10. Chapter X. THE HAPPY HOME

Peter Pan / PETER AND WENDY / 彼得·潘

1One important result of the brush on the lagoon was that it made the redskins their friends. Peter had saved Tiger Lily from a dreadful fate, and now there was nothing she and her braves would not do for him. All night they sat above, keeping watch over the home under the ground and awaiting the big attack by the pirates which obviously could not be much longer delayed. Even by day they hung about, smoking the pipe of peace, and looking almost as if they wanted tit-bits to eat.

2They called Peter the Great White Father, prostrating themselves before him; and he liked this tremendously, so that it was not really good for him.

3The great white father,” he would say to them in a very lordly manner, as they grovelled at his feet, “is glad to see the Piccaninny warriors protecting his wigwam from the pirates.”

4Me Tiger Lily,” that lovely creature would reply. Peter Pan save me, me his velly nice friend. Me no let pirates hurt him.”

5She was far too pretty to cringe in this way, but Peter thought it his due, and he would answer condescendingly, “It is good. Peter Pan has spoken.”

6Always when he said, “Peter Pan has spoken,” it meant that they must now shut up, and they accepted it humbly in that spirit; but they were by no means so respectful to the other boys, whom they looked upon as just ordinary braves. They saidHow-do?” to them, and things like that; and what annoyed the boys was that Peter seemed to think this all right.

7Secretly Wendy sympathised with them a little, but she was far too loyal a housewife to listen to any complaints against father. Father knows best,” she always said, whatever her private opinion must be. Her private opinion was that the redskins should not call her a squaw.

8We have now reached the evening that was to be known among them as the Night of Nights, because of its adventures and their upshot. The day, as if quietly gathering its forces, had been almost uneventful, and now the redskins in their blankets were at their posts above, while, below, the children were having their evening meal; all except Peter, who had gone out to get the time. The way you got the time on the island was to find the crocodile, and then stay near him till the clock struck.

9The meal happened to be a make-believe tea, and they sat around the board, guzzling in their greed; and really, what with their chatter and recriminations, the noise, as Wendy said, was positively deafening. To be sure, she did not mind noise, but she simply would not have them grabbing things, and then excusing themselves by saying that Tootles had pushed their elbow. There was a fixed rule that they must never hit back at meals, but should refer the matter of dispute to Wendy by raising the right arm politely and saying, “I complain of so-and-so;” but what usually happened was that they forgot to do this or did it too much.

10Silence,” cried Wendy when for the twentieth time she had told them that they were not all to speak at once. Is your mug empty, Slightly darling?”

11Not quite empty, mummy,” Slightly said, after looking into an imaginary mug.

12He hasn’t even begun to drink his milk,” Nibs interposed.

13This was telling, and Slightly seized his chance.

14I complain of Nibs,” he cried promptly.

15John, however, had held up his hand first.

16Well, John?”

17May I sit in Peters chair, as he is not here?”

18Sit in fathers chair, John!” Wendy was scandalised. Certainly not.”

19He is not really our father,” John answered. He didn’t even know how a father does till I showed him.”

20This was grumbling. We complain of John,” cried the twins.

21Tootles held up his hand. He was so much the humblest of them, indeed he was the only humble one, that Wendy was specially gentle with him.

22I dont suppose,” Tootles said diffidently, “that I could be father.”

23No, Tootles.”

24Once Tootles began, which was not very often, he had a silly way of going on.

25As I cant be father,” he said heavily, “I dont suppose, Michael, you would let me be baby?”

26No, I wont,” Michael rapped out. He was already in his basket.

27As I cant be baby,” Tootles said, getting heavier and heavier and heavier, “do you think I could be a twin?”

28No, indeed,” replied the twins; “its awfully difficult to be a twin.”

29As I cant be anything important,” said Tootles, “would any of you like to see me do a trick?”

30No,” they all replied.

31Then at last he stopped. I hadn’t really any hope,” he said.

32The hateful telling broke out again.

33Slightly is coughing on the table.”

34The twins began with cheese-cakes.”

35Curly is taking both butter and honey.”

36Nibs is speaking with his mouth full.”

37I complain of the twins.”

38I complain of Curly.”

39I complain of Nibs.”

40Oh dear, oh dear,” cried Wendy, “Im sure I sometimes think that spinsters are to be envied.”

41She told them to clear away, and sat down to her work-basket, a heavy load of stockings and every knee with a hole in it as usual.

42Wendy,” remonstrated Michael, “Im too big for a cradle.”

43I must have somebody in a cradle,” she said almost tartly, “and you are the littlest. A cradle is such a nice homely thing to have about a house.”

44While she sewed they played around her; such a group of happy faces and dancing limbs lit up by that romantic fire. It had become a very familiar scene, this, in the home under the ground, but we are looking on it for the last time.

