We have now reached the evening that was to be known among them
as the Night of Nights, because of its adventures and their
upshot. The day, as if quietly gathering its forces, had been
almost uneventful, and now the redskins in 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 they sat around
the board, guzzling in their greed; and really, what with their
chatter and 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 that Tootles had pushed their elbow. There
was a fixed rule that they must never hit 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.