For a moment after Mr. and Mrs. Darling left the house thenight-lights by the beds of the three children continued to burnclearly. They were awfully nice little night-lights, and onecannot help wishing that they could have kept awake to see Peter;but Wendy's light blinked and gave such a yawn that the other twoyawned also, and before they could close their mouths all thethree went out.

There was another light in the room now, a thousand timesbrighter than the night-lights, and in the time we have taken tosay this, it had been in all the drawers in the nursery, lookingfor Peter's shadow, rummaged the wardrobe and turned every pocketinside out. It was not really a light; it made this light byflashing about so quickly, but when it came to rest for a secondyou saw it was a fairy, no longer than your hand, but stillgrowing. It was a girl called Tinker Bell exquisitely gowned ina skeleton leaf, cut low and square, through which her figurecould be seen to the best advantage. She was slightly inclinedto EMBONPOINT. [plump hourglass figure]

A moment after the fairy's entrance the window was blown openby the breathing of the little stars, and Peter dropped in. Hehad carried Tinker Bell part of the way, and his hand was stillmessy with the fairy dust.

"Tinker Bell," he called softly, after making sure that thechildren were asleep, "Tink, where are you?" She was in a jugfor the moment, and liking it extremely; she had never been in ajug before.

"Oh, do come out of that jug, and tell me, do you know wherethey put my shadow?"

The loveliest tinkle as of golden bells answered him. It is thefairy language. You ordinary children can never hear it, but ifyou were to hear it you would know that you had heard it oncebefore.

Tink said that the shadow was in the big box. She meant thechest of drawers, and Peter jumped at the drawers, scatteringtheir contents to the floor with both hands, as kings tossha'pence to the crowd. In a moment he had recovered his shadow,and in his delight he forgot that he had shut Tinker Bell up inthe drawer.

If he thought at all, but I don't believe he ever thought, itwas that he and his shadow, when brought near each other, wouldjoin like drops of water, and when they did not he was appalled. He tried to stick it on with soap from the bathroom, but thatalso failed. A shudder passed through Peter, and he sat on thefloor and cried.

His sobs woke Wendy, and she sat up in bed. She was notalarmed to see a stranger crying on the nursery floor; she wasonly pleasantly interested.

"Boy," she said courteously, "why are you crying?"

Peter could be exceeding polite also, having learned the grandmanner at fairy ceremonies, and he rose and bowed to herbeautifully. She was much pleased, and bowed beautifully to himfrom the bed.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Wendy Moira Angela Darling," she replied with somesatisfaction. "What is your name?"

"Peter Pan."

She was already sure that he must be Peter, but it did seem acomparatively short name.

"Is that all?"

"Yes," he said rather sharply. He felt for the first time thatit 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, "and then straight on tillmorning."

"What a funny address!"

Peter had a sinking. For the first time he felt that perhapsit was a funny address.

"No, it isn't," he said.

"I mean," Wendy said nicely, remembering that she was hostess,"is that what they put on the letters?"

He 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, buthe had not the slightest desire to have one. He thought themvery over-rated persons. Wendy, however, felt at once that shewas in the presence of a tragedy.

"O Peter, no wonder you were crying," she said, and got out ofbed 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."

Then Wendy saw the shadow on the floor, looking so draggled,and she was frightfully sorry for Peter. "How awful!" she said,but she could not help smiling when she saw that he had beentrying to stick it on with soap. How exactly like a boy!

Fortunately she knew at once what to do. "It must be sewn on,"she said, just a little patronisingly.

"What's sewn?" he asked.

"You're dreadfully ignorant."

"No, I'm not."

But she was exulting in his ignorance. "I shall sew it on foryou, my little man," she said, though he was tall as herself, andshe got out her housewife [sewing bag], and sewed the shadow onto Peter's foot.

"I daresay it will hurt a little," she warned him.

"Oh, I shan't cry," said Peter, who was already of the opinionthat he had never cried in his life. And he clenched his teethand did not cry, and soon his shadow was behaving properly,though still a little creased.

"Perhaps I should have ironed it," Wendy said thoughtfully, butPeter, boylike, was indifferent to appearances, and he was nowjumping about in the wildest glee. Alas, he had alreadyforgotten that he owed his bliss to Wendy. He thought he hadattached the shadow himself. "How clever I am!" he crowedrapturously, "oh, the cleverness of me!"

