the little white bird-第17部分

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human）；　can　land　on　the　island；　but　you　may　write　what　you　want

（boy　or　girl；　dark　or　fair）　on　a　piece　of　paper；　and　then　twist

it　into　the　shape　of　a　boat　and　slip　it　into　the　water；　and　it

reaches　Peter　Pan's　island　after　dark。



We　are　on　the　way　home　now；　though；　of　course；　it　is　all　pretence

that　we　can　go　to　so　many　of　the　places　in　one　day。　　I　should

have　had　to　be　carrying　David　long　ago　and　resting　on　every　seat

like　old　Mr。　Salford。　　That　was　what　we　called　him；　because　he

always　talked　to　us　of　a　lovely　place　called　Salford　where　he　had

been　born。　　He　was　a　crab…apple　of　an　old　gentleman　who　wandered

all　day　in　the　Gardens　from　seat　to　seat　trying　to　fall　in　with

somebody　who　was　acquainted　with　the　town　of　Salford；　and　when　we

had　known　him　for　a　year　or　more　we　actually　did　meet　another

aged　solitary　who　had　once　spent　Saturday　to　Monday　in　Salford。　

He　was　meek　and　timid　and　carried　his　address　inside　his　hat；　and

whatever　part　of　London　he　was　in　search　of　he　always　went　to　the

General　Post…office　first　as　a　starting…point。　　Him　we　carried　in

triumph　to　our　other　friend；　with　the　story　of　that　Saturday　to

Monday；　and　never　shall　I　forget　the　gloating　joy　with　which　Mr。

Salford　leapt　at　him。　　They　have　been　cronies　ever　since；　and　I

notice　that　Mr。　Salford；　who　naturally　does　most　of　the　talking；

keeps　tight　grip　of　the　other　old　man's　coat。



The　two　last　places　before　you　come　to　our　gate　are　the　Dog's

Cemetery　and　the　chaffinch's　nest；　but　we　pretend　not　to　know

what　the　Dog's　Cemetery　is；　as　Porthos　is　always　with　us。　　The

nest　is　very　sad。　　It　is　quite　white；　and　the　way　we　found　it　was

wonderful。　　We　were　having　another　look　among　the　bushes　for

David's　lost　worsted　ball；　and　instead　of　the　ball　we　found　a

lovely　nest　made　of　the　worsted；　and　containing　four　eggs；　with

scratches　on　them　very　like　David's　handwriting；　so　we　think　they

must　have　been　the　mother's　love…letters　to　the　little　ones

inside。　　Every　day　we　were　in　the　Gardens　we　paid　a　call　at　the

nest；　taking　care　that　no　cruel　boy　should　see　us；　and　we　dropped

crumbs；　and　soon　the　bird　knew　us　as　friends；　and　sat　in　the　nest

looking　at　us　kindly　with　her　shoulders　hunched　up。　　But　one　day

when　we　went；　there　were　only　two　eggs　in　the　nest；　and　the　next

time　there　were　none。　　The　saddest　part　of　it　was　that　the　poor

little　chaffinch　fluttered　about　the　bushes；　looking　so

reproachfully　at　us　that　we　knew　she　thought　we　had　done　it；　and

though　David　tried　to　explain　to　her；　it　was　so　long　since　he　had

spoken　the　bird　language　that　I　fear　she　did　not　understand。　　He

and　I　left　the　Gardens　that　day　with　our　knuckles　in　our　eyes。





XIV



Peter　Pan



If　you　ask　your　mother　whether　she　knew　about　Peter　Pan　when　she

was　a　little　girl　she　will　say；　〃Why；　of　course；　I　did；　child；〃

and　if　you　ask　her　whether　he　rode　on　a　goat　in　those　days　she

will　say；　〃What　a　foolish　question　to　ask；　certainly　he　did。〃

Then　if　you　ask　your　grandmother　whether　she　knew　about　Peter　Pan

when　she　was　a　girl；　she　also　says；　〃Why；　of　course；　I　did；

child；〃　but　if　you　ask　her　whether　he　rode　on　a　goat　in　those

days；　she　says　she　never　heard　of　his　having　a　goat。　　Perhaps　she

has　forgotten；　just　as　she　sometimes　forgets　your　name　and　calls

