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| Home | Reading Room PETER PAN

[James Matthew Barrie]

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Chapter 16


By three bells that morning they were all stirring their stumps

[legs]; for there was a big sea running; and Tootles, the bo'sun,

was among them, with a rope's end in his hand and chewing

tobacco. They all donned pirate clothes cut off at the knee,

shaved smartly, and tumbled up, with the true nautical roll and

hitching their trousers.

It need not be said who was the captain. Nibs and John were

first and second mate. There was a woman aboard. The rest were

tars [sailors] before the mast, and lived in the fo'c'sle. Peter

had already lashed himself to the wheel; but he piped all hands

and delivered a short address to them; said he hoped they would

do their duty like gallant hearties, but that he knew they were

the scum of Rio and the Gold Coast, and if they snapped at him he

would tear them. The bluff strident words struck the note

sailors understood, and they cheered him lustily. Then a few

sharp orders were given, and they turned the ship round, and nosed

her for the mainland.

Captain Pan calculated, after consulting the ship's chart, that

if this weather lasted they should strike the Azores about the

21st of June, after which it would save time to fly.

Some of them wanted it to be an honest ship and others were in

favour of keeping it a pirate; but the captain treated them as

dogs, and they dared not express their wishes to him even in a

round robin [one person after another, as they had to Cpt. Hook].

Instant obedience was the only safe thing. Slightly got a dozen

for looking perplexed when told to take soundings. The general

feeling was that Peter was honest just now to lull Wendy's

suspicions, but that there might be a change when the new suit

was ready, which, against her will, she was making for him out of

some of Hook's wickedest garments. It was afterwards whispered

among them that on the first night he wore this suit he sat long

in the cabin with Hook's cigar-holder in his mouth and one hand

clenched, all but for the forefinger, which he bent and held

threateningly aloft like a hook.

Instead of watching the ship, however, we must now return to

that desolate home from which three of our characters had taken

heartless flight so long ago. It seems a shame to have neglected

No. 14 all this time; and yet we may be sure that Mrs. Darling

does not blame us. If we had returned sooner to look with

sorrowful sympathy at her, she would probably have cried, "Don't

be silly; what do I matter? Do go back and keep an eye on the

children." So long as mothers are like this their children will

take advantage of them; and they may lay to [bet on] that.

Even now we venture into that familiar nursery only because its

lawful occupants are on their way home; we are merely hurrying on

in advance of them to see that their beds are properly aired and

that Mr. and Mrs. Darling do not go out for the evening. We are

no more than servants. Why on earth should their beds be

properly aired, seeing that they left them in such a thankless

hurry? Would it not serve them jolly well right if they came

back and found that their parents were spending the week-end in

the country? It would be the moral lesson they have been in need

of ever since we met them; but if we contrived things in this way

Mrs. Darling would never forgive us.

One thing I should like to do immensely, and that is to tell

her, in the way authors have, that the children are coming back,

that indeed they will be here on Thursday week. This would spoil

so completely the surprise to which Wendy and John and Michael

are looking forward. They have been planning it out on the ship:

mother's rapture, father's shout of joy, Nana's leap through the

air to embrace them first, when what they ought to be prepared

for is a good hiding. How delicious to spoil it all by breaking

the news in advance; so that when they enter grandly Mrs. Darling

may not even offer Wendy her mouth, and Mr. Darling may exclaim

pettishly, "Dash it all, here are those boys again." However, we

should get no thanks even for this. We are beginning to know

Mrs. Darling by this time, and may be sure that she would upbraid

us for depriving the children of their little pleasure.

"But, my dear madam, it is ten days till Thursday week; so that

by telling you what's what, we can save you ten days of unhappiness."

"Yes, but at what a cost! By depriving the children of ten minutes

of delight."

"Oh, if you look at it in that way!"

"What other way is there in which to look at it?"

You see, the woman had no proper spirit. I had meant to say

extraordinarily nice things about her; but I despise her, and not

one of them will I say now. She does not really need to be told

to have things ready, for they are ready. All the beds are aired,

and she never leaves the house, and observe, the window is open.

For all the use we are to her, we might well go back to the ship.

However, as we are here we may as well stay and look on. That is

all we are, lookers-on. Nobody really wants us. So let us watch

and say jaggy things, in the hope that some of them will hurt.

