Guided Sleep Meditation & Sleep Hypnosis from Sleep Cove - Sleep Story - Peter Pan
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Have you ever gazed in wonder at the Great Pyramid
Have you marvelled at the golden face of Tudankhamun
Or admired the delicate features of Queen Nefertiti
If you have, you'll probably like the History of Egypt podcast
Every week we explore tales of this ancient culture
The history of Egypt is available wherever you get your podcasting fix.
Come, let me introduce you to the world of ancient Egypt.
And welcome to Sleep Cove.
Please listen to the podcast and a place where you can safely go to sleep.
This episode, I'll be reading out the classic story of Peter Pan by J.M. Barry.
This week, the podcast is sponsored by Hello Fresh.
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Now on to the bedtime story.
I will probably read this out in full on my YouTube channel in the next month or so.
So if you want to hear it in full, please check it out there.
And let's begin.
Peter Pan by J.M.
Barry. Chapter 1 Peter breaks through. All children except one grow up. They soon know that 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 that she must grow up.
You always know, after you are two.
Two was the beginning of the end.
Of course they lived at 14, their house number on their street.
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 came from the puzzling east.
However, how many you discover there, 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 got all of her
except the innermost
box and the kiss
he never knew about
the box
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,
but her mother not only loved him but respected him. He was one of those deep ones who know about
stocks and chairs. Of course no one really knows, but he quite seemed to know, and he often said
stocks were up and chairs were down and away that would have made any woman respect.
expect 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 Brussels sprout was missing,
but by whole colour flowers 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 missing. They were
Mrs. Darling's guesses. Wendy came first, then John, then Michael. For a week or two after
Wendy came, it was very doubtful whether they would be able to keep her, as she was another
mouth to feed. Mrs. 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 her.
I have £117 here
And 2 and 6 at the office
I can cut off my coffee at the office
Say 10 shillings
Making 2, 9 and 6
With your 18 and 3 makes 3997
With 5-00 in my chequebook
Makes 8997
And who is that moving
897 dot carry 7
Don't speak
My own
and then 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
yes I said nine seven
the question is
can we try it for a year
on nine nine seven
of course we can George
she cried but she was prejudiced
and wender's favour
and he was really the grander character
of the two
Remember mumps, he warned her almost threateningly.
And off he went again.
Mumps, one pound, that is what I've put down.
But I dare say it would be more like 30 shillings.
Don't speak.
Measles 1-5.
German measles half a guinea.
Makes 2.15, 6.
Don't waggle your finger.
Whooping cough say 15 shillings.
And so it went.
and it added up differently each time, but at last Wendy just got through, with mumps reduced to 12-6, and two kinds 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 time peeping into perambulators
and was much hated by careless nursemaids
whom she followed to their houses and complained of to their mistresses.
She proved to be quite a treasure of a nurse.
How thorough was she 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 stoking around your throat.
She believed to her last day
in the old-fashioned remedies
like rhubarb leaf
and made sounds of content
all over 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 size,
when they were well behaved,
and putting them back into line if they strayed.
On John's footer,
in England soccer, we called football footer for short.
Days she never once forgot his sweater,
and she usually carried an umbrella in her mouth
case of rain.
There is a room in the basement of Mrs. Folsom's school, where the nurses wait.
They sat on forms while Nana lay on the floor, but that was the only difference.
They affected to ignore her as of an inferior social status to themselves, and she despised their
light talk.
She resented visits to the nursery from Mrs. Darling's friends, but if they did she, she,
did come, she first whipped off Michael's pinafore and put him into one with blue braiding
and smoothed out Wendy and made a dash at John's hair. No nursery could possibly have been
more conducted correctly, and Mr. Darling knew it, yet he sometimes wondered uneasily whether
the neighbours talked. He had his position in the city to consider. Nana also troubled him
in another way.
He had sometimes a feeling that she did not admire him.
I know she admires you tremendously, George,
Mrs. Darling would assure him,
and then she would sign to the children
to be specially nice to father.
Lovely dancers followed,
in which the only other servant,
Liza, was sometimes allowed to join.
Such a midget, she looked in her long skirt and maid's cap.
Though she had sworn, when engaged, that she would never see ten again.
