Белая птичка
Peter Pan
“Good-bye,”repliedSolomonCawwithaqueerlook.
ButPeterhesitated.“Whydon’tyougo?”theoldoneaskedpolitely.
“Isuppose,”saidPeterhuskily,“IsupposeIcanstillfly?”
Yousee,hehadlostfaith.
“Poorlittlehalf-and-half,”saidSolomon,whowasnotreallyhard-hearted,“youwillneverbeabletoflyagain,notevenonwindydays.Youmustlivehereontheislandalways.”
“AndneverevengototheKensingtonGardens?”Peteraskedtragically.
“Howcouldyougetacross?”saidSolomon.Hepromisedverykindly,however,toteachPeterasmanyofthebirdwaysascouldbelearnedbyoneofsuchanawkwardshape.
“ThenIsha’n’tbeexactlyahuman?”Peterasked.
“No.”
“Norexactlyabird?”
“No.”
“WhatshallIbe?”
“YouwillbeaBetwixt-and-Between,”Solomonsaid,andcertainlyhewasawiseoldfellow,forthatisexactlyhowitturnedout.
Thebirdsontheislandnevergotusedtohim.Hisodditiestickledthemeveryday,asiftheywerequitenew,thoughitwasreallythebirdsthatwerenew.Theycameoutoftheeggsdaily,andlaughedathimatonce,thenofftheysoonflewtobehumans,andotherbirdscameoutofothereggs,andsoitwentonforever.Thecraftymother-birds,whentheytiredofsittingontheireggs,usedtogettheyoungonetobreaktheirshellsadaybeforetherighttimebywhisperingtothemthatnowwastheirchancetoseePeterwashingordrinkingoreating.
