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.

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