Пітер Пен і Венді
Come Away, Come Away!
’Secondtotheright,’saidPeter,’andthenstraightontillmorning.’
’Whatafunnyaddress!’
Peterhadasinking.Forthefirsttimehefeltthatperhapsitwasafunnyaddress.
’No,itisn’t,’hesaid.
’Imean,’Wendysaidnicely,rememberingthatshewashostess,’isthatwhattheyputontheletters?’
Hewishedshehadnotmentionedletters.
’Don’tgetanyletters,’hesaidcontemptuously.
’Butyourmothergetsletters?’
’Don’thaveamother,’hesaid.Notonlyhadhenomother,buthehadnottheslightestdesiretohaveone.Hethoughtthemveryoverratedpersons.Wendy,however,feltatoncethatshewasinthepresenceofatragedy.
’OPeter,nowonderyouwerecrying,’shesaid,andgotoutofbedandrantohim.
’Iwasn’tcryingaboutmothers,’hesaidratherindignantly.’IwascryingbecauseIcan’tgetmyshadowtostickon.Besides,Iwasn’tcrying.’
’Ithascomeoff?’
’Yes.’
ThenWendysawtheshadowonthefloor,lookingsodraggled,andshewasfrightfullysorryforPeter.’Howawful!’shesaid,butshecouldnothelpsmilingwhenshesawthathehadbeentryingtostickitonwithsoap.Howexactlylikeaboy!
Fortunatelysheknewatoncewhattodo’Itmustbesewnon,’shesaid,justalittlepatronisingly.
’What’ssewn?’heasked.
’You’redreadfullyignorant.’
’No,I’mnot.’
Butshewasexultinginhisignorance.’Ishallsewitonforyou,mylittleman,’shesaid,thoughhewasastallasherself;andshegotoutherhousewife,andsewedtheshadowontoPeter’sfoot.
