Peter Pan
COME AWAY, COME AWAY!
For a moment after Mr. and Mrs. Darling left the house the night-lights by the of the three children to clearly. They were little night-lights, and one cannot help that they have to see Peter; but Wendy’s light and gave such a that the other two also, and they close their mouths all the three out.
There was another light in the room now, a thousand times than the night-lights, and in the time we have taken to say this, it had been in all the in the nursery, looking for Peter’s shadow, the and every pocket out. It was not a light; it this light by about so quickly, but when it came to for a second you saw it was a fairy, no longer than your hand, but still growing. It was a girl called Tinker Bell in a leaf, cut low and square, through which her be to the best advantage. She was to embonpoint.
A moment after the fairy’s entrance the window was open by the of the little stars, and Peter in. He had Tinker Bell part of the way, and his hand was still with the dust.
“Tinker Bell,” he called softly, after making sure that the children were asleep, “Tink, where are you?” She was in a for the moment, and it extremely; she had been in a before.
“Oh, do come out of that jug, and tell me, do you know where they put my shadow?”
The as of answered him. It is the language. You ordinary children can it, but if you were to it you would know that you had it once before.
Tink said that the was in the big box. She meant the of drawers, and Peter jumped at the drawers, their to the with hands, as kings ha’pence to the crowd. In a moment he had his shadow, and in his he that he had Tinker Bell up in the drawer.
If he at all, but I don’t he thought, it was that he and his shadow, when near each other, would join like of water, and when they did not he was appalled. He to it on with soap from the bathroom, but that also failed. A passed through Peter, and he sat on the and cried.
His Wendy, and she sat up in bed. She was not to see a on the floor; she was only interested.
“Boy,” she said courteously, “why are you crying?”
Peter be also, having learned the manner at ceremonies, and he rose and to her beautifully. She was much pleased, and to him from the bed.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Wendy Moira Angela Darling,” she with some satisfaction. “What is your name?”
“Peter Pan.”
She was already sure that he must be Peter, but it did a name.
“Is that all?”
“Yes,” he said sharply. He for the time that it was a 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, “and then on till morning.”
“What a address!”
Peter had a sinking. For the time he that it was a address.
“No, it isn’t,” he said.
“I mean,” Wendy said nicely, that she was hostess, “is that what they put on the letters?”
He she had not mentioned letters.
“Don’t any letters,” he said contemptuously.
“But your mother letters?”
“Don’t have a mother,” he said. Not only had he no mother, but he had not the to have one. He them very over-rated persons. Wendy, however, at once that she was in the presence of a tragedy.
“O Peter, no wonder you were crying,” she said, and got out of and ran to him.
“I wasn’t about mothers,” he said indignantly. “I was I can’t my to on. Besides, I wasn’t crying.”
“It has come off?”
“Yes.”
Then Wendy saw the on the floor, looking so draggled, and she was sorry for Peter. “How awful!” she said, but she not help when she saw that he had been trying to it on with soap. How like a boy!
Fortunately she at once what to do. “It must be on,” she said, just a little patronisingly.
“What’s sewn?” he asked.
“You’re ignorant.”
“No, I’m not.”
But she was in his ignorance. “I shall it on for you, my little man,” she said, though he was tall as herself, and she got out her housewife, and the on to Peter’s foot.
“I it will a little,” she him.
“Oh, I shan’t cry,” said Peter, who was already of the opinion that he had in his life. And he his teeth and did not cry, and soon his was properly, though still a little creased.
“Perhaps I should have it,” Wendy said thoughtfully, but Peter, boylike, was to appearances, and he was now jumping about in the glee. Alas, he had already that he his to Wendy. He he had the himself. “How I am!” he rapturously, “oh, the of me!”
It is to have to that this of Peter was one of his most qualities. To put it with frankness, there was a boy.
But for the moment Wendy was shocked. “You conceit,” she exclaimed, with sarcasm; “of I did nothing!”
“You did a little,” Peter said carelessly, and to dance.
