dreaming though wide awake of the exquisite tortures to which they were to put him at break of day, Those confiding savages were found by the treacherous Hook. From the accounts afterwards supplied by such of the scouts as escaped the carnage, He does not seem to have paused at the rising ground, Though it's certain that in the grey light he must have seen it. No thought of waiting to be attacked appears from first to last to have visited his subtle mind. He would not even hold off until the night was nearly spent. On he pounded with no policy but to fall to. Around the brave Tiger Lily were a dozen of stoutest warriors and they suddenly saw the perfidious pirates bearing down upon them. Fell from their eyes then the film through which they looked at victory. No more would they torture at the stake. For them the happy hunting grounds now they knew it but as their father's sons they acquitted themselves. Even then they had time to gather in the phalanx that would have been hard to break had they risen quickly, But this they were forbidden to do by the traditions of their race. Thus terrible as the sudden appearance of the pirates must have been to them, They remained stationary for a moment, Not a muscle moving, As if the foe had come by invitation. Then indeed the tradition gallantly upheld. They seized their weapons and the air was torn with a war cry but it was now too late. It is no part of ours to describe what was a massacre. Thus perished many of the flower of the Picaninny tribe. Not all avenged did they die for with lean wolf fell Alf Mason to disturb the Spanish main no more and among others who bit the dust were Geo, Scowrie, Chaz, Turley and the Alsatian Fogarty. Turley fell to the tomahawk of the terrible panther who ultimately cut away through the pirates with Tiger Lily and a small remnant of the tribe. To what extent Hook is to blame for his tactics on this occasion is for the historian to decide. Had he waited on the rising ground till the proper hour he and his men would probably have been butchered. In judging him it is only fair to take this into account. What he should perhaps have done was to acquaint his opponents he proposed to follow a new method. On the other hand this as destroying the element of surprise would have made his strategy of no avail. And what were his own feelings about himself at that triumphant moment? Elation must have been in his heart but his face did not reflect it. Ever a dark and solitary enigma he stood aloof from his followers in spirit as in substance. The night's work was not yet over. It was not the redskins he had come to destroy. They were but the bees to be smoked so he should get to the honey. Peter was such a small boy one tends to wonder at the man's hatred of him. True he had flung Hook's arm to the crocodile but even this and the increased insecurity of life to which it led owing to the crocodile's personality hardly account for a vindictiveness so relentless and malignant. The truth was there was something about Peter that goaded the pirate captain to frenzy. There's no beating about the bush it was Peter's cockiness. This had got on Hook's nerves. It made his iron claw twitch and at night it disturbed him like an insect. While Peter Pan lived the tortured Hook felt he was a lion in a cage into which a sparrow had come. The question was now how to get down the trees or get his dogs down. He ran his greedy eyes over them searching for the thinnest ones. They wriggled uncomfortably for they knew he would not scruple to run down with poles. But what of the boys? We've seen them in the first hang of the weapons all appearing with outstretched arms to Peter. And now we return to them as their mouths close and their arms fall. The pandemonium had ceased but they knew in the passing it determined their fate. Which side had won? The pirates listening avidly at the mouths of the trees heard the question put by every boy and alas they also heard Peter's answer. If the Redskins have won, He said, They'll beat the Tom Tom. It's always their sign of victory. Now Smee had found the Tom Tom and was at that moment sitting on it. You will never hear the Tom Tom again, He muttered but inaudibly of course for strict silence had been enjoined. To his amazement Captain Hook signed him to beat the Tom Tom and slowly there came to Smee an understanding of the dreadful wickedness of the order. Never probably had this simple man admired Captain Hook so much. Twice he beat upon the instrument and then he stopped to listen gleefully. The Tom Tom, Peter cried, It's an Indian victory and the doomed children answered with a cheer that was music to the black hearts above. Almost immediately they repeated their goodbyes to Peter. This puzzled the pirates but all the other feelings was followed by a base delight that the enemy were about to come up the trees. They smirked at each other and rubbed their hands. Rapidly and silently Hook gave his orders, One man to each tree and the others to arrange themselves in a line two yards apart. The more quickly this horror is disposed of the better. The first to emerge from the tree was Curly. He rose out of it into the arms of Kecko who flung him to Smee, Who flung him to Starkey, Who flung him to Bill Jukes, Who flung him to Noodler. And so he was tossed from one