45There was a step above, and Wendy, you may be sure, was the first to recognize it.

46Children, I hear your fathers step. He likes you to meet him at the door.”

47Above, the redskins crouched before Peter.

48Watch well, braves. I have spoken.”

49And then, as so often before, the gay children dragged him from his tree. As so often before, but never again.

50He had brought nuts for the boys as well as the correct time for Wendy.

51Peter, you just spoil them, you know,” Wendy simpered.

52Ah, old lady,” said Peter, hanging up his gun.

53It was me told him mothers are called old lady,” Michael whispered to Curly.

54I complain of Michael,” said Curly instantly.

55The first twin came to Peter. Father, we want to dance.”

56Dance away, my little man,” said Peter, who was in high good humour.

57But we want you to dance.”

58Peter was really the best dancer among them, but he pretended to be scandalised.

59Me! My old bones would rattle!”

60And mummy too.”

61What,” cried Wendy, “the mother of such an armful, dance!”

62But on a Saturday night,” Slightly insinuated.

63It was not really Saturday night, at least it may have been, for they had long lost count of the days; but always if they wanted to do anything special they said this was Saturday night, and then they did it.

64Of course it is Saturday night, Peter,” Wendy said, relenting.

65People of our figure, Wendy!”

66But it is only among our own progeny.”

67True, true.”

68So they were told they could dance, but they must put on their nighties first.

69Ah, old lady,” Peter said aside to Wendy, warming himself by the fire and looking down at her as she sat turning a heel, “there is nothing more pleasant of an evening for you and me when the days toil is over than to rest by the fire with the little ones near by.”

70It is sweet, Peter, isn’t it?” Wendy said, frightfully gratified. Peter, I think Curly has your nose.”

71Michael takes after you.”

72She went to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

73Dear Peter,” she said, “with such a large family, of course, I have now passed my best, but you dont want to change me, do you?”

74No, Wendy.”

75Certainly he did not want a change, but he looked at her uncomfortably, blinking, you know, like one not sure whether he was awake or asleep.

76Peter, what is it?”

77I was just thinking,” he said, a little scared. It is only make-believe, isn’t it, that I am their father?”

78Oh yes,” Wendy said primly.

79You see,” he continued apologetically, “it would make me seem so old to be their real father.”

80But they are ours, Peter, yours and mine.”

81But not really, Wendy?” he asked anxiously.

82Not if you dont wish it,” she replied; and she distinctly heard his sigh of relief. Peter,” she asked, trying to speak firmly, “what are your exact feelings to me?”

83Those of a devoted son, Wendy.”

84I thought so,” she said, and went and sat by herself at the extreme end of the room.

85You are so queer,” he said, frankly puzzled, “and Tiger Lily is just the same. There is something she wants to be to me, but she says it is not my mother.”

86No, indeed, it is not,” Wendy replied with frightful emphasis. Now we know why she was prejudiced against the redskins.

87Then what is it?”

88It isn’t for a lady to tell.”

89Oh, very well,” Peter said, a little nettled. Perhaps Tinker Bell will tell me.”

90Oh yes, Tinker Bell will tell you,” Wendy retorted scornfully. She is an abandoned little creature.”

91Here Tink, who was in her bedroom, eavesdropping, squeaked out something impudent.

92She says she glories in being abandoned,” Peter interpreted.

93He had a sudden idea. Perhaps Tink wants to be my mother?”

94You silly ass!” cried Tinker Bell in a passion.

95She had said it so often that Wendy needed no translation.

96I almost agree with her,” Wendy snapped. Fancy Wendy snapping! But she had been much tried, and she little knew what was to happen before the night was out. If she had known she would not have snapped.

97None of them knew. Perhaps it was best not to know. Their ignorance gave them one more glad hour; and as it was to be their last hour on the island, let us rejoice that there were sixty glad minutes in it. They sang and danced in their night-gowns. Such a deliciously creepy song it was, in which they pretended to be frightened at their own shadows, little witting that so soon shadows would close in upon them, from whom they would shrink in real fear. So uproariously gay was the dance, and how they buffeted each other on the bed and out of it! It was a pillow fight rather than a dance, and when it was finished, the pillows insisted on one bout more, like partners who know that they may never meet again. The stories they told, before it was time for Wendys good-night story! Even Slightly tried to tell a story that night, but the beginning was so fearfully dull that it appalled not only the others but himself, and he said gloomily:

98Yes, it is a dull beginning. I say, let us pretend that it is the end.”

99And then at last they all got into bed for Wendys story, the story they loved best, the story Peter hated. Usually when she began to tell this story he left the room or put his hands over his ears; and possibly if he had done either of those things this time they might all still be on the island. But to-night he remained on his stool; and we shall see what happened.