“A little!” she with hauteur; “if I am no use I can at least withdraw,” and she in the most way into and her with the blankets.
To her to look up he to be going away, and when this failed he sat on the end of the and her with his foot. “Wendy,” he said, “don’t withdraw. I can’t help crowing, Wendy, when I’m pleased with myself.” Still she would not look up, though she was eagerly. “Wendy,” he continued, in a voice that no woman has yet been able to resist, “Wendy, one girl is more use than twenty boys.”
Now Wendy was every a woman, though there were not very many inches, and she out of the bed-clothes.
“Do you think so, Peter?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I think it’s perfectly sweet of you,” she declared, “and I’ll up again,” and she sat with him on the of the bed. She also said she would give him a if he liked, but Peter did not know what she meant, and he out his hand expectantly.
“Surely you know what a is?” she asked, aghast.
“I shall know when you give it to me,” he stiffly, and not to his she gave him a thimble.
“Now,” said he, “shall I give you a kiss?” and she with a primness, “If you please.” She herself by her toward him, but he an into her hand, so she slowly returned her to where it had been before, and said that she would wear his on the around her neck. It was lucky that she did put it on that chain, for it was to save her life.
When people in our set are introduced, it is for them to ask each other’s age, and so Wendy, who always liked to do the thing, asked Peter how old he was. It was not a happy question to ask him; it was like an paper that grammar, when what you want to be asked is Kings of England.
“I don’t know,” he uneasily, “but I am young.” He nothing about it, he had suspicions, but he said at a venture, “Wendy, I ran away the day I was born.”
Wendy was surprised, but interested; and she in the drawing-room manner, by a touch on her night-gown, that he nearer her.
“It was I father and mother,” he in a low voice, “talking about what I was to be when I a man.” He was now. “I don’t want to be a man,” he said with passion. “I want always to be a little boy and to have fun. So I ran away to Kensington Gardens and a long long time among the fairies.”
She gave him a look of the most admiration, and he it was he had away, but it was he fairies. Wendy had such a home life that to know her as delightful. She out questions about them, to his surprise, for they were a to him, in his way and so on, and he sometimes had to give them a hiding. Still, he liked them on the whole, and he told her about the of fairies.
“You see, Wendy, when the laughed for the time, its laugh into a thousand pieces, and they all about, and that was the of fairies.”
Tedious talk this, but being a stay-at-home she liked it.
“And so,” he on good-naturedly, “there ought to be one for every boy and girl.”
“Ought to be? Isn’t there?”
“No. You see children know such a now, they soon don’t in fairies, and every time a child says, ‘I don’t in fairies,’ there is a that dead.”
Really, he they had now talked about fairies, and it him that Tinker Bell was very quiet. “I can’t think where she has gone to,” he said, rising, and he called Tink by name. Wendy’s with a thrill.
“Peter,” she cried, him, “you don’t to tell me that there is a in this room!”
“She was here just now,” he said a little impatiently. “You don’t her, do you?” and they listened.
“The only I hear,” said Wendy, “is like a of bells.”
“Well, that’s Tink, that’s the language. I think I her too.”
The came from the of drawers, and Peter a face. No one look so as Peter, and the of was his laugh. He had his laugh still.
“Wendy,” he gleefully, “I do I her up in the drawer!”
He let Tink out of the drawer, and she about the with fury. “You shouldn’t say such things,” Peter retorted. “Of I’m very sorry, but how I know you were in the drawer?”
Wendy was not to him. “O Peter,” she cried, “if she would only still and let me see her!”
“They still,” he said, but for one moment Wendy saw the come to on the clock. “O the lovely!” she cried, though Tink’s was still with passion.
“Tink,” said Peter amiably, “this lady says she you were her fairy.”
Tinker Bell answered insolently.
“What she say, Peter?”
He had to translate. “She is not very polite. She says you are a great girl, and that she is my fairy.”
He to argue with Tink. “You know you can’t be my fairy, Tink, I am an and you are a lady.”