to another until he fell plucked from their trees in this ruthless manner and several of them were in the air at the same time. A different treatment was accorded to Wendy. She came last. With ironical politeness Hook raised his hat to her and offering her his arm escorted her to the spot where the others were being gagged. He did it with such an air that she was too fascinated to cry out. She was only a little girl. Perhaps it is telling tales to say that Hook entranced her. Had she haughtily unhanded him she would have been hurled through the air like the others. And then Hook would probably not have been present at the tying of the children and had he not been present at the tying he would have not have discovered Slighty's secret. Without that secret he couldn't presently have made his foul attempt on Peter's life. They were tied up to prevent them flying away. Doubled up with their knees close to their ears. And for the trussing of them the Black Pirate cut a rope into nine equal pieces. All went well until Slightly's turn came. He was to be found like those irritating parcels that use up all the string in going round and leaving no tags with which to tie a knot. The pirates kicked him in their rage. And strange to say it was Hook who told them to stop. His lip was curled with malice. But while his dogs were merely sweating every time they tried to pack the unhappy lag tight in one part, Slightly bulged out in another. Hook's mastermind had gone far beneath Slighty's service. Probing not for efforts but for causes. Slighty, White to the gills, Knew Hook had surprised his secret which was this. No boy so blown out could use a tree wherein an average man would need a stick. Poor Slighty, Almost wretched of all the children now, Was in a panic about Peter, Bitterly regretting what he'd done. Madly addicted to the drinking of water when he was hot, He'd swelled in consequence to his present girth. And instead of reducing himself to fit the tree he had, He whittled the tree to make it fit him. Sufficient of this, Hook guessed to persuade him that Peter at last lay at his mercy. But no word of the dark design that now formed in the subterranean caverns of his mind crossed his lips. He merely signed the captives were to be conveyed to the ship and he would be alone. But how to convey them? Hunched up in their ropes they might indeed be rolled down the hill like barrels. But again Hook's genius surmounted difficulties. He indicated that the little house must be used as a conveyance. The children were flung into it. Four stout pirates raised it on their shoulders. The others fell in behind. And singing the hateful pirate chorus, The strange procession set off through the wood. I don't know whether any of the children were crying, But if so, The singing drowned them out. As the little house disappeared in the forest, A brave though tiny jet of smoke issued from its chimney. Hook saw it and it did Peter a bad service. It dried up any trickle of pity for him that might have remained in the pirate's breast. Captain Hook was now alone. He remained brooding for long, His hat of ill omen on the sword. So that a gentle breeze which had arisen might play refreshingly through his hair. Dark as his thoughts were, His blue eyes were as soft as the periwinkle. He listened intently for any sound from the netherworld, But all was silent below. Was Peter Pan asleep, Or did he stand waiting at the foot of Slightly's tree with a dagger in his hand? There was no way of knowing, Save by going down. Hook let his cloak slip softly to the ground. Then biting his lips, He stepped into the tree. He was a brave man, But for a moment he had to stop there and wipe his brow. Then silently he let himself go into the unknown. He arrived unmolested at the foot of the shaft. As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, He saw Peter on the bed, Fast asleep. Unaware of the tragedy being enacted above, Peter had continued for a little time after the children left to play gaily on his pipes. Then he decided not to take his medicine so as to grieve Wendy and lay down on the bed to vex her still more. Sometimes, Though not often, He had dreams and they were more painful than the dreams of other boys. They had to do, Though, I think, With the riddle of his existence. At such times it had been Wendy's custom to take him out of bed and sit with him on her lap. But on this occasion he had fallen at once into a sleep. Thus defenceless Hook found him. Now Hook always carried about his person a dreadful drug lest he should be taken alive. This he had boiled down into a yellow liquid, Quite unknown to science. Which was probably the most virulent poison in existence. Five drops of this he now added to Peter's cup. His hand shook but it was in exultation rather than in shame. Then one long gloating look he cast upon his victim and turning away he wormed his way up with difficulty to the top of the tree. Peter, Meanwhile, Slept on. The light guttered and went out, Leaving the tenement in darkness, But still he slept. It must have been not less than ten o'clock by the crocodile when he suddenly sat up in his bed, Wakened by he knew not what. Who is that? He said, Feeling for his dagger. Who are you? He was thrilled and loved being thrilled. In two strides he reached the