The gaiety of those romps, and gayest of all was Mrs. Darling,
who'd pirouette so wildly that all you could see of her was the kiss.
And then, if you had dashed at her, you might have got it.
There was never a simpler, happier family, until the coming of Peter Pan.
first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children's minds.
It was the nightly custom of every good mother
after her children were asleep
to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning.
Repacking into the proper places
that many articles that have wandered during the day.
If you could keep awake,
but of course you can't,
you could see your own mother doing it.
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 had picked the sing up,
making discoveries sweet and not so sweet,
pressing this to her cheek, as if it were,
nice as a kitten and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake up 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
have 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 for the Netherlands 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 princesses
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, 3 pence for pulling out your tooth yourself, and so on.
And either these are part of the island or they are on another map showing them.
And it is all rather confusing, especially as nothing will stand still.
Of course, the Netherlands vary a good deal.
For instance, had a lagoon with flamingos flying over it, which John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoes 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 Netherlands
had a family resemblance
and if they stood still
in a row
you could say of them
that they had each other's noses
and so forth
on these magic shawls
children at play
are forever beaching
their coracles their simple boats
we too have been there
we can still hear the sound of the surf
though we shall land
no more
of all the detectable islands
a never land is the snugness
and most compact
not large and sprawler
you know with tedious
distances between one adventure
and another
but nicely crammed
when you play at it by day
with the chairs and tablecloth
It is not in the least alarming
But in the two minutes before you go to sleep
It becomes very real
That is why there are nightlights
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 his
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 words, 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 is Peter Pan, you know, mother.
And first Mrs. Darling did not know, but after thinking back into her childhood,
she 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 that 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 would be grown up by this time.
Oh no, he isn't grown up, Wendy assured her confidently.
He is just my size.
She meant that he was her size in both mind and body.
She didn't know how she knew.
She just knew it. Mrs. Darling consulted Mr. Darling, but he smiled, poo-poo.
Mark my words, he said. It is some nonsense Nana has been putting into their heads.
Just the sort of an idea a dog would have. Leave it alone and it will blow over.
But it would not blow over. And soon the troublesome boy gave Mrs. Darling quite a shock.
children had 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 had met their dead father and had a game with him.
But 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.
floor, we 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 is that Peter again.
Whatever do you mean, Wendy?
It is so naughty of him not to wipe his feet, Wendy said, sighing.
She was a tidy child.
She explained in quite a matter-of-fact way
But 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
He comes in by the window, she said.
My love, it is 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 had 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 her breakfast.
Oh surely she must have been dreaming,
but on the other hand there were the leaves.
Mrs. Darling examined them very 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.
On the night we speak, of all the children were once more in bed.
It happened to be Nana's evening off, and Mrs. Darling had bathed them and sung to them till one by one they had let go of her hand and slid away into the land of sleep.
looking so safe and cosy, that she smiled at her fears now and sat down tranquilly in the fire to sew.
It was something for Michael, who on his birthday was getting into shirts.
The fire was warm, however, and the nursery dimly lit by three nightlights,
and presently the sewing lay on misty.
Mrs Darling's lap, I had nodded, oh, so gracefully, she was asleep.
Look at the four of them, Wendy and Michael over there, John here, and Mrs. Darling by the fire.
There should have been a fourth night light.
While she slept, she had a dream.
She dreamt that the Netherlands had came too near, and that a strange,
boy had broken through from it. He did not alarm her, for she thought she had seen him
before in the faces of many women who have no children. Perhaps he is to be found in faces of
faces of some mothers also. But in her dreams, he had rent the film that obscures the
Neverland, and she saw Wendy and John and Michael peeping through the gap.
The dream by itself would have been trifle, but while she was dreaming the window of the nursery
blew open, and a boy did drop on the floor. He was accompanied by a strange light,
no bigger than your fist, which darted around the room, like a living thing, and I think it must have been the
night, the wakened Mrs. Darling. She startled up with a cry and saw the boy, and somehow
she knew at once he was Peter Pan, if you or I or Wendy had been there. You would have seen
that 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.
