"Listen, then, said Wendy, settling down to her story, withMichael at her feet and seven boys in the bed. "There was once agentleman -- "

"I had rather he had been a lady," Curly said.

"I wish he had been a white rat," said Nibs.

"Quiet," their mother admonished [cautioned] them. "There wasa lady also, and -- "

"Oh, mummy," cried the first twin, "you mean that there is alady also, don't you? She is not dead, is she?"

"Oh, no."

"I am awfully glad she isn't dead," said Tootles. "Are youglad, John?"

"Of course I am."

"Are you glad, Nibs?"

"Rather."

"Are you glad, Twins?"

"We are glad."

"Oh dear," sighed Wendy.

"Little less noise there," Peter called out, determined thatshe should have fair play, however beastly a story it might be inhis opinion.

"The gentleman's name," Wendy continued, "was Mr. Darling, andher name was Mrs. Darling."

"I knew them," John said, to annoy the others.

"I think I knew them," said Michael rather doubtfully.

"They were married, you know," explained Wendy, "and what doyou think they had?"

"White rats," cried Nibs, inspired.

"No."

"It's awfully puzzling," said Tootles, who knew the story byheart.

"Quiet, Tootles. They had three descendants."

"What is descendants?"

"Well, you are one, Twin."

"Did you hear that, John? I am a descendant."

"Descendants are only children," said John.

"Oh dear, oh dear," sighed Wendy. "Now these three childrenhad a faithful nurse called Nana; but Mr. Darling was angry withher and chained her up in the yard, and so all the children flewaway."

"It's an awfully good story," said Nibs.

"They flew away," Wendy continued, "to the Neverland, where thelost children are."

"I just thought they did," Curly broke in excitedly. "I don'tknow how it is, but I just thought they did!"

"O Wendy," cried Tootles, "was one of the lost children calledTootles?"

"Yes, he was."

"I am in a story. Hurrah, I am in a story, Nibs."

"Hush. Now I want you to consider the feelings of the unhappyparents with all their children flown away."

"Oo!" they all moaned, though they were not really consideringthe feelings of the unhappy parents one jot.

"Think of the empty beds!"

"Oo!"

"It's awfully sad," the first twin said cheerfully.

"I don't see how it can have a happy ending," said the secondtwin. "Do you, Nibs?"

"I'm frightfully anxious."

"If you knew how great is a mother's love," Wendy told themtriumphantly, "you would have no fear." She had now come to thepart that Peter hated.

"I do like a mother's love," said Tootles, hitting Nibs with apillow. "Do you like a mother's love, Nibs?"

"I do just," said Nibs, hitting back.

"You see," Wendy said complacently, "our heroine knew that themother would always leave the window open for her children to flyback by; so they stayed away for years and had a lovely time."

"Did they ever go back?"

"Let us now," said Wendy, bracing herself up for her finesteffort, "take a peep into the future"; and they all gavethemselves the twist that makes peeps into the future easier. "Years have rolled by, and who is this elegant lady of uncertainage alighting at London Station?"

"O Wendy, who is she?" cried Nibs, every bit as excited as ifhe didn't know.

"Can it be -- yes -- no -- it is -- the fair Wendy!"

"Oh!"

"And who are the two noble portly figures accompanying her, nowgrown to man's estate? Can they be John and Michael? They are!"

"Oh!"

"`See, dear brothers,' says Wendy pointing upwards, `there isthe window still standing open. Ah, now we are rewarded for oursublime faith in a mother's love.' So up they flew to theirmummy and daddy, and pen cannot describe the happy scene, overwhich we draw a veil."

That was the story, and they were as pleased with it as thefair narrator herself. Everything just as it should be, you see. Off we skip like the most heartless things in the world, which iswhat children are, but so attractive; and we have an entirelyselfish time, and then when we have need of special attention wenobly return for it, confident that we shall be rewarded insteadof smacked.

So great indeed was their faith in a mother's love that theyfelt they could afford to be callous for a bit longer.

But there was one there who knew better, and when Wendyfinished he uttered a hollow groan.

"What is it, Peter?" she cried, running to him, thinking he wasill. She felt him solicitously, lower down than his chest. "Where is it, Peter?"

"It isn't that kind of pain," Peter replied darkly.

"Then what kind is it?"

"Wendy, you are wrong about mothers."

They all gathered round him in affright, so alarming was hisagitation; and with a fine candour he told them what he hadhitherto concealed.

"Long ago," he said, "I thought like you that my mother wouldalways keep the window open for me, so I stayed away for moonsand moons and moons, and then flew back; but the window wasbarred, for mother had forgotten all about me, and there wasanother little boy sleeping in my bed."

I am not sure that this was true, but Peter thought it wastrue; and it scared them.

"Are you sure mothers are like that?"

"Yes."

So this was the truth about mothers. The toads!

Still it is best to be careful; and no one knows so quickly asa child when he should give in. "Wendy, let us [let's] go home,"cried John and Michael together.

"Yes," she said, clutching them.

"Not to-night?" asked the lost boys bewildered. They knew inwhat they called their hearts that one can get on quite wellwithout a mother, and that it is only the mothers who think youcan't.

"At once," Wendy replied resolutely, for the horrible thoughthad come to her: "Perhaps mother is in half mourning by thistime."

This dread made her forgetful of what must be Peter's feelings,and she said to him rather sharply, "Peter, will you make thenecessary arrangements?"

"If you wish it," he replied, as coolly as if she had asked himto pass the nuts.

Not so much as a sorry-to-lose-you between them! If she didnot mind the parting, he was going to show her, was Peter, thatneither did he.