door. I won't open unless you speak, He cried. Then at last the visitor spoke in a lovely bell-like voice. Let me in, Peter. It was Tink. She flew in excitedly, Her face flushed and her dress stained with mud. What is it? You can never guess, She cried. And she told him of the capture of Wendy and the boys. I'll rescue her, He cried, Grabbing his weapons. And as he leapt he thought of something he could do to please her. He could take his medicine. His hand closed on the fatal draught. Anything for Wendy. But Tinkerbell knew better than that. No, She shrieked. It's poisoned. Who could have poisoned it? Said Peter. Hook. Don't be silly. How could Hook have got down here? Alas, Tinkerbell could not explain this. For even she did not know the dark secret of Slightly's tree. Nevertheless, Hook's words had left no room for doubt. The cup was poisoned. Peter raised the cup. There was no time for words now. This was time for deeds. And with one of her lightning moments, Tink got between his lips and the draught and drained it to the dregs. Why, Tink, How dare you drink my medicine? But Tink did not answer. Already she was reeling in the air. What's the matter with you? Cried Peter suddenly. I was poisoned, Peter. Now I'm going to be dead. Did you drink it to save me? Yes. But why? Tinkerbell's wings would scarcely carry her now. But in reply she alighted on his shoulder and gave his chin a loving bite. Then tottering to her chamber, She lay down on the bed. Every moment her light was growing fainter. Peter knew if it went out, She would be no more. Tink's voice was now so low, At first he could not make out what she said. And she liked his tears so much that she put out her beautiful finger and let them run over it. She was saying she thought she could get well again if children believed in fairies. Peter flung out his arms. There were no children there and it was night. But he addressed all who might be dreaming of the Neverland and who were there, Therefore, Nearer to him than you might think. Do you believe? He cried. Then Tink sat up in bed to listen to her fate. She fancied she heard answers in the affirmative, But again she wasn't sure. What do you think, Peter? She asked. If you believe, Peter shouted, Clap your hands, Don't let Tinkerbell die. Many children clapped. Some didn't. A few little beasts hissed. Then the clapping stopped suddenly as if countless mothers had rushed to their nurseries to see what on earth was going on. But already Tink was saved. First her voice grew strong. Then the next moment she was flashing through the room more merry and impudent than ever. And now to rescue Wendy, She said. The moon was rising in a cloudy heaven when Peter rose up from the tree. All fit with weapons and wearing little else to set out on his perilous quest. He had hoped to fly, Keeping not far from the ground so nothing unwanted should escape his eyes. But in that fitful light to have flown low would have meant trailing his shadow through the trees, Thus disturbing the birds and acquainting a watchful foe that was already astir. There was no other course but to press forward in red-skinned fashion. But in what direction? A slight fall of snow had obliterated all footmarks and a deathly silence pervaded the island. He had taught the children something of the forest lore he'd himself learned from Tiger, Lily and Tinkerbell. Slightly, If he had an opportunity, Would blaze the trees, For instance. Curly would drop seeds and Wendy would leave her handkerchief. But morning was needed to search for such guidance and Peter could not wait. The upper world had called him, But would give no help. The crocodile passed, But not another living thing, Not a sound, Not a movement. And yet Peter knew well that sudden death might be at the next tree or stalk him from behind. He swore a terrible oath, Hook or may this time. Then he crawled forward like a snake and darted across the space on which the moonlight played, One finger on his lip, His dagger at the ready. It was time. And he was frightfully happy. One green light squinting over Kid's Creek, Which is near the mouth of the Pirate River, Marked where the brig, The jolly ridger, Lay low in the water. A rakish-looking craft fouled the hull. Every beam inherited testicle-like ground strewn with mangled feathers. She was the cannibal of the seas and scarce needed that watchful eye, For she floated immune in the horror of her name. She was wrapped in the blanket of night, Through which no sound from her could have reached the shore. There was little sound and none agreeable save the whirr of the ship's sewing machine in which Smee sat ever industrious and obliging. I know not why he was so infinitely pathetic, Unless it were because he was so pathetically unaware of it. But even strong men had to turn hastily from looking at him, And more than once on summer evenings he touched the fount of Hook's tears and made it flow. Of this, As almost everything else, Smee was quite unconscious. Hook trod the deck in thought. O man unfathomable! It was his hour of triumph. Peter had been removed forever from his path and all the other boys were on the brig about to walk the plank. It was his grimmest deed since the days when he'd brought barbecue to heel, And knowing as we do how vain Tabernacle is man, Could we