Белая птичка

           Abandofworkmen,whoweresawingdownatoadstool,rushedaway,leavingtheirtoolsbehindthem.Amilkmaidturnedherpailupsidedownandhidinit.SoontheGardenswereinanuproar.Crowdsoffairieswererunningthisawayandthat,askingeachotherstoutly,whowasafraid,lightswereextinguished,doorsbarricaded,andfromthegroundsofQueenMab’spalacecametherubadubofdrums,showingthattheroyalguardhadbeencalledout.AregimentofLancerscamechargingdowntheBroadWalk,armedwithholly-leaves,withwhichtheyjogtheenemyhorriblyinpassing.PeterheardthelittlepeoplecryingeverywherethattherewasahumanintheGardensafterLock-outTime,butheneverthoughtforamomentthathewasthehuman.Hewasfeelingstuffierandstuffier,andmoreandmorewistfultolearnwhathewanteddonetohisnose,buthepursuedthemwiththevitalquestioninvain;thetimidcreaturesranfromhim,andeventheLancers,whenheapproachedthemuptheHump,turnedswiftlyintoaside-walk,onthepretencethattheysawhimthere.

           Despairingofthefairies,heresolvedtoconsultthebirds,butnowheremembered,asanoddthing,thatallthebirdsontheweepingbeechhadflownawaywhenhealightedonit,andthoughthathadnottroubledhimatthetime,hesawitsmeaningnow.Everylivingthingwasshunninghim.PoorlittlePeterPan,hesatdownandcried,andeventhenhedidnotknowthat,forabird,hewassittingonhiswrongpart.