And indeed Tink

was darting about again, using offensive
language.

"She says she will do that to you, Wendy, every time I give you
a thimble."

"But why?"

"Why, Tink?"

Again Tink replied, "You silly ass." Peter could not
understand why, but Wendy understood, and she was just slightly
disappointed when he admitted that he came to the nursery window
not to see her but to listen to stories.

"You see, I don't know any stories. None of the lost boys
knows any stories."

"How perfectly awful," Wendy said.

"Do you know," Peter asked "why swallows build in the eaves of
houses? It is to listen to the stories. O Wendy, your mother
was telling you such a lovely story."

"Which story was it?"

"About the prince who couldn't find the lady who wore the glass
slipper."

"Peter," said Wendy excitedly, "that was Cinderella, and he
found her, and they lived happily ever after."

Peter was so glad that he rose from the floor, where they had
been sitting, and hurried to the window.