be surprised he had now paced the deck unsteadily, Bellied out by the winds of his success? But there was no elation in his gait, Which kept pace with the action of his sombre mind. Hook was profoundly dejected. He was often like this when communing with himself. It was because he was so terribly alone. This inscrutable man never felt more than alone when surrounded by his dogs. They were socially so inferior. Hook was not even his true name. To reveal who he really was would even at this date set the country in a blaze. But as those who read Between the Lines must already have guessed, He had been at a famous public school and its traditions still clung to him like garments. Thus it was offensive to him even now to board a ship in the same dress in which he grappled her, And he still adhered in his walk to the school's distinguished slouch. But above all he retained the passion for good form. From far within him he heard a creaking as of rusty portals, And through them came a stern tap-tap-tap like hammering in the night. Have you been good form today? Was their eternal question. Feign that glittering bauble, It is mine, He cried. There came to him a presentiment of his early dissolution. It was as if Peter's terrible oath had boarded the ship. Hook felt a gloomy desire to make his dying speech, Lest presently there should be no time for it. Better for Hook, He cried. If he had less ambition. It was in his darkest hours only he referred to himself in the third person. No little children to love me. Strange that he should think of this, Which had never troubled him before. Perhaps the sewing machine brought it to his mind. For long he muttered to himself staring at Smee, Who was hemming placidly under the conviction that all children feared him. Feared him? Feared Smee? There was not a child on board to break that night who did not already love Smee. He had said horrible things to them and hit them with the palm of his hand, Because he couldn't hit with his fist, But they had only clung to him the more. Michael had even tried on his spectacles. To tell poor Smee they thought him lovable. Hook itched to do it, But it seemed too brutal. Instead he resolved this mystery in his mind. Why do they find Smee lovable? He pursued the problem like the sleuth hound that he was. If Smee was lovable, What was it that made him so? Good form? Had the bosun good form without knowing it? That is the best form of all. With a cry of rage he raised his iron hand over Smee's head, But he did not tear. What arrested him was this reflection. To claw a man because he is good form, What would that be? Bad form. Are all the children chained so they cannot fly away, He called. Aye, Aye, Then hoist them up. The wretched prisoners were dragged from the hold, All except Wendy, And ranged in line in front of him. For a time Hook seemed unconscious of their presence. He was humming, Not unmelodiously, Snatches of a rude song, And fingering a pack of cards. Ever and anon, The light from his cigar gave a touch of colour to his face. Now then, Bullies, He said briskly, Six of you walk the plank tonight, But I have room for two cabin boys. Which of you is it to be? Tootles replied, I don't think my mother would like me to be a pirate. Would your mother like you to be a pirate slightly? Slightly said mournfully, I don't think so, As if he wished things had been otherwise. Would your mother like you to be a pirate, Twin? I don't think so, Said the first twin. Nibs would stow this gab, Roared Hook. You boy, He said, Addressing John, You look as if you'd had a little pluck in you, Did you ever want to be a pirate? Now John had sometimes experienced this hankering at maths prep, And he was struck by Hook's picking him out. I once thought of calling myself Red-Handed Jack, And a good name too. We'll call you that here, If you join. What do you think, Michael? What would you call me if I join? Blackbeard Joe. Michael was impressed. What do you think, John? He wanted John to decide, And John wanted him to decide. Shall we be respectful subjects of the king? John inquired. If you came with me, You'd have to say, Down with the king. Then I refuse, Cried John, Banging about in front of Hook. And I refuse, Cried Michael. Rule Britannia, Squeaked Curly. The infuriated pirates buffeted them in the mouth, And Hook roared, That seals your dome. Bring up their mother, Get the plank ready. They were only boys, And they went white as they saw Dukes preparing the fatal plank, But they tried to look brave when Wendy was brought up. No words of mine can tell you how Wendy despised those pirates. To the boys there was at least some glamour in the pirate calling, But all that she saw was that the ship had not been scrubbed for years. So, My beauty, Said Hook, As he spoke in syrup, You are to see your children walk the plank. Are they to die? Asked Wendy with a look of such frightful contempt. They are, He snarled. What are a mother's last words to her children? These are my last words, Dear boys, Said Wendy firmly. I feel I have a message to you from your real mothers, And it's this. We hope our sons will die like English gentlemen. Even the pirates were awed, And Tootles cried out hysterically, I'm going to do what my mother hopes. What are you going to do, Nibs? What my mother hopes? What