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places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If `
`
you could keep awake (but of course you can't) you would see your `
`
own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to `
`
watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see `
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her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of `
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your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing `
`
up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to `
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her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly `
`
stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the `
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naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have `
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been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and `
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on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier `
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thoughts, ready for you to put on. `
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`
`
I don't know whether you have ever seen a map of a person's `
`
mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and `
`
your own map can become intensely interesting, but catch them `
`
trying to draw a map of a child's mind, which is not only `
`
confused, but keeps going round all the time. There are zigzag `
`
lines on it, just like your temperature on a card, and these are `
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probably roads in the island, for the Neverland is always more or `
`
less an island, with astonishing splashes of colour here and `
`
there, and coral reefs and rakish-looking craft in the offing, `
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and savages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, `
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and caves through which a river runs, and princes with six elder `
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brothers, and a hut fast going to decay, and one very small old `
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lady with a hooked nose. It would be an easy map if that were `
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all, but there is also first day at school, religion, fathers, `
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the round pond, needle-work, murders, hangings, verbs that take `
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the dative, chocolate pudding day, getting into braces, say `
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ninety-nine, three-pence for pulling out your tooth yourself, and `
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so on, and either these are part of the island or they are `
`
another map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, `
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especially as nothing will stand still. `
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`
`
Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's, for `
`
instance, had a lagoon with flamingoes flying over it at which `
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John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a `
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flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat `
`
turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a `
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house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, `
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Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by `
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its parents, but on the whole the Neverlands have a family `
`
resemblance, and if they stood still in a row you could say of them `
`
that they have each other's nose, and so forth. On these magic `
`
shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles `
`
[simple boat]. We too have been there; we can still hear the `
`
sound of the surf, though we shall land no more. `
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`
`
Of all delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and `
`
most compact, not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious `
`
distances between one adventure and another, but nicely crammed. `
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When you play at it by day with the chairs and table-cloth, it is `
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not in the least alarming, but in the two minutes before you go to `
`
sleep it becomes very real. That is why there are night-lights. `
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`
`
Occasionally in her travels through her children's minds Mrs. `
`
Darling found things she could not understand, and of these quite `
`
the most perplexing was the word Peter. She knew of no Peter, `
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and yet he was here and there in John and Michael's minds, while `
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Wendy's began to be scrawled all over with him. The name stood `
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out in bolder letters than any of the other words, and as Mrs. `
`
Darling gazed she felt that it had an oddly cocky appearance. `
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`
`
"Yes, he is rather cocky," Wendy admitted with regret. Her `
`
mother had been questioning her. `
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`
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"But who is he, my pet?" `
`
`
`
"He is Peter Pan, you know, mother." `
`
`
`
At first Mrs. Darling did not know, but after thinking back `
`
into her childhood she just remembered a Peter Pan who was said `
`
to live with the fairies. There were odd stories about him, as `
`
that when children died he went part of the way with them, so `
`