It is humiliating to have to confess that this conceit of Peterwas one of his most fascinating qualities. To put it with brutalfrankness, there never was a cockier boy.

But for the moment Wendy was shocked. "You conceit [braggart],"she exclaimed, with frightful sarcasm; "of course I did nothing!"

"You did a little," Peter said carelessly, and continued todance.

"A little!" she replied with hauteur [pride]; "if I am no useI can at least withdraw," and she sprang in the most dignifiedway into bed and covered her face with the blankets.

To induce her to look up he pretended to be going away, andwhen this failed he sat on the end of the bed and tapped hergently with his foot. "Wendy," he said, "don't withdraw. Ican't help crowing, Wendy, when I'm pleased with myself." Stillshe would not look up, though she was listening eagerly. "Wendy," he continued, in a voice that no woman has ever yet beenable to resist, "Wendy, one girl is more use than twenty boys."

Now Wendy was every inch a woman, though there were not verymany inches, and she peeped out of the bed-clothes.

"Do you really think so, Peter?"

"Yes, I do."

"I think it's perfectly sweet of you," she declared, "and I'llget up again," and she sat with him on the side of the bed. Shealso said she would give him a kiss if he liked, but Peter didnot know what she meant, and he held out his hand expectantly.

"Surely you know what a kiss is?" she asked, aghast.

"I shall know when you give it to me," he replied stiffly, andnot to hurt his feeling she gave him a thimble.

"Now," said he, "shall I give you a kiss?" and she replied witha slight primness, "If you please." She made herself rathercheap by inclining her face toward him, but he merely dropped anacorn button into her hand, so she slowly returned her face towhere it had been before, and said nicely that she would wear hiskiss on the chain around her neck. It was lucky that she did putit on that chain, for it was afterwards to save her life.

When people in our set are introduced, it is customary for themto ask each other's age, and so Wendy, who always liked to do thecorrect thing, asked Peter how old he was. It was not really ahappy question to ask him; it was like an examination paper thatasks grammar, when what you want to be asked is Kings of England.

"I don't know," he replied uneasily, "but I am quite young." He really knew nothing about it, he had merely suspicions, but hesaid at a venture, "Wendy, I ran away the day I was born."

Wendy was quite surprised, but interested; and she indicated inthe charming drawing-room manner, by a touch on her night-gown,that he could sit nearer her.

"It was because I heard father and mother," he explained in alow voice, "talking about what I was to be when I became a man." He was extraordinarily agitated now. "I don't want ever to be aman," he said with passion. "I want always to be a little boyand to have fun. So I ran away to Kensington Gardens and lived along long time among the fairies."

She gave him a look of the most intense admiration, and hethought it was because he had run away, but it was really becausehe knew fairies. Wendy had lived such a home life that to knowfairies struck her as quite delightful. She poured out questionsabout them, to his surprise, for they were rather a nuisanceto him, getting in his way and so on, and indeed he sometimeshad to give them a hiding [spanking]. Still, he liked themon the whole, and he told her about the beginning of fairies.

"You see, Wendy, when the first baby laughed for the firsttime, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all wentskipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies."

Tedious talk this, but being a stay-at-home she liked it.

"And so," he went on good-naturedly, "there ought to be onefairy for every boy and girl."

"Ought to be? Isn't there?"

"No. You see children know such a lot now, they soon don'tbelieve in fairies, and every time a child says, `I don't believein fairies,' there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead."

Really, he thought they had now talked enough about fairies,and it struck him that Tinker Bell was keeping very quiet. "Ican't think where she has gone to," he said, rising, and hecalled Tink by name. Wendy's heart went flutter with a suddenthrill.

"Peter," she cried, clutching him, "you don't mean to tell methat there is a fairy in this room!"

"She was here just now," he said a little impatiently. "Youdon't hear her, do you?" and they both listened.

"The only sound I hear," said Wendy, "is like a tinkle ofbells."

"Well, that's Tink, that's the fairy language. I think I hearher too."

The sound come from the chest of drawers, and Peter made amerry face. No one could ever look quite so merry as Peter, andthe loveliest of gurgles was his laugh. He had his first laughstill.