do you do, Twin? What my mother hopes? John, What? But Hook had found his voice again. Tie her up, He shouted. It was Smee who tied Wendy to the mast. See here, Honey, He whispered, I'll save you if you promise to be my mother. But not even for Smee would Wendy make such a promise. I would almost rather have no children at all, She said disdainfully. It is sad to know that not a boy was looking at her as Smee tied her to the mast. The eyes of all were on the plank. This was the last little walk they were about to take. They were no longer able to hope they would walk it manfully. The capacity to think had gone from them. They could only stare and shiver. Hook smiled on them with his teeth closed and took a step towards Wendy. His intention was to turn her face so she should see the boys walking the plank one by one. But he never reached her. He never heard the cry of anguish he hoped to wring from her. He heard something else instead. It was the terrible tick-tick of the crocodile. They all heard it. Pirates, Boys, Wendy and immediately every head was blown in one direction. Not to the water, But towards Hook. All knew what was about to happen. Very frightful it was to see the change that came over him. It was as if he had been clipped at every joint. He fell into a little heap. Hide me, Cried Hook hoarsely. So they gathered round him, All eyes averted from the thing that was coming aboard. They had no thought of fighting it. It was fate. Only when Hook was hidden from them did curiosity loosen the limbs of the boys so they could rush to the ship's side to see the crocodile climbing it. Then they got the strangest surprise of the night of nights. It was no crocodile that was coming to their aid. It was Peter. He signed to them not to give vent to any cry of admiration. And he went on ticking. 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've 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 but aboard 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 forecast 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, Dukes said hook. It's in the cabin. The cabin. Peter was in the cabin. The children gazed at each other. Aye, Aye said Dukes blithely and he strode into the cabin. They followed him with their eyes. What was the last line will never be known for all 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 Dukes. The matter with him is he's dead. Stabbed a voice replied. Bill Dukes 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 up 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 then 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 certainly 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 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 butler when another who 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 your 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 quietest 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 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 game 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 he 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 its dead staff 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. By two bells that morning they were all stirring their stumps for there was a big sea running and Tootles the bosun was among them with a rope's end in his hand and chewing tobacco. Captain Pan calculated after consulting the ship's chart that if this weather lasted they should strike the shore before the 21st of June after which it would save time to fly. Some of them wanted it to be an honest ship and others were in favour of keeping it a pirate but the captain treated them as dogs and they dared not express their wishes to him even in a round robin. Instant obedience was the only safe thing Slightly got a dozen for looking perplexed when told to take their soundings the general feeling was that Peter was honest just now to lull Wendy's suspicions but that there might be a change when the new suit was ready which against her will she was making for him out of some of Hook's wickedest darlings. It was afterwards whispered among them that on the first night he wore this suit he sat long in the cabin with Hook's cigar holder in his mouth and one hand clenched all but the forefinger which he bent and held threateningly aloft like a hook. And now we must return to that desolate home from which three of our characters had taken heart this flight so long ago. It seems a shame to have neglected number 14 all this time and yet we may be sure that Mrs Darling does not blame us don't be silly she would say what do I matter go back and keep an eye on the children so long as mothers are like this their children will take advantage of them and they may lay to that. Even now we venture into that familiar nursery only because its lawful occupants are on their way home. Mr and Mrs Darling do not go out for the evening why on earth should their beds be properly aired seeing they left them in such a thankless hurry would it not serve them well right if they came back and found their parents were spending the weekend in the country it would be the moral lesson they've been in need of ever since we met them but if we contrived things in this way Mrs Darling would never forgive us. When the children flew away Mr Darling felt in his bones all