The only change to be seen in the night-nursery is that between

nine and six the kennel is no longer there. When the children

flew away, Mr. Darling felt in his bones that all the blame was

his for having chained Nana up, and that from first to last she

had been wiser than he. Of course, as we have seen, he was quite

a simple man; indeed be might have passed for a boy again if he

had been able to take his baldness off; but he had also a noble

sense of justice and a lion's courage to do what seemed right to

him; and having thought the matter out with anxious care after

the flight of the children, he went down on all fours and crawled

into the kennel. To all Mrs. Darling's dear invitations to him

to come out he replied sadly but firmly:

"No, my own one, this is the place for me."

In the bitterness of his remorse he swore that he would never

leave the kennel until his children came back. Of course this

was a pity; but whatever Mr. Darling did he had to do in excess,

otherwise he soon gave up doing it. And there never was a more

humble man than the once proud George Darling, as he sat in the

kennel of an evening talking with his wife of their children and

all their pretty ways.

Very touching was his deference to Nana. He would not let her

come into the kennel, but on all other matters he followed her

wishes implicitly.

Every morning the kennel was carried with Mr. Darling in it to

a cab, which conveyed him to his office, and he returned home in

the same way at six. Something of the strength of character of

the man will be seen if we remember how sensitive he was to the

opinion of neighbours: this man whose every movement now

attracted surprised attention. Inwardly he must have suffered

torture; but he preserved a calm exterior even when the young

criticised his little home, and he always lifted his hat

courteously to any lady who looked inside.

It may have been Quixotic, but it was magnificent. Soon the

inward meaning of it leaked out, and the great heart of the

public was touched. Crowds followed the cab, cheering it

lustily; charming girls scaled it to get his autograph;

interviews appeared in the better class of papers, and society

invited him to dinner and added, "Do come in the kennel."

On that eventful Thursday week, Mrs. Darling was in the night-

nursery awaiting George's return home; a very sad-eyed woman.

Now that we look at her closely and remember the gaiety of her in

the old days, all gone now just because she has lost her babes, I

find I won't be able to say nasty things about her after all. If

she was too fond of her rubbishy children, she couldn't help it.

Look at her in her chair, where she has fallen asleep. The

corner of her mouth, where one looks first, is almost withered

up. Her hand moves restlessly on her breast as if she had a

pain there. Some like Peter best, and some like Wendy best, but

I like her best. Suppose, to make her happy, we whisper to her

in her sleep that the brats are coming back. They are really

within two miles of the window now, and flying strong, but all

we need whisper is that they are on the way. Let's.

It is a pity we did it, for she has started up, calling their

names; and there is no one in the room but Nana.

"O Nana, I dreamt my dear ones had come back."

Nana had filmy eyes, but all she could do was put her paw

gently on her mistress's lap; and they were sitting together thus

when the kennel was brought back. As Mr. Darling puts his head

out to kiss his wife, we see that his face is more worn than of

yore, but has a softer expression.

He gave his hat to Liza, who took it scornfully; for she had no

imagination, and was quite incapable of understanding the motives

of such a man. Outside, the crowd who had accompanied the cab

home were still cheering, and he was naturally not unmoved.

"Listen to them," he said; "it is very gratifying."

"Lots of little boys," sneered Liza.

"There were several adults to-day," he assured her with a faint

flush; but when she tossed her head he had not a word of reproof for

her. Social success had not spoilt him; it had made him sweeter.

For some time he sat with his head out of the kennel, talking with

Mrs. Darling of this success, and pressing her hand reassuringly

when she said she hoped his head would not be turned by it.

"But if I had been a weak man," he said. "Good heavens, if I

had been a weak man!"

"And, George," she said timidly, "you are as full of remorse as

ever, aren't you?"

"Full of remorse as ever, dearest! See my punishment: living

in a kennel."

"But it is punishment, isn't it, George? You are sure you are

not enjoying it?"

"My love!"

You may be sure she begged his pardon; and then, feeling

drowsy, he curled round in the kennel.

"Won't you play me to sleep," he asked, "on the nursery piano?"

and as she was crossing to the day-nursery he added

thoughtlessly, "And shut that window. I feel a draught."

"O George, never ask me to do that. The window must always be

left open for them, always, always."

Now it was his turn to beg her pardon; and she went into the

day-nursery and played, and soon he was asleep; and while he

slept, Wendy and John and Michael flew into the room.

Oh no. We have written it so, because that was the charming

arrangement planned by them before we left the ship; but

something must have happened since then, for it is not they who

have flown in, it is Peter and Tinker Bell.

Peter's first words tell all.

"Quick Tink," he whipered, "close the window; bar it! That's

right. Now you and I must get away by the door; and when Wendy

comes she will think her mother has barred her out; and she will

have to go back with me."