"Wendy," he whispered gleefully, "I do believe I shut her up inthe drawer!"

He let poor Tink out of the drawer, and she flew about thenursery screaming with fury. "You shouldn't say such things,"Peter retorted. "Of course I'm very sorry, but how could I knowyou were in the drawer?"

Wendy was not listening to him. "O Peter," she cried, "if shewould only stand still and let me see her!"

"They hardly ever stand still," he said, but for one momentWendy saw the romantic figure come to rest on the cuckoo clock. "O the lovely!" she cried, though Tink's face was still distortedwith passion.

"Tink," said Peter amiably, "this lady says she wishes youwere her fairy."

Tinker Bell answered insolently.

"What does she say, Peter?"

He had to translate. "She is not very polite. She says youare a great [huge] ugly girl, and that she is my fairy.

He tried to argue with Tink. "You know you can't be my fairy,Tink, because I am an gentleman and you are a lady."

To this Tink replied in these words, "You silly ass," anddisappeared into the bathroom. "She is quite a common fairy,"Peter explained apologetically, "she is called Tinker Bellbecause she mends the pots and kettles [tinker = tin worker]."[Similar to "cinder" plus "elle" to get Cinderella]

They were together in the armchair by this time, and Wendyplied 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 lost boys."

"Who are they?"

"They are the children who fall out of their perambulators whenthe nurse is looking the other way. If they are not claimed inseven days they are sent far away to the Neverland to defrayexpenses. I'm captain."

"What fun it must be!"

"Yes," said cunning Peter, "but we are rather lonely. You seewe have no female companionship."

"Are 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 isperfectly lovely the way you talk about girls; John there justdespises us."

For reply Peter rose and kicked John out of bed, blankets andall; one kick. This seemed to Wendy rather forward for a firstmeeting, and she told him with spirit that he was not captain inher house. However, John continued to sleep so placidly on thefloor that she allowed him to remain there. "And I know you meantto be kind," she said, relenting, "so you may give me a kiss."

For the moment she had forgotten his ignorance about kisses. "I thought you would want it back," he said a little bitterly,and offered to return her the thimble.

"Oh dear," said the nice Wendy, "I don't mean a kiss, I mean athimble."

"What's that?"

"It's like this." She kissed him.

"Funny!" said Peter gravely. "Now shall I give you a thimble?"

"If you wish to," said Wendy, keeping her head erect this time.

Peter thimbled her, and almost immediately she screeched. "What is it, Wendy?"

"It was exactly as if someone were pulling my hair."

"That must have been Tink. I never knew her so naughtybefore."

And indeed Tink was darting about again, using offensivelanguage.

"She says she will do that to you, Wendy, every time I give youa thimble."

"But why?"

"Why, Tink?"

Again Tink replied, "You silly ass." Peter could notunderstand why, but Wendy understood, and she was just slightlydisappointed when he admitted that he came to the nursery windownot to see her but to listen to stories.

"You see, I don't know any stories. None of the lost boysknows any stories."

"How perfectly awful," Wendy said.

"Do you know," Peter asked "why swallows build in the eaves ofhouses? It is to listen to the stories. O Wendy, your motherwas telling you such a lovely story."

"Which story was it?"

"About the prince who couldn't find the lady who wore the glassslipper."

"Peter," said Wendy excitedly, "that was Cinderella, and hefound her, and they lived happily ever after."

Peter was so glad that he rose from the floor, where they hadbeen 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 thatit was she who first tempted him.

He came back, and there was a greedy look in his eyes now whichought to have alarmed her, but did not.

"Oh, the stories I could tell to the boys!" she cried, and thenPeter 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, "Ohdear, 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 awaywe go."

"Oo!" she exclaimed rapturously.

"Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed youmight 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 weshould all respect you."

She was wriggling her body in distress. It was quite as if shewere 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. Noneof 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 andMichael and shook them. "Wake up," she cried, "Peter Pan hascome and he is to teach us to fly."

John rubbed his eyes. "Then I shall get up," he said. Ofcourse he was on the floor already. "Hallo," he said, "I am up!"

Michael was up by this time also, looking as sharp as a knifewith six blades and a saw, but Peter suddenly signed silence. Their faces assumed the awful craftiness of children listeningfor 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, wasquiet now. It was her silence they had heard.

