Peter Pan - The Happy Home

None

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please
visit LibriVox dot org. This reading by Eric Mackenzie. Peter
Pan by James Matthew Berry, Chapter ten, The Happy Home.

(00:25):
One important result of the brush on the lagoon was
that had made the Redskins their friends. Peter had saved
Tiger Lily from a dreadful fate, and now there was
nothing she and her braves would not do for him.
All night they sat above, keeping watch over the home
under the ground, and awaiting the big attack by the pirates,
which obviously could not be much longer delayed. Even by day,

(00:47):
they hung about, smoking the Pipe of Peace, and looking
almost as if they wanted titbits to eat. They called
Peter the Great White Father, prostrating themselves before him, and
he liked this tremendously so that it was not really
good for him, The Great White Father, he would say
to them, in a very lordly manner, as they groveled

(01:08):
at his feet, is glad to see the Picaninny warriors
protecting his wigwam from the pirates. Me, Tiger Lily, that
lovely creature would reply, Peter Pan, save me me, his
very nice friend me, nor let pirates hurt him. She
was far too pretty to cringe in this way. But

(01:29):
Peter thought it his due, and he would answer condescendingly,
it is good Peter Pan has spoken. Always when he
said Peter Pan has spoken, it meant that they must
now shut up, and they accepted it humbly in that spirit.
But they were by no means so respectful to the
other boys, whom they looked upon as just ordinary braves.

(01:53):
They said, how do to them? And things like that.
And what annoyed the boys was that Peter seemed to
think us all right. Secretly, Wendy sympathized with them a little,
but she was far too loyal a housewife to listen
to any complaints against father. Father knows best. She always said,
whatever her private opinion must be. Her private opinion was

(02:17):
that the Redskins should not call her a squaw. We
have now reached the evening that was to be known
among them as the Night of Nights, because of its adventures,
and their upshote the day as if quietly gathering its
forces had been almost uneventful. And now the Redskins and

(02:38):
their blankets were at their posts above, while below the
children were having their evening meal, all except Peter, who
had gone out to get the time. The way you
got the time on the island was to find the
crocodile and then stay near him till the clock struck.
The meal happened to be a make believe tea, and

(02:58):
they sat around the board, guzzling in their greed and
really but with their chattering recriminations. The noise, as Wendy said,
was positively deafening. To be sure, she did not mind noise,
but she simply would not have them grabbing things and
then excusing themselves by saying the toodles had pushed their elbow.
There was a fixed rule that they must never hit

(03:19):
back at meals, but should refer the matter of dispute
to Wendy by raising the right arm politely and saying
I complain of so and so. But what usually happened
was that they forgot to do this, or did it
too much silence, cried Wendy, when for the twentieth time
she had told them that they were not all to
speak at once. Is your mug empty, slightly, darling, not

(03:45):
quite empty? Mummy? Slightly said, after looking into an imaginary mug,
he hasn't even begun to drink his milk. Nibs interposed
this was telling, and slightly seized his chance. I complain
of Nibs, he cried promptly. John, however, had held up
his hand first. Well, John, man, I set in Peter's chair,

(04:08):
as he is not here, set in father's chair. John.
Wendy was scandalized. Certainly not he is not really our father.
John answered, he didn't even know how a father does
till I showed him. This was grumbling, we complain of, John,
cried the twins. Toodles held up his hand. He was

(04:32):
so much the humblest of them. Indeed, he was the
only humble one that Wendy was specially gentle with him.
I don't suppose, Doodles said diffidently that I could be father,
No Toodles. Once Tootles began, which was not very often,

(04:53):
he had a silly way of going on. As I
can't be father, he said, have I don't suppose Michael
you would let me be baby. No, I won't. Michael
rapped out, he was already in his basket. As I
can't be baby, Toodles said, getting heavier and heavier and heavier.

(05:19):
Do you think I could be a twin? No? Indeed,
replied the twins. It's awfully difficult to be a twin,
as I can't be anything important, said Toodles. Would any
of you like to see me do a trick? No?
They all replied. Then at last he stopped. I hadn't

(05:40):
really any hope, he said. The hateful telling broke out again.
Slightly is coughing on the table. The twins began with cheesecakes.
Curley is taking both butter and honey. Nebs is speaking
with his mouth full. I complain of the twins, I
complain of Curly, I complain of nibs. Oh dear, Oh dear,

(06:04):
cried Wendy. I'm sure I sometimes think that spinsters are
to be envied. She told them to clear away and
sat down to her work basket, a heavy load of
stockings and every knee with a hole in it. As usual,
Wendy remonstrated Michael, I'm too big for a cradle. I

(06:24):
must have somebody in a cradle, she said, almost heartily,
And you are the littlest. A cradle is such a
nice homely thing to have about a house well, she sewed.
They played around her, such a group of happy faces
and dancing limbs, lit up by that romantic fire. It
had become a very familiar scene, this in the home

