Пітер Пен і Венді
Do You Believe In Fairies?
Thensilentlyhelethimselfgointotheunknown.
Hearrivedunmolestedatthefootoftheshaft,andstoodstillagain,bitingathisbreath,whichhadalmostlefthim.Ashiseyesbecameaccustomedtothedimlightvariousobjectsinthehomeunderthetreestookshape;buttheonlyoneonwhichhisgreedygazerested,longsoughtforandfoundatlast,wasthegreatbed.OnthebedlayPeterfastasleep.
Unawareofthetragedybeingenactedabove,Peterhadcontinued,foralittletimeafterthechildrenleft,toplaygailyonhispipes:nodoubtratheraforlornattempttoprovetohimselfthathedidnotcare.Thenhedecidednottotakehismedicine,soastogrieveWendy.Thenhelaydownonthebedoutsidethecoverlet,tovexherstillmore;forshehadalwaystuckedtheminsideit,becauseyouneverknowthatyoumaynotgrowchillyattheturnofthenight.Thenhenearlycried;butitstruckhimhowindignantshewouldbeifhelaughedinstead;sohelaughedahaughtylaughandfellasleepinthemiddleofit.
Sometimes,thoughnotoften,hehaddreams,andtheyweremorepainfulthanthedreamsofotherboys.Forhourshecouldnotbeseparatedfromthesedreams,thoughhewailedpiteouslyinthem.Theyhadtodo,Ithink,withtheriddleofhisexistence.AtsuchtimesithadbeenWendy’scustomtotakehimoutofbedandsitwithhimonherlap,soothinghimindearwaysofherowninvention,andwhenhegrewcalmertoputhimbacktobedbeforehequitewokeup,sothatheshouldnotknowoftheindignitytowhichshehadsubjectedhim.Butonthisoccasionhehadfallenatonceintoadreamlesssleep.
