Пітер Пен і Венді
The Happy Home
’Fatherknowsbest,’shealwayssaid,whateverherprivateopinionmustbe.Herprivateopinionwasthattheredskinsshouldnotcallherasquaw.
WehavenowreachedtheeveningthatwastobeknownamongthemastheNightofNights,becauseofitsadventuresandtheirupshot.Theday,asifquietlygatheringitsforces,hadbeenalmostuneventful,andnowtheredskinsintheirblanketswereattheirpostsabove,while,below,thechildrenwerehavingtheireveningmeal;allexceptPeter,whohadgoneouttogetthetime.Thewayyougotthetimeontheislandwastofindthecrocodile,andthenstaynearhimtilltheclockstruck.
Thismealhappenedtobeamake-believetea,andtheysatroundtheboard,guzzlingintheirgreed;andreally,whatwiththeirchatterandrecriminations,thenoise,asWendysaid,waspositivelydeafening.Tobesure,shedidnotmindnoise,butshesimplywouldnothavethemgrabbingthings,andthenexcusingthemselvesbysayingthatTootleshadpushedtheirelbow.Therewasafixedrulethattheymustneverhitbackatmeals,butshouldreferthematterofdisputetoWendybyraisingtherightarmpolitelyandsaying,’Icomplainofso-and-so’;butwhatusuallyhappenedwasthattheyforgottodothisordidittoomuch.
’Silence,’criedWendywhenforthetwentiethtimeshehadtoldthemthattheywerenotalltospeakatonce.’Isyourcalabashempty,Slightlydarling?’
’Notquiteempty,mummy,’Slightlysaid,afterlookingintoanimaginarymug.
’Hehasn’tevenbeguntodrinkhismilk,’Nibsinterposed.
Thiswastelling,andSlightlyseizedhischance.