Now I understand what had hitherto puzzled me, why when Peter

had exterminated the pirates he did not return to the island and

leave Tink to escort the children to the mainland. This trick

had been in his head all the time.

Instead of feeling that he was behaving badly he danced with

glee; then he peeped into the day-nursery to see who was playing.

He whispered to Tink, "It's Wendy's mother! She is a pretty

lady, but not so pretty as my mother. Her mouth is full of

thimbles, but not so full as my mother's was."

Of course he knew nothing whatever about his mother; but he

sometimes bragged about her.

He did not know the tune, which was "Home, Sweet Home," but he

knew it was saying, "Come back, Wendy, Wendy, Wendy"; and he

cried exultantly, "You will never see Wendy again, lady, for the

window is barred!"

He peeped in again to see why the music had stopped, and now he

saw that Mrs. Darling had laid her head on the box, and that two

tears were sitting on her eyes.

"She wants me to unbar the window," thought Peter, "but I

won't, not I!"

He peeped again, and the tears were still there, or another two

had taken their place.

"She's awfully fond of Wendy," he said to himself. He was

angry with her now for not seeing why she could not have Wendy.

The reason was so simple: "I'm fond of her too. We can't both

have her, lady."

But the lady would not make the best of it, and he was unhappy.

He ceased to look at her, but even then she would not let go of

him. He skipped about and made funny faces, but when he stopped

it was just as if she were inside him, knocking.

"Oh, all right," he said at last, and gulped. Then he unbarred

the window. "Come on, Tink," he cried, with a frightful sneer at

the laws of nature; "we don't want any silly mothers"; and he

flew away.

Thus Wendy and John and Michael found the window open for them

after all, which of course was more than they deserved. They

alighted on the floor, quite unashamed of themselves, and the

youngest one had already forgotten his home.

"John," he said, looking around him doubtfully, "I think I have

been here before."

"Of course you have, you silly. There is your old bed."

"So it is," Michael said, but not with much conviction.

"I say," cried John, "the kennel!" and he dashed across to look into it.

"Perhaps Nana is inside it," Wendy said.

But John whistled. "Hullo," he said, "there's a man inside it."

"It's father!" exclaimed Wendy.

"Let me see father," Michael begged eagerly, and he took a good

look. "He is not so big as the pirate I killed," he said with

such frank disappointment that I am glad Mr. Darling was asleep;

it would have been sad if those had been the first words he heard

his little Michael say.

Wendy and John had been taken aback somewhat at finding their

father in the kennel.

"Surely," said John, like one who had lost faith in his memory,

"he used not to sleep in the kennel?"

"John," Wendy said falteringly, "perhaps we don't remember the

old life as well as we thought we did."

A chill fell upon them; and serve them right.

"It is very careless of mother," said that young scoundrel

John, "not to be here when we come back."

It was then that Mrs. Darling began playing again.

"It's mother!" cried Wendy, peeping.

"So it is!" said John.

"Then are you not really our mother, Wendy?" asked Michael, who

was surely sleepy.

"Oh dear!" exclaimed Wendy, with her first real twinge of

remorse [for having gone], "it was quite time we came back,"

"Let us creep in," John suggested, "and put our hands over her eyes."

But Wendy, who saw that they must break the joyous news more

gently, had a better plan.

"Let us all slip into our beds, and be there when she comes in,

just as if we had never been away."

And so when Mrs. Darling went back to the night-nursery to see

if her husband was asleep, all the beds were occupied. The

children waited for her cry of joy, but it did not come. She saw

them, but she did not believe they were there. You see, she saw

them in their beds so often in her dreams that she thought this

was just the dream hanging around her still.

She sat down in the chair by the fire, where in the old days

she had nursed them.

They could not understand this, and a cold fear fell upon all

the three of them.

"Mother!" Wendy cried.

"That's Wendy," she said, but still she was sure it was the dream.


"That's John," she said.

"Mother!" cried Michael. He knew her now.

"That's Michael," she said, and she stretched out her arms for

the three little selfish children they would never envelop again.

Yes, they did, they went round Wendy and John and Michael, who

had slipped out of bed and run to her.

"George, George!" she cried when she could speak; and Mr.

Darling woke to share her bliss, and Nana came rushing in. There

could not have been a lovelier sight; but there was none to see

it except a little boy who was staring in at the window. He had

had ecstasies innumerable that other children can never know; but

he was looking through the window at the one joy from which he

must be for ever barred.



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