To this Tink in these words, “You ass,” and into the bathroom. “She is a common fairy,” Peter apologetically, “she is called Tinker Bell she the and kettles.”
They were together in the by this time, and Wendy him with more questions.
“If you don’t live in Kensington Gardens now—”
“Sometimes I do still.”
“But where do you live mostly now?”
“With the boys.”
“Who are they?”
“They are the children who out of their when the nurse is looking the other way. If they are not in seven days they are sent away to the Neverland to expenses. I’m captain.”
“What fun it must be!”
“Yes,” said Peter, “but we are lonely. You see we have no female companionship.”
“Are none of the others girls?”
“Oh, no; girls, you know, are much too to out of their prams.”
This Wendy immensely. “I think,” she said, “it is perfectly the way you talk about girls; John there just us.”
For reply Peter rose and John out of bed, and all; one kick. This to Wendy for a meeting, and she told him with that he was not captain in her house. However, John to sleep so on the that she allowed him to there. “And I know you meant to be kind,” she said, relenting, “so you may give me a kiss.”
For the moment she had his about kisses. “I you would want it back,” he said a little bitterly, and offered to return her the thimble.
“Oh dear,” said the Wendy, “I don’t a kiss, I a thimble.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s like this.” She him.
“Funny!” said Peter gravely. “Now shall I give you a thimble?”
“If you wish to,” said Wendy, her this time.
Peter her, and almost she screeched. “What is it, Wendy?”
“It was as if someone were my hair.”
“That must have been Tink. I her so before.”
And Tink was about again, using language.
“She says she will do that to you, Wendy, every time I give you a thimble.”
“But why?”
“Why, Tink?”
Again Tink replied, “You ass.” Peter not why, but Wendy understood, and she was just when he that he came to the window not to see her but to to stories.
“You see, I don’t know any stories. None of the boys any stories.”
“How perfectly awful,” Wendy said.
“Do you know,” Peter asked “why in the of houses? It is to to the stories. O Wendy, your mother was telling you such a story.”
“Which was it?”
“About the who couldn’t the lady who the slipper.”
“Peter,” said Wendy excitedly, “that was Cinderella, and he her, and they after.”
Peter was so that he rose from the floor, where they had been sitting, and to the window.
“Where are you going?” she with misgiving.
“To tell the other boys.”
“Don’t go Peter,” she entreated, “I know such of stories.”
Those were her words, so there can be no that it was she who him.
He came back, and there was a look in his now which ought to have her, but did not.
“Oh, the I tell to the boys!” she cried, and then Peter her and to her toward the window.
“Let me go!” she ordered him.
“Wendy, do come with me and tell the other boys.”
Of she was very pleased to be asked, but she said, “Oh dear, I can’t. Think of mummy! Besides, I can’t fly.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“Oh, how to fly.”
“I’ll teach you how to jump on the wind’s back, and then away we go.”
“Oo!” she rapturously.
“Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your you might be about with me saying to the stars.”
“Oo!”
“And, Wendy, there are mermaids.”
“Mermaids! With tails?”
“Such long tails.”
“Oh,” Wendy, “to see a mermaid!”
He had cunning. “Wendy,” he said, “how we should all respect you.”
She was her in distress. It was as if she were trying to on the floor.
But he had no for her.
“Wendy,” he said, the one, “you us in at night.”
“Oo!”
“None of us has been in at night.”
“Oo,” and her arms out to him.
“And you our clothes, and make pockets for us. None of us has any pockets.”
How she resist. “Of it’s fascinating!” she cried. “Peter, would you teach John and Michael to too?”
“If you like,” he said indifferently, and she ran to John and Michael and them. “Wake up,” she cried, “Peter Pan has come and he is to teach us to fly.”
John his eyes. “Then I shall up,” he said. Of he was on the already. “Hallo,” he said, “I am up!”
Michael was up by this time also, looking as as a knife with six and a saw, but Peter silence. Their the of children for from the grown-up world. All was as still as salt. Then was right. No, stop! Everything was wrong. Nana, who had been barking all the evening, was now. It was her they had heard.
