Пітер Пен і Венді

The Happy Home

           

           ’Me!Myoldboneswouldrattle.’

           ’Andmummytoo.’

           ’What,’criedWendy,’themotherofsuchanarmful,dance!’

           ’ButonaSaturdaynight,’Slightlyinsinuated.

           ItwasnotreallySaturdaynight,atleastitmayhavebeen,fortheyhadlonglostcountofthedays;butalwaysiftheywantedtodoanythingspecialtheysaidthiswasSaturdaynight,andthentheydidit.

           ’OfcourseitisSaturdaynight,Peter,’Wendysaid,relenting.

           ’Peopleofourfigure,Wendy.’

           ’Butitisonlyamongourownprogeny.’

           ’True,true.’

           Sotheyweretoldtheycoulddance,buttheymustputontheirnightiesfirst.

           ’Ah,oldlady,’PetersaidasidetoWendy,warminghimselfbythefireandlookingdownatherasshesatturningaheel,’thereisnothingmorepleasant,ofaneveningforyouandmewhentheday’stoilisoverthantorestbythefirewiththelittleonesnearby.’

           ’Itissweet,Peter,isn’tit?’Wendysaid,frightfullygratified.’Peter,IthinkCurlyhasyournose.’

           ’Michaeltakesafteryou.’

           Shewenttohimandputherhandonhisshoulder.

           ’DearPeter,’shesaid,’withsuchalargefamily,ofcourse,Ihavenowpassedmybest,butyoudon’twanttochangeme,doyou?’

           ’No,Wendy.’

           Certainlyhedidnotwantachange,buthelookedatheruncomfortably;blinking,youknow,likeonenotsurewhetherhewasawakeorasleep.

           ’Peter,whatisit?’

           ’Iwasjustthinking,’hesaid,alittlescared.’Itisonlymake-believe,isn’tit,thatIamtheirfather?’

           ’Ohyes,’Wendysaidprimly.

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