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Chapter 2 The Shadow
Mrs. Darling screamed, as if in answer to a bell, the door opened, and Nana entered, returned
from her evening out. She growled and sprang at the boy, who leapt lightly
through the window. Again Mrs. Darling screamed, this time in distress for him, for she thought
he was killed, as she ran into the street to look for his little body. But it was not there,
as she looked up, and in the black of 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 out of the window, Nana had closed it quickly, too late to catch him, but his shadow
had not time to get out. Slam went the window and it snapped 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 with this shadow
She hung it out of the window meaning
He is sure to come back for it
Let us put it there where he can get it easily
Without disturbing the children
But unfortunately Mrs Darling could not leave it hanging out of the window
It looks so like the washing
And lowered the whole tone of the house
She thought of showing it to Mr Darling
But he was totting up winter greatcoats for John and Michael
With a wet towel around his head to keep his brain clear
And it seemed a shame to trouble him
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,
ah me.
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 always said, I am responsible for it all. I, George Darling did it, mere culper, mea culper.
He had had a classical education.
They sat thus night after night recalling that fatal Friday, till every detail of it was stamped on their brains and came through on the other side like the fatal Friday.
on a bad quenage.
If only I had not accepted that invitation to dine at 27,
Mrs. Darling said,
If only I had not poured my medicines into Nana's bowl,
said Mr. Darling.
If only I had pretended to like the medicine
was what Nana's wet eyes said.
My liking for parties, George,
my fatal gift of humour dearest.
My touchiness about trifles near master and mistress.
Then one or more of them would break down altogether.
Nana at the thought,
It's true, it's true.
They ought not to have had a dog for a nurse.
Many a time it was Mr. Darling who had put the handkerchief to Nana's eyes.
That fiend to Mr. Darling would cry,
and Nana's bark was the echo of it.
but Mrs Darling had never unbraided Peter
there was something on the right corner of her mouth
that wanted her not to call Peter names
they would sit in that empty nursery
recalling fondly every smallness 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 buck.
I won't go to bed, he shouted.
Like one who still believed that he had the last word on the subject.
I won't, I won't.
Nana, it isn't six o'clock yet.
Oh dear, oh dear, I shan't love you anymore, Nana.
I tell you, I won't be bathed, I won't, I won't.
Then Mrs. Darling came 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 loved to lend her bracelet to her mother.
She found her two older children playing it being herself and father on the occasion of Wendy's birth.
And John was saying,
I am happy to inform you, Mrs Darling, that you are now a mother, in just such a tone as Mr Darling himself would have used on the real occasion.
Wendy had dant with joy, just as the real Mrs. Darling must have done.
Then John was born with the extra pomp that he conceived due to the birth of a male,
and Michael came from his bath to ask to be born also.
But John said brutally,
that they did not want any more.
Michael had nearly cried.
Nobody wants me, he said.
And 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 had leapt into her arms.
Such a little thing for a 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.
They'd go on with their recollections.
It was then that I rushed in like a tornado, wasn't it?
Mr Darling would say, scorning himself, and indeed he had been like a tornado.
Perhaps there was some excuse for him.
He too had been dressed for the party, and all had been.
had gone well with him until he came to his tie. It is an outstanding thing to have to tell
that this man, though he knew about stocks and chairs, had no real mastery of the tie. Sometimes the
thing yielded to him without a contest, but there were occasions when it would have been better
for the house if he had swallowed his bride and used a made-up tie. There was such an occasion
He came rushing into the nursery
With a crumpled little brute of a tie in his hand
Why, what is the matter, Father dear?
Matter, he yelled
He really yelled
This tie, it will not tie
He became dangerously sarcastic
Not round my neck
Round the bedpost
Oh yes, 20 times I've made it round the bedpost
But round my neck, no
Oh dear, no
begs to be excused.
He thought Mrs. Darling was not sufficiently impressed,
and he went on sternly.
I warn you of this, Mother,
that unless this ties round my neck,
we don't go out to dinner tonight,
and if I don't go out to dinner tonight,
I will never go to the office again,
and if I don't go to the office again,
you and I starve,
and our children will be flung into the streets.
Even then Mrs. Darling was
placard. Let me try dear, she said. And indeed, that was what he had come to ask her to do.