“Out with the light! Hide! Quick!” John, taking for the only time the whole adventure. And thus when Liza entered, Nana, the its old self, very dark, and you would have you its three as they slept. They were doing it from the window curtains.
Liza was in a temper, for she was mixing the Christmas in the kitchen, and had been from them, with a still on her cheek, by Nana’s suspicions. She the best way of a little was to take Nana to the for a moment, but in of course.
“There, you brute,” she said, not sorry that Nana was in disgrace. “They are perfectly safe, aren’t they? Every one of the little asleep in bed. Listen to their breathing.”
Here Michael, by his success, so that they were nearly detected. Nana that of breathing, and she to herself out of Liza’s clutches.
But Liza was dense. “No more of it, Nana,” she said sternly, her out of the room. “I you if you again I shall go for master and and them home from the party, and then, oh, won’t master you, just.”
She the dog up again, but do you think Nana to bark? Bring master and home from the party! Why, that was just what she wanted. Do you think she she was so long as her were safe? Unfortunately Liza returned to her puddings, and Nana, that no help would come from her, and at the until at last she it. In another moment she had into the dining-room of 27 and up her to heaven, her most way of making a communication. Mr. and Mrs. Darling at once that something terrible was in their nursery, and without a good-bye to their they into the street.
But it was now ten minutes since three had been the curtains, and Peter Pan can do a great in ten minutes.
We now return to the nursery.
“It’s all right,” John announced, from his hiding-place. “I say, Peter, can you fly?”
Instead of to answer him Peter around the room, taking the on the way.
“How topping!” said John and Michael.
“How sweet!” Wendy.
“Yes, I’m sweet, oh, I am sweet!” said Peter, his manners again.
It looked easy, and they it from the and then from the beds, but they always of up.
“I say, how do you do it?” asked John, his knee. He was a practical boy.
“You just think thoughts,” Peter explained, “and they you up in the air.”
He them again.
“You’re so at it,” John said, “couldn’t you do it very slowly once?”
Peter did it slowly and quickly. “I’ve got it now, Wendy!” John, but soon he he had not. Not one of them an inch, though Michael was in of two syllables, and Peter did not know A from Z.
Of Peter had been with them, for no one can unless the has been on him. Fortunately, as we have mentioned, one of his hands was with it, and he some on each of them, with the most superb results.
“Now just your this way,” he said, “and let go.”
They were all on their beds, and Michael let go first. He did not to let go, but he did it, and he was across the room.
“I flewed!” he while still in mid-air.
John let go and met Wendy near the bathroom.
“Oh, lovely!”
“Oh, ripping!”
“Look at me!”
“Look at me!”
“Look at me!”
They were not nearly so as Peter, they not help kicking a little, but their were against the ceiling, and there is almost nothing so as that. Peter gave Wendy a hand at first, but had to desist, Tink was so indignant.
Up and they went, and and round. Heavenly was Wendy’s word.
“I say,” John, “why shouldn’t we all go out?”
Of it was to this that Peter had been 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.
“Oo!”
“And there are pirates.”
“Pirates,” John, his Sunday hat, “let us go at once.”
It was just at this moment that Mr. and Mrs. Darling with Nana out of 27. They ran into the middle of the to look up at the window; and, yes, it was still shut, but the room was with light, and most heart-gripping of all, they see in on the three little in night and round, not on the but in the air.
Not three figures, four!
In a they opened the door. Mr. Darling would have upstairs, but Mrs. Darling him to go softly. She to make her go softly.
Will they the in time? If so, how for them, and we shall all breathe a of relief, but there will be no story. On the other hand, if they are not in time, I promise that it will all come right in the end.
They would have the in time had it not been that the little were them. Once again the the window open, and that smallest star of all called out:
“Cave, Peter!”
Then Peter that there was not a moment to lose. “Come,” he imperiously, and out at once into the night, by John and Michael and Wendy.
Mr. and Mrs. Darling and Nana into the too late. The were flown.
