THE NEVER LAND
_When the blind goes up all is so dark that you scarcely know it has
gone up. This is because if you were to see the island bang (as Peter
would say) the wonders of it might hurt your eyes. If you all came in
spectacles perhaps you could see it bang, but to make a rule of that
kind would be a pity. The first thing seen is merely some whitish
dots trudging along the sward, and you can guess from their tinkling
that they are probably fairies of the commoner sort going home afoot
from some party and having a cheery tiff by the way. Then Peter’s
star wakes up, and in the blink of it, which is much stronger than in
our stars, you can make out masses of trees, and you think you see
wild beasts stealing past to drink, though what you see is not the
beasts themselves but only the shadows of them. They are really out
pictorially to greet Peter in the way they think he would like them to
greet him; and for the same reason the mermaids basking in the lagoon
beyond the trees are carefully combing their hair; and for the same
reason the pirates are landing invisibly from the longboat, invisibly
to you but not to the redskins, whom none can see or hear because
they are on the war-path. The whole island, in short, which has been
having a slack time in Peter’s absence, is now in a ferment because
the tidings have leaked out that he is on his way back; and everybody
and everything know that they will catch it from him if they don’t
give satisfaction. While you have been told this the sun (another of
his servants) has been bestirring himself. Those of you who may have
thought it wiser after all to begin this Act in spectacles may now take
them off._
_What you see is the Never Land. You have often half seen it before,
or even three-quarters, after the night-lights were lit, and you might
then have beached your coracle on it if you had not always at the great
moment fallen asleep. I dare say you have chucked things on to it, the
things you can’t find in the morning. In the daytime you think the
Never Land is only make-believe, and so it is to the likes of you, but
this is the Never Land come true. It is an open-air scene, a forest,
with a beautiful lagoon beyond but not really far away, for the Never
Land is very compact, not large and sprawly with tedious distances
between one adventure and another, but nicely crammed. It is summer
time on the trees and on the lagoon but winter on the river, which
is not remarkable on Peter’s island where all the four seasons may
pass while you are filling a jug at the well. Peter’s home is at this
very spot, but you could not point out the way into it even if you
were told which is the entrance, not even if you were told that there
are seven of them. You know now because you have just seen one of the
lost boys emerge. The holes in these seven great hollow trees are the
‘doors’ down to Peter’s home, and he made seven because, despite his
cleverness, he thought seven boys must need seven doors._
_The boy who has emerged from his tree is Slightly, who has perhaps
been driven from the abode below by companions less musical than
himself. Quite possibly a genius, Slightly has with him his home-made
whistle to which he capers entrancingly, with no audience save a Never
ostrich which is also musically inclined. Unable to imitate Slightly’s
graces the bird falls so low as to burlesque them and is driven from
the entertainment. Other lost boys climb up the trunks or drop from
branches, and now we see the six of them, all in the skins of animals
they think they have shot, and so round and furry in them that if
they fall they roll. Tootles is not the least brave though the most
unfortunate of this gallant band. He has been in fewer adventures
than any of them because the big things constantly happen while he has
stepped round the corner; he will go off, for instance, in some quiet
hour to gather firewood, and then when he returns the others will be
sweeping up the blood. Instead of souring his nature this has sweetened
it and he is the humblest of the band. Nibs is more gay and debonair,
Slightly more conceited. Slightly thinks he remembers the days before
he was lost, with their manners and customs. Curly is a pickle, and
so often has he had to deliver up his person when Peter said sternly,
‘Stand forth the one who did this thing,’ that now he stands forth
whether he has done it or not. The other two are First Twin and Second
Twin, who cannot be described because we should probably be describing
the wrong one. Hunkering on the ground or peeping out of their holes,
the six are not unlike village gossips gathered round the pump._
TOOTLES. Has Peter come back yet, Slightly?
SLIGHTLY (_with a solemnity that he thinks suits the occasion_). No,
Tootles, no.
(_They are like dogs waiting for the master to tell them that the day
has begun._)
CURLY (_as if_ PETER _might be listening_). I do wish he would come
back.
TOOTLES. I am always afraid of the pirates when Peter is not here to
protect us.
SLIGHTLY. I am not afraid of pirates. Nothing frightens me. But I do
wish Peter would come back and tell us whether he has heard anything
more about Cinderella.
SECOND TWIN (_with diffidence_). Slightly, I dreamt last night that the
prince found Cinderella.