And with her nice cool hands, she tied his tie for him, while the children stood around to see
their fate decided. Some men would have resented her being able to do it so easily,
but Mr. Darling had far too fine a nature for that.
He thanked her carelessly and at once forgot his rage, and in another moment was dancing round the room with Michael on his back.
How wildly we romped, says Mrs. Darling now recalling it.
Our last romp, Mr. Darling groaned.
Oh George, do you remember Michael suddenly said to me,
How do you get to know me, mother?
I remember.
They were rather sweet, don't you think, George?
And they were hours, hours, and now they are gone.
The romp had ended with the appearance of Nana,
and most unluckily, Mr Darling collided against her,
covering his trousers with hairs.
There were not only new trousers,
but they were the first he had with braid on them,
and he had to bite his lip to prevent the tears come.
Of course Mrs Darling brushed him, but he began to talk again about it being a mistake to having a dog for a nurse.
George, Nana is a treasure, no doubt, but I have an easy feeling at times that she looks at the children as puppies.
Oh no, dear one, I feel sure she knows they have souls.
I wonder, Mr Darling said thoughtfully.
I wonder.
It was an opportunity his wife felt, but telling him about the boy.
At first he poo-pooed the story, but he became thoughtful when she showed him the shadow.
It is no one I know, he said, exclaiming it carefully, but it does look like a scoundrel.
We were discussing it, you remember, says Mr Darling.
When Nana came in with Michael's medicine,
You will never carry that bottle in your mouth again, Nana, and it is all my fault.
Strong man, though he was, there was no doubt that he had behaved rather foolishly over the medicine.
If he had a weakness, it was for thinking that all his life he had taken medicine boldly.
And now, when Michael dodged the spoon in Nana's mouth, he said, reprovingly, be a man, Michael.
Won't, won't, Michael cried naughtily.
Mrs. Darling left the room to get a chocolate for him,
and Mr. Darling thought this showed want of firmness.
Mother, don't pamper him, he called after her.
Michael, when I was your age, I took medicine without a murmur, I said.
Thank you, kind parents, for giving me bottles to make me well.
You really thought this was true.
and Wendy, who was now in her nightgown, believed it also,
as she said to encourage Michael,
that medicine you sometimes take, father, is much nastier, isn't it?
Ever so much nastier, Mr Darling said bravely.
I would take it now as an example to you, Michael,
if I hadn't lost the bottle.
He had not exactly lost it.
He had climbed in the dead of night to the top of the wardrobe,
and hidden it there.
What he did not know
was that the faithful Liza
had found it
and put it back
on his washstand.
I know where it is
father, Wendy cried.
Always glad to be of service.
I'll bring it.
As she went off
before he could stop her.
Immediately his spirit
sank in the strangest way.
John, he said shuddering,
it's most beastly stuff.
It's that nasty, sticky.
sweet kind.
It will soon be over, Father, John said cheerily,
and then in rushed Wendy with the medicine in glass.
I've been as quick as I could, she panted.
You have been wonderfully quick, her father retorted,
with a vindictive politeness that was quite thrown away upon her.
Michael first, he said doggedly.
Father first, said Michael, who was of a suspicious nature.
I shall be sick, you know, Mr.
darling said threateningly.
Come on, father, said John.
Hold your tongue, John, his father wrapped out.
Wendy was quite puzzled.
I thought you took it quite easily, father.
That is not the point he retorted.
The point is that there is more in my glass than in Michael's spoon.
His proud heart was a lady bursting,
and it isn't fair, I would say, though, it were, with my last breath.
It isn't fair.
Father, I am waiting, said Michael coldly.
It is all very well to say you are waiting, so am I waiting?
Fathers are cowardly custard.
So are you a cowardly custard.
I'm not frightened.
Neither am I frightened.
Well then take it.
Well then you take it.
Wendy had a splendid idea.
Why not both take it at the same time?
Certainly, said Mr. Darling, are you ready, Michael?
Wendy gave the words one, two, three, and Michael took his medicine, but Mr. Darling slipped
his behind his back. There was a yell of rage from Michael, and, oh father, Wendy exclaimed.
What do you mean by, oh father, Mr. Darling demanded?
