"Oh dear!"

Wendy said, "you see, I feel that is exactly what I
am."

"It is, it is," they all cried; "we saw it at once."

"Very well," she said, "I will do my best. 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."

In they went; I don't know how there was room for them, but you
can squeeze very tight in the Neverland. And that was the first
of the many joyous evenings they had with Wendy. By and by she
tucked them up in the great bed in the home under the trees, but
she herself slept that night in the little house, and Peter kept
watch outside with drawn sword, for the pirates could be heard
carousing far away and the wolves were on the prowl. The little
house looked so cosy and safe in the darkness, with a bright
light showing through its blinds, and the chimney smoking
beautifully, and Peter standing on guard. After a time he fell
asleep, and some unsteady fairies had to climb over him on their
way home from an orgy. Any of the other boys obstructing the
fairy path at night they would have mischiefed, but they just
tweaked Peter's nose and passed on.