FIRST TWIN (_who is intellectually the superior of the two_). Twin, I
think you should not have dreamt that, for I didn’t, and Peter may say
we oughtn’t to dream differently, being twins, you know.
TOOTLES. I am awfully anxious about Cinderella. You see, not knowing
anything about my own mother I am fond of thinking that she was rather
like Cinderella.
(_This is received with derision._)
NIBS. All I remember about my mother is that she often said to father,
‘Oh how I wish I had a cheque book of my own.’ I don’t know what a
cheque book is, but I should just love to give my mother one.
SLIGHTLY (_as usual_). My mother was fonder of me than your mothers
were of you. (_Uproar._) Oh yes, she was. Peter had to make up names
for you, but my mother had wrote my name on the pinafore I was lost in.
‘Slightly Soiled’; that’s my name.
(_They fall upon him pugnaciously; not that they are really worrying
about their mothers, who are now as important to them as a piece of
string, but because any excuse is good enough for a shindy. Not for
long is he belaboured, for a sound is heard that sends them scurrying
down their holes: in a second of time the scene is bereft of human
life. What they have heard from near-by is a verse of the dreadful
song with which on the Never Land the pirates stealthily trumpet
their approach--_
Yo ho, yo ho, the pirate life,
The flag of skull and bones,
A merry hour, a hempen rope,
And hey for Davy Jones!
_The pirates appear upon the frozen river dragging a raft, on which
reclines among cushions that dark and fearful man_, CAPTAIN JAS
HOOK. _A more villainous-looking brotherhood of men never hung in a
row on Execution dock. Here, his great arms bare, pieces of eight
in his ears as ornaments, is the handsome_ CECCO, _who cut his name
on the back of the governor of the prison at Gao. Heavier in the
pull is the gigantic black who has had many names since the first
one terrified dusky children on the banks of the Guidjo-mo._ BILL
JUKES _comes next, every inch of him tattooed, the same_ JUKES _who
got six dozen on the_ Walrus _from_ FLINT. _Following these are_
COOKSON, _said to be_ BLACK MURPHY’S _brother (but this was never
proved); and_ GENTLEMAN STARKEY, _once an usher in a school; and_
SKYLIGHTS _(Morgan’s Skylights); and_ NOODLER, _whose hands are
fixed on backwards; and the spectacled boatswain_, SMEE, _the only
Nonconformist in_ HOOK’S _crew; and other ruffians long known and
feared on the Spanish main_.
_Cruelest jewel in that dark setting is_ HOOK _himself, cadaverous
and blackavised, his hair dressed in long curls which look like black
candles about to melt, his eyes blue as the forget-me-not and of a
profound insensibility, save when he claws, at which time a red spot
appears in them. He has an iron hook instead of a right hand, and
it is with this he claws. He is never more sinister than when he is
most polite, and the elegance of his diction, the distinction of
his demeanour, show him one of a different class from his crew, a
solitary among uncultured companions. This courtliness impresses even
his victims on the high seas, who note that he always says ‘Sorry’
when prodding them along the plank. A man of indomitable courage, the
only thing at which he flinches is the sight of his own blood, which
is thick and of an unusual colour. At his public school they said of
him that he ‘bled yellow.’ In dress he apes the dandiacal associated
with Charles II., having heard it said in an earlier period of his
career that he bore a strange resemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts.
A holder of his own contrivance is in his mouth enabling him to smoke
two cigars at once. Those, however, who have seen him in the flesh,
which is an inadequate term for his earthly tenement, agree that the
grimmest part of him is his iron claw._
_They continue their distasteful singing as they disembark--_
Avast, belay, yo ho, heave to,
A-pirating we go,
And if we’re parted by a shot
We’re sure to meet below!
NIBS, _the only one of the boys who has not sought safety in his
tree, is seen for a moment near the lagoon, and_ STARKEY’S _pistol is
at once upraised. The captain twists his hook in him._)
STARKEY (_abject_). Captain, let go!
HOOK. Put back that pistol, first.
STARKEY. ’Twas one of those boys you hate; I could have shot him dead.
HOOK. Ay, and the sound would have brought Tiger Lily’s redskins on
us. Do you want to lose your scalp?
SMEE (_wriggling his cutlass pleasantly_). That is true. Shall I after
him, Captain, and tickle him with Johnny Corkscrew? Johnny is a silent
fellow.
