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.