that they should not be frightened. She had believed in him at `
`
the time, but now that she was married and full of sense she `
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quite doubted whether there was any such person. `
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`
`
"Besides," she said to Wendy, "he would be grown up by this `
`
time." `
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`
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"Oh no, he isn't grown up," Wendy assured her confidently, "and `
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he is just my size." She meant that he was her size in both mind `
`
and body; she didn't know how she knew, she just knew it. `
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`
`
Mrs. Darling consulted Mr. Darling, but he smiled pooh-pooh. `
`
"Mark my words," he said, "it is some nonsense Nana has been `
`
putting into their heads; just the sort of idea a dog would have. `
`
Leave it alone, and it will blow over." `
`
`
`
But it would not blow over and soon the troublesome boy gave `
`
Mrs. Darling quite a shock. `
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`
`
Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled `
`
by them. For instance, they may remember to mention, a week `
`
after the event happened, that when they were in the wood they `
`
had met their dead father and had a game with him. It was in `
`
this casual way that Wendy one morning made a disquieting `
`
revelation. Some leaves of a tree had been found on the nursery `
`
floor, which certainly were not there when the children went to `
`
bed, and Mrs. Darling was puzzling over them when Wendy said with `
`
a tolerant smile: `
`
`
`
"I do believe it is that Peter again!" `
`
`
`
"Whatever do you mean, Wendy?" `
`
`
`
"It is so naughty of him not to wipe his feet," Wendy said, `
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sighing. She was a tidy child. `
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`
`
She explained in quite a matter-of-fact way that she thought `
`
Peter sometimes came to the nursery in the night and sat on the `
`
foot of her bed and played on his pipes to her. Unfortunately `
`
she never woke, so she didn't know how she knew, she just knew. `
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`
`
"What nonsense you talk, precious. No one can get into the `
`
house without knocking." `
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`
`
"I think he comes in by the window," she said. `
`
`
`
"My love, it is three floors up." `
`
`
`
"Were not the leaves at the foot of the window, mother?" `
`
`
`
It was quite true; the leaves had been found very near the `
`
window. `
`
`
`
Mrs. Darling did not know what to think, for it all seemed so `
`
natural to Wendy that you could not dismiss it by saying she had `
`
been dreaming. `
`
`
`
"My child," the mother cried, "why did you not tell me of this `
`
before?" `
`
`
`
"I forgot," said Wendy lightly. She was in a hurry to get her `
`
breakfast. `
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`
`
Oh, surely she must have been dreaming. `
`
`
`
But, on the other hand, there were the leaves. Mrs. Darling `
`
examined them very carefully; they were skeleton leaves, but she `
`
was sure they did not come from any tree that grew in England. `
`
She crawled about the floor, peering at it with a candle for `
`
marks of a strange foot. She rattled the poker up the chimney `
`
and tapped the walls. She let down a tape from the window to the `
`
pavement, and it was a sheer drop of thirty feet, without so much `
`
as a spout to climb up by. `
`
`
`
Certainly Wendy had been dreaming. `
`
`
`
But Wendy had not been dreaming, as the very next night showed, `
`
the night on which the extraordinary adventures of these children `
`
may be said to have begun. `
`
`
`
On the night we speak of all the children were once more in `
`
bed. It happened to be Nana's evening off, and Mrs. Darling had `
`
bathed them and sung to them till one by one they had let go her `
`
hand and slid away into the land of sleep. `
`
`
`
All were looking so safe and cosy that she smiled at her fears `
`
now and sat down tranquilly by the fire to sew. `
`
`
`
It was something for Michael, who on his birthday was getting `
`
into shirts. The fire was warm, however, and the nursery dimly `
`
lit by three night-lights, and presently the sewing lay on Mrs. `
`
Darling's lap. Then her head nodded, oh, so gracefully. She was `
`
asleep. Look at the four of them, Wendy and Michael over there, `
`
John here, and Mrs. Darling by the fire. There should have been `
`
a fourth night-light. `
`
`
`
While she slept she had a dream. She dreamt that the Neverland `
`
had come too near and that a strange boy had broken through from `
`
it. He did not alarm her, for she thought she had seen him `
`
before in the faces of many women who have no children. Perhaps `
`
he is to be found in the faces of some mothers also. But in her `
`
dream he had rent the film that obscures the Neverland, and she `
`
saw Wendy and John and Michael peeping through the gap. `
`
`
`
The dream by itself would have been a trifle, but while she was `
`
dreaming the window of the nursery blew open, and a boy did drop `
`
on the floor. He was accompanied by a strange light, no bigger `
`
than your fist, which darted about the room like a living thing `
`
and I think it must have been this light that wakened Mrs. `
`
Darling. `
`
`
`
She started up with a cry, and saw the boy, and somehow she `
`
knew at once that he was Peter Pan. If you or I or Wendy had `
`
been there we should have seen that he was very like Mrs. `
`
Darling's kiss. He was a lovely boy, clad in skeleton leaves and `
`
the juices that ooze out of trees but the most entrancing thing `
`
about him was that he had all his first teeth. When he saw she `
`
was a grown-up, he gnashed the little pearls at her. `
`
`
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`
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`
`
Chapter 2 `
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`
`
THE SHADOW `
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