HOOK. Not now. He is only one, and I want to mischief all the seven.
Scatter and look for them. (_The boatswain whistles his instructions,
and the men disperse on their frightful errand. With none to hear save_
SMEE, HOOK _becomes confidential_.) Most of all I want their captain,
Peter Pan. ’Twas he cut off my arm. I have waited long to shake his
hand with this. (_Luxuriating_) Oh, I’ll tear him!
SMEE (_always ready for a chat_). Yet I have oft heard you say your
hook was worth a score of hands, for combing the hair and other homely
uses.
HOOK. If I was a mother I would pray to have my children born with this
instead of that (_his left arm creeps nervously behind him. He has
a galling remembrance_). Smee, Pan flung my arm to a crocodile that
happened to be passing by.
SMEE. I have often noticed your strange dread of crocodiles.
HOOK (_pettishly_). Not of crocodiles but of that one crocodile. (_He
lays bare a lacerated heart._) The brute liked my arm so much, Smee,
that he has followed me ever since, from sea to sea, and from land to
land, licking his lips for the rest of me.
SMEE (_looking for the bright side_). In a way it is a sort of
compliment.
HOOK (_with dignity_). I want no such compliments; I want Peter Pan,
who first gave the brute his taste for me. Smee, that crocodile would
have had me before now, but by a lucky chance he swallowed a clock, and
it goes tick, tick, tick, tick inside him; and so before he can reach
me I hear the tick and bolt. (_He emits a hollow rumble._) Once I heard
it strike six within him.
SMEE (_sombrely_). Some day the clock will run down, and then he’ll get
you.
HOOK (_a broken man_). Ay, that is the fear that haunts me. (_He
rises._) Smee, this seat is hot; odds, bobs, hammer and tongs, I am
burning.
(_He has been sitting, he thinks, on one of the island mushrooms,
which are of enormous size. But this is a hand-painted one placed
here in times of danger to conceal a chimney. They remove it, and
tell-tale smoke issues; also, alas, the sound of children’s voices._)
SMEE. A chimney!
HOOK (_avidly_). Listen! Smee, ’tis plain they live here, beneath the
ground. (_He replaces the mushroom. His brain works tortuously._)
SMEE. (_hopefully_). Unrip your plan, Captain.
HOOK. To return to the boat and cook a large rich cake of jolly
thickness with sugar on it, green sugar. There can be but one room
below, for there is but one chimney. The silly moles had not the sense
to see that they did not need a door apiece. We must leave the cake on
the shore of the mermaids’ lagoon. These boys are always swimming about
there, trying to catch the mermaids. They will find the cake and gobble
it up, because, having no mother, they don’t know how dangerous ’tis to
eat rich damp cake. They will die!
SMEE (_fascinated_). It is the wickedest, prettiest policy ever I heard
of.
HOOK (_meaning well_). Shake hands on ’t.
SMEE. No, Captain, no.
(_He has to link with the hook, but he does not join in the song._)
HOOK.
Yo ho, yo ho, when I say ‘paw,’
By fear they’re overtook,
Naught’s left upon your bones when you
Have shaken hands with Hook!
(_Frightened by a tug at his hand_, SMEE _is joining in the chorus
when another sound stills them both. It is a tick, tick as of
a clock, whose significance_ HOOK _is, naturally, the first to
recognise. ‘The crocodile!’ he cries, and totters from the scene._
SMEE _follows. A huge crocodile, of one thought compact, passes
across, ticking, and oozes after them. The wood is now so silent that
you may be sure it is full of redskins._ TIGER LILY _comes first. She
is the belle of the Piccaninny tribe, whose braves would all have her
to wife, but she wards them off with a hatchet. She puts her ear to
the ground and listens, then beckons, and_ GREAT BIG LITTLE PANTHER
_and the tribe are around her, carpeting the ground. Far away some
one treads on a dry leaf._)
TIGER LILY. Pirates! (_They do not draw their knives; the knives slip
into their hands._) Have um scalps? What you say?
PANTHER. Scalp um, oho, velly quick.
THE BRAVES (_in corroboration_). Ugh, ugh, wah.
(_A fire is lit and they dance round and over it till they seem part
of the leaping flames._ TIGER LILY _invokes Manitou; the pipe of
peace is broken; and they crawl off like a long snake that has not
fed for many moons_. TOOTLES _peers after the tail and summons the
other boys, who issue from their holes_.)
