Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie, Jack Zipes

found he had not. Not one of them could fly an inch, though even Michael was in words of two syllables, and Peter did not know A from Z.
    Of course Peter had been trifling with them, for no one can fly unless the fairy dust has been blown on him. Fortunately, as we have mentioned, one of his hands was messy with it, and he blew some on each of them, with the most superb results.
    “Now just wriggle your shoulders this way,” he said, “and let go.”
    They were all on their beds, and gallant Michael let go first. He did not quite mean to let go, but he did it, and immediately he was borne across the room.
    “I flewed!” he screamed while still in mid-air. John let go and met Wendy near the bathroom.
    “Oh, lovely!”
    “Oh, ripping!”
    “Look at me!”
    “Look at me!”
    “Look at me!”
    They were not nearly so elegant as Peter, they could not help kicking a little, but their heads were bobbing against the ceiling, and there is almost nothing so delicious as that. Peter gave Wendy a hand at first, but had to desist, Tink was so indignant.
    Up and down they went, and round and round. Heavenly was Wendy’s word.
    “I say,” cried John, “why shouldn’t we all go out!”
    Of course it was to this that Peter had been luring them.
    Michael was ready: he wanted to see how long it took him to do a billion miles. But Wendy hesitated.
    “Mermaids!” said Peter again.
    “Oo!”
    “And there are pirates.”
    “Pirates,” cried John, seizing his Sunday hat, “let us go at once!”
    It was just at this moment that Mr. and Mrs. Darling hurried with Nana out of 27. They ran into the middle of the street to look up at the nursery window; and, yes, it was still shut, but the room was ablaze with light, and most heart-gripping sight of all, they could see in shadow on the curtain three little figures in night attire circling round and round, not on the floor but in the air.
    Not three figures, four!
    In a tremble they opened the street door. Mr. Darling would have rushed upstairs, but Mrs. Darling signed to him to go softly. She even tried to make her heart go softly.
    Will they reach the nursery in time? If so, how delightful for them, and we shall all breathe a sigh of relief, but there will be no story. On the other hand, if they are not in time, I solemnly promise that it will all come right in the end.
    They would have reached the nursery in time had it not been that the little stars were watching them. Once again the stars blew the window open, and that smallest star of all called out:
    The Birds Were Flown
    “Cave, 5 Peter!”
    Peter knew that there was not a moment to lose. “Come,” he cried imperiously, and soared out at once into the night, followed by John and Michael and Wendy.
    Mr. and Mrs. Darling and Nana rushed into the nursery too late. The birds were flown.

CHAPTER IV
THE FLIGHT
    “Second to the right, and straight on till morning.”
    That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to the Neverland; but even birds, carrying maps and consulting them at windy corners, could not have sighted it with these instructions. Peter, you see, just said anything that came into his head.
    At first his companions trusted him implicitly, and so great were the delights of flying that they wasted time circling round church spires or any other tall objects on the way that took their fancy.
    John and Michael raced, Michael getting a start.
    They recalled with contempt that not so long ago they had thought themselves fine fellows for being able to fly round a room.
    Not so long ago. But how long ago? They were flying over the sea before this thought began to disturb Wendy seriously. John thought it was their second sea and their third night.
    Sometimes it was dark and sometimes light, and now they were very cold and again too warm. Did they really feel hungry at times, or were they merely pretending, because Peter had such a jolly new way of feeding them? His way was to pursue birds who had food in their mouths suitable for