the blame was his for having chained Nana up and from first to last she had been wiser than he of course we've seen he was quite a simple man he might have passed for a boy again if he'd been able to take his balkness off but he had also a noble sense of justice and a lion courage to do what seemed right and having thought the matter out he went down on all fours and crawled into the kennel this is the place for me he said he swore he would never leave that kennel until his children came back of course this was a pity but whatever Mr Darling did he had to do in excess otherwise he soon gave up doing it every morning the kennel was carried with Mr Darling in it to a cab which conveyed him to his office and he returned home in the same way at six something of the strength of character of the man will be seen if we remember how sensitive he was to the opinion of his neighbours this man whose every movement now attracted surprise attention inwardly he must have suffered torture but he preserved a calm exterior even when the young criticised his little home and he always lifted his hat courteously to any lady who looked inside soon the inward meaning of it leaked out and the great heart of the public was touched crowds followed the cab cheering it lustily charming girls scaled it to get his autograph interviews appeared in the best class of papers and society invited him into dinner and added do come in the kennel on that eventful Thursday week Mrs Darling was in the night nursery awaiting George's return home now that we look at her closely and remember the gaiety of her in the old days all gone just because she's lost her babes I find I won't be able to say nasty things about her after all look at her in her chair where she's fallen asleep the corner of her mouth where one looks first is almost withered up some like Peter best and some like Wendy best but I like Mrs Darling best supposed to make her happy we whisper to her that the brats are coming back they're really within two miles of the window now and flying strong all we need whisper is they are on the way Oh Nana! She cried I dreamt my day ones had come back Nana had filmy eyes but all she could do was put her paw gently on her mistresses lap and they sat together thus when the kennel was brought back feeling drowsy Mr Darling curled around in the kennel won't you play me to sleep? He asked his wife on the nursery piano and shut that window will you I feel a draft George never asked me to do that the window must always be left open for them now it was his turn to beg her pardon and Mrs Darling went into the day nursery and played and soon he was fast asleep while he slept Wendy and John and Michael flew into the room John said Michael doubtfully I think I've been here before course you have silly that's your old bed so it is then Wendy exclaimed it's father let me see him Michael begged eagerly and he took a good look he's not as big as the pirate I killed he said with such frank disappointment I'm glad Mr Darling was asleep it would have been sad if those had been the first words he heard Wendy and John were taken aback somewhat at finding their father in the kennel surely said John like one who'd lost faith he used not to sleep in the kennel did he perhaps we don't remember the old life as well as we thought we did said Wendy it was then that Mrs Darling began playing again it's mother cried Wendy peeping so it is said John then you're not really our mother Wendy asked Michael who was surely sleepy oh dear exclaimed Wendy with her first real twinge of remorse it was quite time we did come back let us creep in John suggested and put our hands over her eyes but Wendy who saw they must break the joyous news more gently had a better plan let us all slip into our beds and be there when she comes in just as if we'd never been away and so when Mrs Darling went back to the night nursery to see if her husband was asleep all the beds were occupied the children waited for her cry of joy but it did not come she saw them but she did not quite believe they were there you see she had seen them so often in their beds in her dreams that she thought this was still the dream hanging around she sat down in the chair by the fire where in the old days she had nursed them they could not understand this and a cold fear fell upon all three of them mother? Wendy cried that's Wendy she said but she was still sure it was a dream mother? That's John she said mother? Cried Michael he knew her now that's Michael said Mrs Darling and she stretched out her arms for the three little selfish children they would never envelope again and yet they did they went around Wendy, John and Michael who had slipped out of bed and run to her George! George! She cried when she could speak and Mr Darling woke to share her bliss and Nana came rushing in there could not have been a lovelier sight but there was none to see it except a strange boy who was staring at the window he had ecstasies innumerable that other children can never know but he was looking through the window at the one joy from which he must be forever barred I hope you will want to know what became of the other boys they were waiting below to give Wendy time to explain and when they counted five hundred they went up the stairs they stood in a row in front of