TOOTLES. They are gone.
SLIGHTLY (_almost losing confidence in himself_). I do wish Peter was
here.
FIRST TWIN. H’sh! What is that? (_He is gazing at the lagoon and
shrinks back._) It is wolves, and they are chasing Nibs!
(_The baying wolves are upon them quicker than any boy can scuttle
down his tree._)
NIBS (_falling among his comrades_). Save me, save me!
TOOTLES. What should we do?
SECOND TWIN. What would Peter do?
SLIGHTLY. Peter would look at them through his legs; let us do what
Peter would do.
(_The boys advance backwards, looking between their legs at the
snarling red-eyed enemy, who trot away foiled._)
FIRST TWIN (_swaggering_). We have saved you, Nibs. Did you see the
pirates?
NIBS (_sitting up, and agreeably aware that the centre of interest is
now to pass to him_). No, but I saw a wonderfuller thing, Twin. (_All
mouths open for the information to be dropped into them._) High over
the lagoon I saw the loveliest great white bird. It is flying this way.
(_They search the firmament._)
TOOTLES. What kind of a bird, do you think?
NIBS (_awed_). I don’t know; but it looked so weary, and as it flies it
moans ‘Poor Wendy.’
SLIGHTLY (_instantly_). I remember now there are birds called Wendies.
FIRST TWIN (_who has flown to a high branch_). See, it comes, the
Wendy! (_They all see it now._) How white it is! (_A dot of light is
pursuing the bird malignantly._)
TOOTLES. That is Tinker Bell. Tink is trying to hurt the Wendy. (_He
makes a cup of his hands and calls_) Hullo, Tink! (_A response comes
down in the fairy language._) She says Peter wants us to shoot the
Wendy.
NIBS. Let us do what Peter wishes.
SLIGHTLY. Ay, shoot it; quick, bows and arrows.
TOOTLES (_first with his bow_). Out of the way, Tink; I’ll shoot it.
(_His bolt goes home, and_ WENDY, _who has been fluttering among the
tree-tops in her white nightgown, falls straight to earth. No one could
be more proud than_ TOOTLES.) I have shot the Wendy; Peter will be so
pleased. (_From some tree on which_ TINK _is roosting comes the tinkle
we can now translate, ‘You silly ass.’_ TOOTLES _falters_.) Why do you
say that? (_The others feel that he may have blundered, and draw away
from_ TOOTLES.)
SLIGHTLY (_examining the fallen one more minutely_). This is no bird; I
think it must be a lady.
NIBS (_who would have preferred it to be a bird_). And Tootles has
killed her.
CURLY. Now I see, Peter was bringing her to us. (_They wonder for what
object._)
SECOND TWIN. To take care of us? (_Undoubtedly for some diverting
purpose._)
OMNES (_though every one of them had wanted to have a shot at her_).
Oh, Tootles!
TOOTLES (_gulping_). I did it. When ladies used to come to me in dreams
I said ‘Pretty mother,’ but when she really came I shot her! (_He
perceives the necessity of a solitary life for him._) Friends, good-bye.
SEVERAL (_not very enthusiastic_). Don’t go.
TOOTLES. I must; I am so afraid of Peter.
(_He has gone but a step toward oblivion when he is stopped by a
crowing as of some victorious cock._)
OMNES. Peter!
(_They make a paling of themselves in front of_ WENDY _as_ PETER
_skims round the tree-tops and reaches earth._)
PETER. Greeting, boys! (_Their silence chafes him._) I am back; why do
you not cheer? Great news, boys, I have brought at last a mother for us
all.
SLIGHTLY (_vaguely_). Ay, ay.
PETER. She flew this way; have you not seen her?
SECOND TWIN (_as_ PETER _evidently thinks her important_). Oh mournful
day!
TOOTLES (_making a break in the paling_). Peter, I will show her to you.
THE OTHERS (_closing the gap_). No, no.
TOOTLES (_majestically_). Stand back all, and let Peter see.
(_The paling dissolves, and_ PETER _sees_ WENDY _prone on the
ground_.)
PETER. Wendy, with an arrow in her heart! (_He plucks it out._) Wendy
is dead. (_He is not so much pained as puzzled._)
CURLY. I thought it was only flowers that die.
PETER. Perhaps she is frightened at being dead? (_None of them can say
as to that._) Whose arrow? (_Not one of them looks at_ TOOTLES.)
TOOTLES. Mine, Peter.
