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Updated: May 16, 2025
'I think I liked the home under the ground best of all. 'Yes, so do I. What was the last thing Peter ever said to you? 'The last thing he ever said to me was, "Just always be waiting for me, and then some night you will hear me crowing." 'Yes. 'But, alas, he forgot all about me. Wendy said it with a smile. She was as grown up as that. 'What did his crow sound like? Jane asked one evening.
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!
'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 a glass. 'I have 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.
'Lucky you, said Jane. And then one night came the tragedy. It was the spring of the year, and the story had been told for the night, and Jane was now asleep in her bed. Wendy was sitting on the floor, very close to the fire, so as to see to darn, for there was no other light in the nursery; and while she sat darning she heard a crow.
Grandly, however, did Tootles respond. For that one moment he dropped his silliness and spoke with dignity. "I am just Tootles," he said, "and nobody minds me. But the first who does not behave to Wendy like an English gentleman I will blood him severely." He drew back his hanger; and for that instant his sun was at noon. The others held back uneasily.
'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 some one were pulling my hair. 'That must have been Tink. I never knew her so naughty before. And indeed Tink was darting about again, using offensive language.
That is a pretty story, and the end shows how grateful a bird can be; but if we tell it we must also tell the whole adventure of the lagoon, which would of course be telling two adventures rather than just one. A shorter adventure, and quite as exciting, was Tinker Bell's attempt, with the help of some street fairies, to have the sleeping Wendy conveyed on a great floating leaf to the mainland.
"That is a long time ago, sweetheart," says Wendy. "Ah me, how time flies!" "Does it fly," asks the artful child, "the way you flew when you were a little girl?" "The way I flew? Do you know, Jane, I sometimes wonder whether I ever did really fly." "Yes, you did." "The dear old days when I could fly!" "Why can't you fly now, mother?" "Because I am grown up, dearest.
"How clever I am!" he crowed rapturously, "oh, the cleverness of me!" It is humiliating to have to confess that this conceit of Peter was one of his most fascinating qualities. To put it with brutal frankness, there never was a cockier boy. But for the moment Wendy was shocked. "You did a little," Peter said carelessly, and continued to dance.
Everybody was determined to have a peep, and even Tattie mustered up sufficient courage to screw through the narrow portal, though she squealed in the process, and clung tightly to Magsie's hand. Diana and Wendy were among the last to effect the investigation.
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