“O Wendy, your mother was telling you such a lovely story!”

“Which story was it?”

“About the prince who couldn’t find the lady who wore the glass slipper.”

“Peter,” said Wendy excitedly, “that was Cinderella[31], and he found her, and they lived happily ever after.”

Peter was so glad that he rose from the floor, where they were sitting, and hurried to the window.

“Where are you going?” she cried.

“I must go back now, the boys will be anxious to hear the end of the story about the Prince and the Glass Slipper. I told them as much as I knew, and they want to hear the rest[32].”

“Don’t go Peter,” she entreated, “I know such lots of stories. I’ll tell you lots more, ever so many stories.”

Wendy begged him to stay. He came back, and there was a greedy look in his eyes. Peter gripped her and began to draw her toward the window.

“Let me go![33]” she ordered him.

“Come, Wendy! Come with me and tell the other boys. You can tell us all the stories there, and darn our clothes, and tuck us in at night.”

“Oh dear, I can’t. Think of Mummy! Besides, I can’t fly.”

“I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you how to jump on the wind’s back, and then away we go.”

This was too much for her. “Oo!” she exclaimed.

“Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you could fly with me and talk to the stars.”

“Oo!”

“And, Wendy, there are mermaids.”

“Mermaids! With tails?”

“Such long tails.”

“Oh,” cried Wendy, “to see a mermaid!”

“Wendy,” said Peter, “we shall all respect you.”

“Peter, will you teach John and Michael to fly as well?”

“Yes, if you like,” he said indifferently, and she ran to John and Michael and shook them. “Wake up,” she cried, “Peter Pan is here, and he will teach us to fly.”

John rubbed his eyes. “Then I shall get up,” he said. Of course he was on the floor already. “Hallo,” he said. Michael woke up, too.

“Peter,” asked John. “Can you really fly?”

Peter flew around the room.

“How sweet![34]” cried Wendy.

“Yes, I’m sweet, oh, I am sweet!” said Peter.

Children tried to fly from the floor and then from the beds, but they always went down instead of up.

“How do you do it?” asked John. He was quite a practical boy.

“I must blow the fairy dust on you,” and Peter blew some on each of them.

“Now just wiggle your shoulders,” he said, “and let go.”

So they tried, and found that they could fly; just a little at first, from the bed to the floor and back again; then over the bed and across the room. “Oh, lovely! We can fly! Look at me!”

“Look at me!”

“Look at me!”

“Let’s fly out!” cried John.

Michael was ready, but Wendy hesitated.

“Mermaids!” said Peter again.

“Oo!”

“And there are pirates.”

“Pirates,” cried John “let us go at once[35].”

“Tink, lead the way!” called Peter. None of the children had time to put on their day clothes, but John snatched his top hat as he flew out of the window, followed by Michael. Peter Pan held Wendy’s hand, and away they floated into the dark blue depths of the starry night.

A minute afterwards Mrs. Darling, who returned from the party, rushed into the nursery with Nana. But it was too late. The children were already on their way to the Neverland.

“Second to the right, and straight on till morning.”

That, Peter told Wendy, was the way to the Neverland. Peter just said anything that came into his head.

They were flying over the sea. Sometimes it was dark and sometimes light, and now they were very cold and again too warm.

Sometimes they were sleepy; and that was a danger, because they began to fall down. The awful thing was that Peter thought this funny.

“There he goes again!” he cried, as Michael suddenly dropped like a stone.