(06:47):
under the ground. But we are looking on it for
the last time. There was a step above in Wendy,
you may be sure, was the first to recognize it. Children,
I hear your father's step. He likes you to meet
him at the door above. The redskins crouched before Peter,

(07:10):
watch well, braves, I have spoken, and then, as so
often before, the gay children dragged him from his tree,
as so often before, but never again. He had brought
nuts for the boys, as well as the correct time
for Wendy. Peter, you just spoil them, you know, Wendy simpered, Ah,

(07:33):
old lady, said Peter, hanging up his gun. It was me,
told him. Mothers are called old lady. Michael whispered to Curly.
I complain of Michael, said Curly. Instantly, the first twin
came to Peter. Father. We want to dance. Dance away,
my little man, said Peter, who was in high good humor.

(07:56):
But we want you to dance. Peter was really the
best dancer among them, but he pretended to be scandalized.
Me my old bones would rattle, and Mummy too, What
cried Wendy, the mother of such an armful dance? But
on a Saturday night? Slightly insinuated it was not really

(08:21):
Saturday night. At least it may have been, for they
had long lost count of the days, but always if
they wanted to do anything special, they said, this was
Saturday night, and then they did it. Of course, it
is Saturday night, Peter, Wendy said, relenting people of our figure, Wendy,

(08:41):
But it is only among our own progeny. True. True.
So they were told they could dance, but they must
put on their nighties first. Ow Old lady Peter set
aside to Wendy, warming himself by the fire, and looking
down at her as she sat turning a heel. There
is nothing more pleasant of an evening for you and me,

(09:03):
when the day's toil is over, than to rest by
the fire with the little ones near by. It is sweet, Peter,
isn't it, Wendy said, frightfully, gratified, Peter, I think curly
has your nose. Michael takes after you. She went to
him and put her hand on his shoulder. Dear Peter,

(09:26):
she said, with such a large family, of course, I
have now passed my best. But you don't want to
change me, do you, No, Wendy, certainly he did not
want to change, but he looked at her uncomfortably, blinking,
you know, like one not sure whether he was awake
or asleep. Peter, what is it? I was just thinking,

(09:51):
he said, a little scared. It is only make believe,
isn't it that I am their father? Oh? Yes, Wendy said, primly.
You see, he continued apologetically, It would make me seem
so old to be their real father. But they are ours, Peter,
yours and mine, But not really, Wendy, he asked, anxiously,

(10:17):
Not if you don't wish it, she replied, and she
distinctly heard his sigh of relief. Peter, she asked, trying
to speak firmly. What are your exact feelings to me?
Those of a devoted son? Wendy, I thought so, she said,

(10:39):
and went and sat by herself at the extreme end
of the room. You are so queer, he said, frankly, puzzled,
and Tiger Lily is just the same. There is something
she wants to be to me, But she says, it
is not my mother. No, indeed, it is not, Wendy
replied with frightful emphasis. Now we know why she was

(11:01):
prejudiced against the Redskins. Then what is it It isn't
for a lady to tell? Oh very well, Peter said,
a little nettled. Perhaps tinker Bell will tell me. Oh, yes,
tinker Bell will tell you. Wendy retorted scornfully. She is
an abandoned little creature. Here Tink, who was in her

(11:24):
bedroom eavesdropping, squeaked out something impudent. She says she glories
in being abandoned. Peter interpreted he had a sudden idea.
Perhaps Tink wants to be my mother. You silly ass,
cried tinker Bell in a passion. She had said it
so often that Wendy needed no translation. I almost agree

(11:48):
with her. Wendy snapped. Fancy Wendy snapping. But she had
been much tried, and she little knew what was to
happen before the night was out. If she had no one,
she would not have snapped. None of them knew. Perhaps
it was best not to know. Their ignorance gave them
one more glad hour, and as it was to be

(12:11):
their last, hour on the island. Let us rejoice that
there were sixty glad minutes in it. They sang and
danced in their night gowns. Such a deliciously creepy song
it was, in which they pretended to be frightened at
their own shadows, little wedding that so soon shadows would
close in upon them, from whom they would shrink in
real fear. So uproariously gay was the dance, and how

(12:35):
they buffeted each other on the bed and out of it.
It was a pillow fight rather than a dance. And
when it was finished, the pillows insisted on one bout more,
like partners who know that they may never meet again.
The stories they told before it was time for Wendy's
good night story. Even slightly tried to tell a story
that night, But the beginning was so fearfully dull that

(12:57):
it appalled not only the others but himself. And he said, happily, yes,
it is a dull beginning, I say, let us pretend
that it is the end. And then at last they
all got into bed for Wendy's story, the story they
loved best, the story Peter hated. Usually when she began

(13:17):
to tell this story he left the room or put
his hands over his ears. Impossibly, if he had done
either of those things this time, they might all still
be on the island. But to night he remained on
his stool, and we shall see what happened. End of
Chapter ten.