you　Mildred；　which　is　your　mother's　name。　　Still；　she　could

hardly　forget　such　an　important　thing　as　the　goat。　　Therefore

there　was　no　goat　when　your　grandmother　was　a　little　girl。　　This

shows　that；　in　telling　the　story　of　Peter　Pan；　to　begin　with　the

goat　（as　most　people　do）　is　as　silly　as　to　put　on　your　jacket

before　your　vest。



Of　course；　it　also　shows　that　Peter　is　ever　so　old；　but　he　is

really　always　the　same　age；　so　that　does　not　matter　in　the　least。

His　age　is　one　week；　and　though　he　was　born　so　long　ago　he　has

never　had　a　birthday；　nor　is　there　the　slightest　chance　of　his

ever　having　one。　　The　reason　is　that　he　escaped　from　being　a

human　when　he　was　seven　days'　old；　he　escaped　by　the　window　and

flew　back　to　the　Kensington　Gardens。



If　you　think　he　was　the　only　baby　who　ever　wanted　to　escape；　it

shows　how　completely　you　have　forgotten　your　own　young　days。　

When　David　heard　this　story　first　he　was　quite　certain　that　he

had　never　tried　to　escape；　but　I　told　him　to　think　back　hard；

pressing　his　hands　to　his　temples；　and　when　he　had　done　this

hard；　and　even　harder；　he　distinctly　remembered　a　youthful　desire

to　return　to　the　tree…tops；　and　with　that　memory　came　others；　as

that　he　had　lain　in　bed　planning　to　escape　as　soon　as　his　mother

was　asleep；　and　how　she　had　once　caught　him　half…way　up　the

chimney。　　All　children　could　have　such　recollections　if　they

would　press　their　hands　hard　to　their　temples；　for；　having　been

birds　before　they　were　human；　they　are　naturally　a　little　wild

during　the　first　few　weeks；　and　very　itchy　at　the　shoulders；

where　their　wings　used　to　be。　　So　David　tells　me。



I　ought　to　mention　here　that　the　following　is　our　way　with　a

story：　First；　I　tell　it　to　him；　and　then　he　tells　it　to　me；　the

understanding　being　that　it　is　quite　a　different　story；　and　then

I　retell　it　with　his　additions；　and　so　we　go　on　until　no　one

could　say　whether　it　is　more　his　story　or　mine。　　In　this　story　of

Peter　Pan；　for　instance；　the　bald　narrative　and　most　of　the　moral

reflections　are　mine；　though　not　all；　for　this　boy　can　be　a　stern

moralist；　but　the　interesting　bits　about　the　ways　and　customs　of

babies　in　the　bird…stage　are　mostly　reminiscences　of　David's；

recalled　by　pressing　his　hands　to　his　temples　and　thinking　hard。



Well；　Peter　Pan　got　out　by　the　window；　which　had　no　bars。

Standing　on　the　ledge　he　could　see　trees　far　away；　which　were

doubtless　the　Kensington　Gardens；　and　the　moment　he　saw　them　he

entirely　forgot　that　he　was　now　a　little　boy　in　a　nightgown；　and

away　he　flew；　right　over　the　houses　to　the　Gardens。　　It　is

wonderful　that　he　could　fly　without　wings；　but　the　place　itched

tremendously；　and；　perhaps　we　could　all　fly　if　we　were　as　dead…

confident…sure　of　our　capacity　to　do　it　as　was　bold　Peter　Pan

that　evening。



He　alighted　gaily　on　the　open　sward；　between　the　Baby's　Palace

and　the　Serpentine；　and　the　first　thing　he　did　was　to　lie　on　his

back　and　kick。　　He　was　quite　unaware　already　that　he　had　ever

been　human；　and　thought　he　was　a　bird；　even　in　appearance；　just

the　same　as　in　his　early　days；　and　when　he　tried　to　catch　a　fly

he　did　not　understand　that　the　reason　he　missed　it　was　because　he

had　attempted　to　seize　it　with　his　hand；　which；　of　course；　a　bird

never　does。　　He　saw；　however；　that　it　must　be　past　Lock…out　Time；

