“Oh! But, Peter, why did you come to our nursery window?”
“You see, I don’t know any stories. None of the Lost Boys knows any stories.”
“How perfectly awful,” Wendy said.
Peter came to listen to the lovely stories Wendy’s mother related to her children, for the Lost Boys had no mothers, and no one to tell them any stories. He also told her how he led them against their enemies, the pirates and the wolves, and how they liked to bath in the Lagoon, where beautiful mermaids sang and swam all day long.
“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.