Stop that round, Michael. I meant to take mine, but I, I missed it.
It was dreadful the way all three were looking at him, just if they did not admire him.
Look here all of you, he said, entreatingly.
As soon as Nana has gone to the bathroom, I have just thought of a splendid joke.
I shall pour my medicine into Nana's bowl, and she would drink it, thinking it is milk.
It was the colour of milk, but the children did not have their father's sense of humour.
and they looked at him reproachfully as he pulled the medicine into Nana's bowl.
What fun, he said doubtfully,
and they did not dare expose him when Mrs. Darling and Nana returned.
Nana, good dog, he said, patting her.
I've put a little milk into your bowl, Nana.
Nana wapped her tail, ran to the medicine and began lapping it.
Then she gave Mr. Darling such a look.
Not an angry look.
She showed him the great red tear
that makes her so sorry for noble dogs
and crept into her kennel.
Mr. Darling was frightfully ashamed of himself,
but he would not give in.
In a horrid silence,
Mrs. Darling smelt the bowl.
Oh, George, she said,
It's your medicine.
It was only a joke you ruled.
While she comforted her boys
and Wendy Hugged Nana.
Much good, he said bitterly.
My wearing myself to the bone,
trying to be funny in this house.
And still Wendy Huggedana.
That's right, he shouted.
Cuddle her.
Nobody coddles me.
Oh dear, no.
I am only the breadwinner.
Why should I be coddled?
Why, why, why?
George, Mrs. Darling and treated him.
Not so loud.
the servants will hear you.
Somehow they had got into the way
of calling Liza the servants.
Let them, he answered recklessly.
Bring in the whole world,
but I refuse to allow that dog
to lord it in my nursery
for an hour longer.
The children wept
and Nana ran into him beseechingly
but he waved her back.
He felt he was a strong man.
in vain in vain he cried the proper place for you is in the yard and there you go to be tied up this instant george george mrs darling whispered remember what i told you about the boy alas he would not listen he was determined to show who was the master in that house and when commands would not draw nana from the kennel he lured her out with honeyed words
and seizing her roughly, dragged her up from the nursery,
he was ashamed of himself, and yet he did it.
It was all owing to his too affectionate nature which crave for admiration.
When he tied her back up in the yard,
the wretched father went and sat in the passage with his knuckles to his eyes.
In the meantime, Mrs. Darling had put the children to bed,
in unwontent silence and lit their nightlights.
They could hear Nana barking and John whimpered.
It is because he is chaining her up in the yard.
But Wendy was wiser.
That is not Nana's an happy bark, she said,
little guessing what it was about to happen.
That is her bark when she smells danger.
Danger.
Are you sure, Wendy?
Oh yes
Mrs Darling quivered and went to the window
It was securely fastened
She looked out and the night was peppered with stars
They were crowding round the house
As if curious to see
What was to take place there
But she did not notice this
Nor that one or two of the smaller ones winked at her
Yet a nameless fear
clutched at her heart and made her cry,
Oh, I wish that I wasn't going to a party.
Even Michael already half asleep,
knew that she was perturbed,
and he asked,
Can anything harm his mother after the nightlights are lit?
Nothing precious, she said.
There are the eyes and mother leaves behind to guard her children.
She went from bed to bed,
singing enchantments over them
and little Michael
flung his arms around her
mother he cried
I'm glad of you
they were the last word she was
to hear from him for a long time
number 27 was only a few yards
distant
but there had been a slight
fall of snow
and mother and father darling
picked their way over it
deftly not to soil
their shoes
They were already the only persons in the street
And all the stars were watching them
Stars are beautiful
But they may not take an active part in anything
They may just look
On forever
It is a punishment
Put on them
But something they did not so long ago
Then no star
Now knows what it was
So the older ones have become
Glassy-eyed and seldom spit
speak. Winking is the star language, but the little ones still wonder, they are not really friendly to Peter, who had a mischievous way of stealing up behind them and trying to blow them out, but they are so fond of fun that they were on his side tonight, and anxious to get grown-ups out of the way.
Soon as the door of 27 closed on Mr and Mrs Darling there was a commotion in the firmament and the smallest of all the stars in the Milky Way screamed out now Peter