for　there　were　a　good　many　fairies　about；　all　too　busy　to　notice

him；　they　were　getting　breakfast　ready；　milking　their　cows；

drawing　water；　and　so　on；　and　the　sight　of　the　water…pails　made

him　thirsty；　so　he　flew　over　to　the　Round　Pond　to　have　a　drink。

He　stooped；　and　dipped　his　beak　in　the　pond；　he　thought　it　was

his　beak；　but；　of　course；　it　was　only　his　nose；　and；　therefore；

very　little　water　came　up；　and　that　not　so　refreshing　as　usual；

so　next　he　tried　a　puddle；　and　he　fell　flop　into　it。　　When　a　real

bird　falls　in　flop；　he　spreads　out　his　feathers　and　pecks　them

dry；　but　Peter　could　not　remember　what　was　the　thing　to　do；　and

he　decided；　rather　sulkily；　to　go　to　sleep　on　the　weeping　beech

in　the　Baby　Walk。



At　first　he　found　some　difficulty　in　balancing　himself　on　a

branch；　but　presently　he　remembered　the　way；　and　fell　asleep。　　He

awoke　long　before　morning；　shivering；　and　saying　to　himself；　〃I

never　was　out　in　such　a　cold　night；〃　he　had　really　been　out　in

colder　nights　when　he　was　a　bird；　but；　of　course；　as　everybody

knows；　what　seems　a　warm　night　to　a　bird　is　a　cold　night　to　a　boy

in　a　nightgown。　　Peter　also　felt　strangely　uncomfortable；　as　if

his　head　was　stuffy；　he　heard　loud　noises　that　made　him　look

round　sharply；　though　they　were　really　himself　sneezing。　　There

was　something　he　wanted　very　much；　but；　though　he　knew　he　wanted

it；　he　could　not　think　what　it　was。　　What　he　wanted　so　much　was

his　mother　to　blow　his　nose；　but　that　never　struck　him；　so　he

decided　to　appeal　to　the　fairies　for　enlightenment。　　They　are

reputed　to　know　a　good　deal。



There　were　two　of　them　strolling　along　the　Baby　Walk；　with　their

arms　round　each　other's　waists；　and　he　hopped　down　to　address

them。　　The　fairies　have　their　tiffs　with　the　birds；　but　they

usually　give　a　civil　answer　to　a　civil　question；　and　he　was　quite

angry　when　these　two　ran　away　the　moment　they　saw　him。　　Another

was　lolling　on　a　garden…chair；　reading　a　postage…stamp　which　some

human　had　let　fall；　and　when　he　heard　Peter's　voice　he　popped　in

alarm　behind　a　tulip。



To　Peter's　bewilderment　he　discovered　that　every　fairy　he　met

fled　from　him。　　A　band　of　workmen；　who　were　sawing　down　a

toadstool；　rushed　away；　leaving　their　tools　behind　them。　　A

milkmaid　turned　her　pail　upside　down　and　hid　in　it。　　Soon　the

Gardens　were　in　an　uproar。　　Crowds　of　fairies　were　running　this

away　and　that；　asking　each　other　stoutly；　who　was　afraid；　lights

were　extinguished；　doors　barricaded；　and　from　the　grounds　of

Queen　Mab's　palace　came　the　rubadub　of　drums；　showing　that　the

royal　guard　had　been　called　out。　　A　regiment　of　Lancers　came

charging　down　the　Broad　Walk；　armed　with　holly…leaves；　with　which

they　jog　the　enemy　horribly　in　passing。　　Peter　heard　the　little

people　crying　everywhere　that　there　was　a　human　in　the　Gardens

after　Lock…out　Time；　but　he　never　thought　for　a　moment　that　he

was　the　human。　　He　was　feeling　stuffier　and　stuffier；　and　more

and　more　wistful　to　learn　what　he　wanted　done　to　his　nose；　but　he

pursued　them　with　the　vital　question　in　vain；　the　timid　creatures

ran　from　him；　and　even　the　Lancers；　when　he　approached　them　up

the　Hump；　turned　swiftly　into　a　side…walk；　on　the　pretence　that

they　saw　him　there。



Despairing　of　the　fairies；　he　resolved　to　consult　the　birds；　but

now　he　remember