PETER (_raising it as a dagger_). Oh dastard hand!
TOOTLES (_kneeling and baring his breast_). Strike, Peter; strike true.
PETER (_undergoing a singular experience_). I cannot strike; there is
something stays my hand.
(_In fact_ WENDY’S _arm has risen_.)
NIBS. ’Tis she, the Wendy lady. See, her arm. (_To help a friend_) I
think she said ‘Poor Tootles.’
PETER (_investigating_). She lives!
SLIGHTLY (_authoritatively_). The Wendy lady lives.
(_The delightful feeling that they have been cleverer than they
thought comes over them and they applaud themselves._)
PETER (_holding up a button that is attached to her chain_). See, the
arrow struck against this. It is a kiss I gave her; it has saved her
life.
SLIGHTLY. I remember kisses; let me see it. (_He takes it in his
hand._) Ay, that is a kiss.
PETER. Wendy, get better quickly and I’ll take you to see the mermaids.
She is awfully anxious to see a mermaid.
(TINKER BELL, _who may have been off visiting her relations, returns
to the wood and, under the impression that_ WENDY _has been got rid
of, is whistling as gaily as a canary. She is not wholly heartless,
but is so small that she has only room for one feeling at a time._)
CURLY. Listen to Tink rejoicing because she thinks the Wendy is dead!
(_Regardless of spoiling another’s pleasure_) Tink, the Wendy lives.
(TINK _gives expression to fury._)
SECOND TWIN (_tell-tale_). It was she who said that you wanted us to
shoot the Wendy.
PETER. She said that? Then listen, Tink, I am your friend no more.
(_There is a note of acerbity in_ TINK’S _reply; it may mean ‘Who wants
you?’_) Begone from me for ever. (_Now it is a very wet tinkle._)
CURLY. She is crying.
TOOTLES. She says she is your fairy.
PETER (_who knows they are not worth worrying about_). Oh well, not
for ever, but for a whole week.
(TINK _goes off sulking, no doubt with the intention of giving all
her friends an entirely false impression of_ WENDY’S _appearance_.)
Now what shall we do with Wendy?
CURLY. Let us carry her down into the house.
SLIGHTLY. Ay, that is what one does with ladies.
PETER. No, you must not touch her; it wouldn’t be sufficiently
respectful.
SLIGHTLY. That is what I was thinking.
TOOTLES. But if she lies there she will die.
SLIGHTLY. Ay, she will die. It is a pity, but there is no way out.
PETER. Yes, there is. Let us build a house around her! (_Cheers again,
meaning that no difficulty baffles_ PETER.) Leave all to me. Bring the
best of what we have. Gut our house. Be sharp. (_They race down their
trees._)
(_While_ PETER _is engrossed in measuring_ WENDY _so that the house
may fit her_, JOHN _and_ MICHAEL, _who have probably landed on the
island with a bump, wander forward, so draggled and tired that if you
were to ask_ MICHAEL _whether he is awake or asleep he would probably
answer ‘I haven’t tried yet.’_)
MICHAEL (_bewildered_). John, John, wake up. Where is Nana, John?
JOHN (_with the help of one eye but not always the same eye_). It is
true, we did fly! (_Thankfully_) And here is Peter. Peter, is this the
place?
(PETER, _alas, has already forgotten them, as soon maybe he will
forget_ WENDY. _The first thing she should do now that she is here is
to sew a handkerchief for him, and knot it as a jog to his memory._)
PETER (_curtly_). Yes.
MICHAEL. Where is Wendy? (PETER _points_.)
JOHN (_who still wears his hat_). She is asleep.
MICHAEL. John, let us wake her and get her to make supper for us.
(_Some of the boys emerge, and he pinches one._)
John, look at them!
PETER (_still house-building_). Curly, see that these boys help in the
building of the house.
JOHN. Build a house?
CURLY. For the Wendy.
JOHN (_feeling that there must be some mistake here_). For Wendy? Why,
she is only a girl.
CURLY. That is why we are her servants.
JOHN (_dazed_). Are you Wendy’s servants?
PETER. Yes, and you also. Away with them. (_In another moment they are
woodsmen hacking at trees, with_ CURLY _as overseer_.) Slightly, fetch
a doctor. (SLIGHTLY _reels and goes. He returns professionally in_
JOHN’S _hat_.) Please, sir, are you a doctor?
