The Adventures of Peter Pan

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nursery window not to see her but to listen to stories.
"You see, I don't know any stories. None of the lost boys knows any stories."
"How perfectly awful," Wendy said.
"Do you know," Peter asked "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen
to the stories. O Wendy, your mother was telling you such a lovely story."
"Which story was it?"
"About the prince who couldn't find the lady who wore the glass slipper."
"Peter," said Wendy excitedly, "that was Cinderella, and he found her, and they lived
happily ever after."
Peter was so glad that he rose from the floor, where they had been sitting, and hurried to
the window.
"Where are you going?" she cried with misgiving.
"To tell the other boys."
"Don't go Peter," she entreated, "I know such lots of stories."
Those were her precise words, so there can be no denying that 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 did not.
"Oh, the stories I could tell to the boys!" she cried, and then Peter gripped her and began
to draw her toward the window.
"Let me go!" she ordered him.
"Wendy, do come with me and tell the other boys."
Of course 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 lovely to fly."
"I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go."
"Oo!" she exclaimed rapturously.
"Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about
with me saying funny things to the stars."
"Oo!"
"And, Wendy, there are mermaids."
"Mermaids! With tails?"
"Such long tails."
"Oh," cried Wendy, "to see a mermaid!"
He had become frightfully cunning. "Wendy," he said, "how we should all respect you."
She was wriggling her body in distress. It was quite as if she were trying to remain on
the nursery floor.
But he had no pity for her.
"Wendy," he said, the sly one, "you could tuck us in at night."
"Oo!"
"None of us has ever been tucked in at night."
"Oo," and her arms went out to him.
"And you could darn our clothes, and make pockets for us. None of us has any pockets."
How could she 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.
"Wake up," she cried, "Peter Pan has come and he is to teach us to fly."
John rubbed his eyes. "Then I shall get up," he said. Of course he was on the floor
already. "Hallo," he said, "I am up!"
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 as still as salt. Then everything
was right. No, stop! Everything was wrong. Nana, who had been barking distressfully all
the evening, was quiet now. 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 thus when Liza entered, holding Nana, the nursery
seemed quite its old self, very dark, and you would have sworn you heard its three
wicked inmates breathing angelically as they slept. They were really doing it artfully
from behind the window curtains.
Liza was in a bad tamper, for she was mixing the Christmas puddings in the kitchen, and
had been drawn 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 that Nana was in disgrace. "They are
perfectly safe, aren't they? Every one of the little angels sound asleep in bed. Listen to
their gentle breathing."
Here Michael, encouraged by his success, breathed so loudly that 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, pulling her out of the room.
"I warn you if bark again I shall go straight for master and missus and bring them home
from the party, and then, oh, won't master whip you, just."
She tied the unhappy dog up again, but do you think Nana ceased to bark? Bring master
and missus home from the party! Why, that was just what she wanted. Do you think she
cared whether she was whipped so long as her charges were safe? Unfortunately Liza
returned to her puddings, and Nana, seeing that no help would come from her, strained
and strained at the chain until at last she broke it. In another moment she had burst into
the dining- room of 27 and flung up her paws to heaven, her most expressive way of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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