"Out with the light! Hide! Quick!" cried John, taking commandfor the only time throughout the whole adventure. And thus whenLiza entered, holding Nana, the nursery seemed quite its oldself, very dark, and you would have sworn you heard its threewicked inmates breathing angelically as they slept. They werereally doing it artfully from behind the window curtains.

Liza was in a bad tamper, for she was mixing the Christmaspuddings in the kitchen, and had been drawn from them, with araisin still on her cheek, by Nana's absurd suspicions. Shethought the best way of getting a little quiet was to take Nanato the nursery for a moment, but in custody of course.

"There, you suspicious brute," she said, not sorry that Nanawas in disgrace. "They are perfectly safe, aren't they? Everyone of the little angels sound asleep in bed. Listen to theirgentle breathing."

Here Michael, encouraged by his success, breathed so loudlythat they were nearly detected. Nana knew that kind ofbreathing, 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 shallgo straight for master and missus and bring them home from theparty, and then, oh, won't master whip you, just."

She tied the unhappy dog up again, but do you think Nana ceasedto bark? Bring master and missus home from the party! Why, thatwas just what she wanted. Do you think she cared whether she waswhipped so long as her charges were safe? Unfortunately Lizareturned to her puddings, and Nana, seeing that no help wouldcome from her, strained and strained at the chain until at lastshe broke it. In another moment she had burst into the dining-room of 27 and flung up her paws to heaven, her most expressiveway of making a communication. Mr. and Mrs. Darling knew at oncethat something terrible was happening in their nursery, andwithout a good-bye to their hostess they rushed into the street.

But it was now ten minutes since three scoundrels had beenbreathing behind the curtains, and Peter Pan can do a great dealin ten minutes.

We now return 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 am sweet!" said Peter, forgetting hismanners again.

It looked delightfully easy, and they tried it first from thefloor and then from the beds, but they always went down insteadof up.

"I say, how do you do it?" asked John, rubbing his knee. Hewas 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 veryslowly once?"

Peter did it both slowly and quickly. "I've got it now,Wendy!" cried John, but soon he found he had not. Not one ofthem could fly an inch, though even Michael was in words of twosyllables, and Peter did not know A from Z.

Of course Peter had been trifling with them, for no one can flyunless the fairy dust has been blown on him. Fortunately, as wehave mentioned, one of his hands was messy with it, and he blewsome on each of them, with the most superb results.

"Now just wiggle your shoulders this way," he said, "and letgo."

They were all on their beds, and gallant Michael let go first. He did not quite mean to let go, but he did it, and immediatelyhe was borne across the room.

"I flewed!" he screamed 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 elegant as Peter, they could not helpkicking a little, but their heads were bobbing against theceiling, and there is almost nothing so delicious as that. Petergave Wendy a hand at first, but had to desist, Tink was soindignant.

Up and down they went, and round and round. Heavenly wasWendy's word.

"I say," cried John, "why shouldn't 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 doa billion miles. But Wendy hesitated.

"Mermaids!" said Peter again.

"Oo!"

"And there are pirates."

"Pirates," cried John, seizing his Sunday hat, "let us go atonce."

It was just at this moment that Mr. and Mrs. Darling hurriedwith Nana out of 27. They ran into the middle of the street tolook up at the nursery window; and, yes, it was still shut, butthe room was ablaze with light, and most heart-gripping sight ofall, they could see in shadow on the curtain three little figuresin night attire circling round and round, not on the floor but inthe air.

Not three figures, four!

In a tremble they opened the street door. Mr. Darling wouldhave rushed upstairs, but Mrs. Darling signed him to go softly. She even tried to make her heart go softly.

Will they reach the nursery in time? If so, how delightful forthem, and we shall all breathe a sigh of relief, but there willbe no story. On the other hand, if they are not in time, Isolemnly promise that it will all come right in the end.

They would have reached the nursery in time had it not beenthat the little stars were watching them. Once again the starsblew the window open, and that smallest star of all called out:

"Cave, Peter!"

Then Peter knew that there was not a moment to lose. "Come,"he cried imperiously, and soared out at once into the night,followed by John and Michael and Wendy.

Mr. and Mrs. Darling and Nana rushed into the nursery too late. The birds were flown.