SLIGHTLY (_trembling in his desire to give satisfaction_). Yes, my
little man.
PETER. Please, sir, a lady lies very ill.
SLIGHTLY (_taking care not to fall over her_). Tut, tut, where does she
lie?
PETER. In yonder glade. (_It is a variation of a game they play._)
SLIGHTLY. I will put a glass thing in her mouth. (_He inserts an
imaginary thermometer in_ WENDY’S _mouth and gives it a moment to
record its verdict. He shakes it and then consults it._)
PETER (_anxiously_). How is she?
SLIGHTLY. Tut, tut, this has cured her.
PETER (_leaping joyously_). I am glad.
SLIGHTLY. I will call again in the evening. Give her beef tea out of a
cup with a spout to it, tut, tut.
(_The boys are running up with odd articles of furniture._)
PETER (_with an already fading recollection of the Darling nursery_).
These are not good enough for Wendy. How I wish I knew the kind of
house she would prefer!
FIRST TWIN. Peter, she is moving in her sleep.
TOOTLES (_opening_ WENDY’S _mouth and gazing down into the depths_).
Lovely!
PETER. Oh, Wendy, if you could sing the kind of house you would like to
have.
(_It is as if she had heard him._)
WENDY (_without opening her eyes_).
I wish I had a woodland house,
The littlest ever seen,
With funny little red walls
And roof of mossy green.
(_In the time she sings this and two other verses, such is the
urgency of_ PETER’S _silent orders that they have knocked down
trees, laid a foundation and put up the walls and roof, so that she
is now hidden from view. ‘Windows,’ cries_ PETER, _and_ CURLY _rushes
them in, ‘Roses,’ and_ TOOTLES _arrives breathless with a festoon for
the door. Thus springs into existence the most delicious little house
for beginners._)
FIRST TWIN. I think it is finished.
PETER. There is no knocker on the door. (TOOTLES _hangs up the sole of
his shoe_.) There is no chimney; we must have a chimney. (_They await
his deliberations anxiously._)
JOHN (_unwisely critical_). It certainly does need a chimney.
(_He is again wearing his hat, which_ PETER _seizes, knocks the top
off it and places on the roof. In the friendliest way smoke begins to
come out of the hat._)
PETER (_with his hand on the knocker_). All look your best; the first
impression is awfully important. (_He knocks, and after a dreadful
moment of suspense, in which they cannot help wondering if any one is
inside, the door opens and who should come out but_ WENDY! _She has
evidently been tidying a little. She is quite surprised to find that
she has nine children._)
WENDY (_genteelly_). Where am I?
SLIGHTLY. Wendy lady, for you we built this house.
NIBS and TOOTLES. Oh, say you are pleased.
WENDY (_stroking the pretty thing_). Lovely, darling house!
FIRST TWIN. And we are your children.
WENDY (_affecting surprise_). Oh?
OMNES (_kneeling, with outstretched arms_). Wendy lady, be our mother!
(_Now that they know it is pretend they acclaim her greedily._)
WENDY (_not to make herself too cheap_). Ought I? Of course it is
frightfully fascinating; but you see I am only a little girl; I have no
real experience.
OMNES. That doesn’t matter. What we need is just a nice motherly person.
WENDY. Oh dear, I feel that is just exactly what I am.
OMNES. It is, it is, we saw it at once.
WENDY. Very well then, I will do my best. (_In their glee they go
dancing obstreperously round the little house, and she sees she must
be firm with them as well as kind._) Come inside at once, you naughty
children, I am sure your feet are damp. And before I put you to bed I
have just time to finish the story of Cinderella.
(_They all troop into the enchanting house, whose not least
remarkable feature is that it holds them. A vision of_ LIZA _passes,
not perhaps because she has any right to be there; but she has so few
pleasures and is so young that we just let her have a peep at the
little house. By and by_ PETER _comes out and marches up and down
with drawn sword, for the pirates can be heard carousing far away
on the lagoon, and the wolves are on the prowl. The little house,
its walls so red and its roof so mossy, looks very cosy and safe,
with a bright light showing through the blind, the chimney smoking
beautifully, and_ PETER _on guard. On our last sight of him it is so
dark that we just guess he is the little figure who has fallen asleep
by the door. Dots of light come and go. They are inquisitive fairies
having a look at the house. Any other child in their way they would
mischief, but they just tweak_ PETER’S _nose and pass on. Fairies,
you see, can touch him._)