But of course he cared very much; and he was so full of wrathagainst grown-ups, who, as usual, were spoiling everything, thatas soon as he got inside his tree he breathed intentionally quickshort breaths at the rate of about five to a second. He did thisbecause there is a saying in the Neverland that, every time youbreathe, a grown-up dies; and Peter was killing them offvindictively as fast as possible.

Then having given the necessary instructions to the redskins hereturned to the home, where an unworthy scene had been enacted inhis absence. Panic-stricken at the thought of losing Wendy thelost 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 prisoner."

"Ay, chain her up."

In her extremity an instinct told her to which of them to turn.

"Tootles," she cried, "I appeal to you."

Was it not strange? She appealed to Tootles, quite thesilliest one.

Grandly, however, did Tootles respond. For that one moment hedropped his silliness and spoke with dignity.

"I am just Tootles," he said, "and nobody minds me. But thefirst who does not behave to Wendy like an English gentleman Iwill blood him severely."

He drew back his hanger; and for that instant his sun was atnoon. The others held back uneasily. Then Peter returned, andthey saw at once that they would get no support from him. Hewould keep no girl in the Neverland against her will.

"Wendy," he said, striding up and down, "I have asked theredskins to guide you through the wood, as flying tires you so."

"Thank you, Peter."

"Then," he continued, in the short sharp voice of oneaccustomed to be obeyed, "Tinker Bell will take you across thesea. Wake her, Nibs."

Nibs had to knock twice before he got an answer, though Tinkhad really been sitting up in bed listening for some time.

"Who are you? How dare you? Go away," she cried.

"You are to get up, Tink," Nibs called, "and take Wendy on ajourney."

Of course Tink had been delighted to hear that Wendy was going;but she was jolly well determined not to be her courier, and shesaid so in still more offensive language. Then she pretended tobe asleep again.

"She says she won't!" Nibs exclaimed, aghast at suchinsubordination, whereupon Peter went sternly toward the younglady's chamber.

"Tink," he rapped out, "if you don't get up and dress at once Iwill open the curtains, and then we shall all see you in yournegligee [nightgown]."

This made her leap to the floor. "Who said I wasn't gettingup?" she cried.

In the meantime the boys were gazing very forlornly at Wendy,now equipped with John and Michael for the journey. By this timethey were dejected, not merely because they were about to loseher, but also because they felt that she was going off tosomething nice to which they had not been invited. Novelty wasbeckoning to them as usual.

Crediting them with a nobler feeling Wendy melted.

"Dear ones," she said, "if you will all come with me I feelalmost sure I can get my father and mother to adopt you."

The invitation was meant specially for Peter, but each of theboys was thinking exclusively of himself, and at once they jumpedwith joy.

"But won't they think us rather a handful?" Nibs asked in themiddle of his jump.

"Oh no," said Wendy, rapidly thinking it out, "it will onlymean having a few beds in the drawing-room; they can be hiddenbehind the screens on first Thursdays."

"Peter, can we go?" they all cried imploringly. They took itfor granted that if they went he would go also, but really theyscarcely cared. Thus children are ever ready, when noveltyknocks, to desert their dearest ones.

"All right," Peter replied with a bitter smile, and immediatelythey rushed to get their things.

"And now, Peter," Wendy said, thinking she had put everythingright, "I am going to give you your medicine before you go." Sheloved to give them medicine, and undoubtedly gave them too much. Of course it was only water, but it was out of a bottle, andshe always shook the bottle and counted the drops, which gaveit a certain medicinal quality. On this occasion, however, shedid not give Peter his draught [portion], for just as she hadprepared it, she saw a look on his face that made her heart sink.

"Get your things, Peter," she cried, shaking.

"No," he answered, pretending indifference, "I am not goingwith you, Wendy."

"Yes, Peter."

"No."

To show that her departure would leave him unmoved, he skippedup and down the room, playing gaily on his heartless pipes. Shehad to run about after him, though it was rather undignified.

"To find your mother," she coaxed.

Now, if Peter had ever quite had a mother, he no longer missedher. He could do very well without one. He had thought themout, and remembered only their bad points.

"No, no," he told Wendy decisively; "perhaps she would say Iwas old, and I just want always to be a little boy and to havefun."

"But, Peter -- "

"No."

And so the others had to be told.

"Peter isn't coming."

Peter not coming! They gazed blankly at him, their sticks overtheir backs, and on each stick a bundle. Their first thought wasthat if Peter was not going he had probably changed his mindabout letting them go.

But he was far too proud for that. "If you find your mothers,"he said darkly, "I hope you will like them."

The awful cynicism of this made an uncomfortable impression,and most of them began to look rather doubtful. After all, theirfaces said, were they not noodles to want to go?

"Now then," cried Peter, "no fuss, no blubbering; good-bye,Wendy"; and he held out his hand cheerily, quite as if they mustreally go now, for he had something important to do.

She had to take his hand, and there was no indication that hewould prefer a thimble.

"You will remember about changing your flannels, Peter?" shesaid, lingering over him. She was always so particular abouttheir 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 otherpeople. "Are you ready, Tinker Bell?" he called out.

"Ay, ay."

"Then lead the way."

Tink darted up the nearest tree; but no one followed her, for it was at this moment that the pirates made theirdreadful attack upon the redskins. Above, where all had been sostill, the air was rent with shrieks and the clash of steel. Below, there was dead silence. Mouths opened and remained open. Wendy fell on her knees, but her arms were extended toward Peter. All arms were extended to him, as if suddenly blown in hisdirection; they were beseeching him mutely not to desert them. As for Peter, he seized his sword, the same he thought he hadslain Barbecue with, and the lust of battle was in his eye.