Mrs Darling with their hats off and wishing they were not wearing their pirate clothes they ought to have looked at Mr Darling too but they forgot of course Mrs Darling said at once she would have them but Mr Darling was curiously depressed and they saw he considered six a rather large number I must say he said to Wendy you don't do things by halves George! Mrs Darling exclaimed pained to see her dear one showing himself in such an unfavourable light then he burst into tears and all the truth came out Mr Darling was as glad to have them back as she was but he thought they should have asked his consent as well as hers before they left as for Peter he saw Wendy once before he flew away Mrs Darling was at the window then and she told Peter she'd adopted all the other boys and would like to adopt him too would you send me to a school? He inquired craftily yes and then to an office I suppose so so I would be a man very soon well I don't want to go to school and learn things, He told her passionately. I don't want to be a man. If I was to wake up and feel there was a beard. . . I should love you in a beard, Said Wendy. Keep back, Lady, Said Peter to Mrs. Darling. No one's going to catch me and make me a man. But where will you live? I will live with Tinkerbell in the house we built for Wendy, He said. How lovely, Cried Wendy. And I shall have such fun, Said Peter, With one eye on Wendy. It will be rather lonely in the evening, She said. I shall have Tink. Tink can't go a twentieth part of the way round. Sneaky tell-tale, Tink called from somewhere round the corner. It doesn't matter, Said Peter. No, It matters, Said Wendy. Well then, Come with me to the little house. May I, Mummy? Certainly not, Said Mrs. Darling. I've got you home again and I mean to keep you. But Peter does so need a mother. And so do you, My love. So she made a handsome offer. Wendy could go to Peter for a week every year to do his spring cleaning. Wendy would have preferred a more permanent arrangement. But this promise sent Peter away quite gay again. He had no sense of time and was so full of adventures that he cared not. You won't forget me, Peter, Will you, Before spring cleaning comes? Of course, Peter Pan promised. Then he flew away and took Mrs. Darling's kiss with him. Peter was exactly as fascinating as ever. And they had a lovely spring cleaning in the little house the next year. But the year after that he did not come for her. Wendy waited in a new frock because the old one would not fit. But he never came. And that was the last time Wendy ever saw him. For a little longer she tried for his sake not to have growing pains. And she felt she was untrue to him when she got a prize for general knowledge. But one by one the years came and went without bringing the careless boy. And when they met again, Wendy was a married woman. And Peter was no more to her than a little dust in the box in which she had kept her toys. All the boys were grown up now. So it's scarcely worthwhile saying anything more about them. You may see the twins and Nibs and Curly any day going into an office, Each carrying a little bag and an umbrella. Michael is an engine driver. Slightly married a lady of title so he became a lord. And you see that judge in a wig coming out of the iron door. That used to be two laws. And as for the bearded man who doesn't know any story to tell his children, That was once John. Wendy was married in white with a pink sash. Years rolled on and she had a daughter. She was called Jane and she always had an odd inquiring look as if from the moment she arrived on the mainland she wanted to ask questions. When she was old enough she loved to hear of Peter and Wendy told her she could remember everything in the nursery from which the famous flight had taken place. But this was Jane's nursery now. And then one night came the tragedy. The window blew open of old and Peter dropped on the floor. I am old Peter now, Said Wendy. I'm ever so much older than twenty. I grew up a long time ago. But you promised not to, Said Peter. I couldn't help it. I'm a married woman Peter. No you're not. Yes, And that little girl in the bed is my baby. Peter took a step towards the sleeping child. Then he sat down on the floor and sobbed. Wendy did not know how to comfort him. She was only a woman now. So she ran out of the room to try to think. This woke up Jane. Hello, He said. Hello, Said Jane. My name's Peter Pan. I came back for my mother to take her to the Neverland. Yes I know, Said Jane. I've been waiting for you. And when Wendy returned she found Peter sitting on the bedpost crowing gloriously while Jane in her nightie was flying around the room in solemn ecstasy. Of course in the end Wendy let them fly away together. Our last glimpse of her shows her at the window watching them receding into the sky until they were as small as stars. As you look at Wendy you may see her hair becoming white and her figure little again for all this happened long ago. Jane is now a common grown-up with a daughter called Margaret and every spring cleaning time except when he forgets Peter comes for Margaret and takes her to the Neverland. When Margaret grows up she will have a daughter who is to be Peter's mother in turn and thus it will go on as long as children are gay and innocent and heartless.