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Updated: June 16, 2025
'I don't want to be a man. O Wendy's mother, if I was to wake up and feel there was a beard! 'Peter, said Wendy the comforter, 'I should love you in a beard'; and Mrs. Darling stretched out her arms to him, but he repulsed her. 'Keep back, lady, no one is going to catch me and make me a man. 'But where are you going to live? 'With Tink in the house we built for Wendy.
They were awfully nice little night-lights, and one cannot help wishing that they could have kept awake to see Peter; but Wendy's light blinked and gave such a yawn that the other two yawned also, and before they could close their mouths all the three went out.
She had found her two older children playing at 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 may have used on the real occasion. Wendy had danced with joy, just as the real Mrs. Darling must have done.
The others did not hear her. They had crowded round Wendy, and as they looked a terrible silence fell upon the wood. If Wendy's heart had been beating they would all have heard it. Slightly was the first to speak. 'This is no bird, he said in a scared voice. 'I think it must be a lady. 'A lady? said Tootles, and fell a-trembling. 'And we have killed her, Nibs said hoarsely.
They were not nearly so elegant as Peter, they could not help kicking a little, but their heads were bobbing against the ceiling, and there is almost nothing so delicious as that. Peter gave Wendy a hand at first, but had to desist, Tink was so indignant. Up and down they went, and round and round. Heavenly was Wendy's word. 'I say, cried John, 'why shouldn't we all go out!
I tell you I won't be bathed, I won't, I won't!" Then Mrs. Darling had come in, wearing her white evening-gown. She had dressed early because Wendy so loved to see her in her evening-gown, with the 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.
Even Slightly tried to tell a story that night, but the beginning was so fearfully dull that it appalled even himself, and he said gloomily: 'Yes, it is a dull beginning. I say, let us pretend that it is the end. And then at last they all got into bed for Wendy's story, the story they loved best, the story Peter hated.
They were awfully nice little night-lights, and one cannot help wishing that they could have kept awake to see Peter; but Wendy's light blinked and gave such a yawn that the other two yawned also, and before they could close their mouths all the three went out.
John said, aghast. "Why, she is only a girl!" "That," explained Curly, "is why we are her servants." "You? Wendy's servants!" "Yes," said Peter, "and you also. Away with them." The astounded brothers were dragged away to hack and hew and carry. "Then we shall build a house round them." "Ay," said Slightly, "that is how a house is built; it all comes back to me." Peter thought of everything.
Sang Huin felt pleasure from this little minute of his life as if all sweet and little moments were not gone altogether; and his nausea from believing that all human beings perceived each other as a voracious fulfilling of appetites diminished. From the cannibalism of sexual excess, he ate a salad at Wendy's restaurant despite its exorbitant price and the one plate serving rule.
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