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1Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children's minds. It is the nightly custom of every good
2mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into
3their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you
4can't) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like
5tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering
6where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if
7it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and
8evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and on the top,
9beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on. I don't know whether you have ever
10seen a map of a person's mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and your own map can become intensely
11interesting, but catch them trying to draw a map of a child's mind, which is not only confused, but keeps going round
12all the time. There are zigzag lines on it, just like your temperature on a card, and these are probably roads in the
13island, for the Neverland is always more or less an island, with astonishing splashes of colour here and there, and
14coral reefs and rakish-looking craft in the offing, and savages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, and
15caves through which a river runs, and princes with six elder brothers, and a hut fast going to decay, and one very small
16old lady with a hooked nose. It would be an easy map if that were all, but there is also first day at school, religion,
17fathers, the round pond, needle-work, murders, hangings, verbs that take the dative, chocolate pudding day, getting into
18braces, say ninety-nine, three-pence for pulling out your tooth yourself, and so on, and either these are part of the
19island or they are another map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, especially as nothing will stand still.
20Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingoes flying over it at which
21John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat
22turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no
23friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents, but on the whole the Neverlands
24have a family resemblance, and if they stood still in a row you could say of them that they have each other's nose, and
25so forth. On these magic shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can
26still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more. Of all delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest
27and most compact, not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious distances between one adventure and another, but nicely
28crammed. When you play at it by day with the chairs and table-cloth, it is not in the least alarming, but in the two
29minutes before you go to sleep it becomes very real. That is why there are night-lights. Occasionally in her travels
30through her children's minds Mrs. Darling found things she could not understand, and of these quite the most perplexing
31was the word Peter. She knew of no Peter, and yet he was here and there in John and Michael's minds, while Wendy's began
32to be scrawled all over with him. The name stood out in bolder letters than any of the other words, and as Mrs. Darling
33gazed she felt that it had an oddly cocky appearance. "Yes, he is rather cocky," Wendy admitted with regret. Her mother
34had been questioning her. "But who is he, my pet?" "He is Peter Pan, you know, mother." At first Mrs. Darling did not
35know, but after thinking back into her childhood she just remembered a Peter Pan who was said to live with the fairies.
36There were odd stories about him, as that when children died he went part of the way with them, so that they should not
37be frightened. She had believed in him at the time, but now that she was married and full of sense she quite doubted
38whether there was any such person. "Besides," she said to Wendy, "he would be grown up by this time." "Oh no, he isn't
39grown up," Wendy assured her confidently, "and he is just my size." She meant that he was her size in both mind and
40body; she didn't know how she knew, she just knew it. Mrs. Darling consulted Mr. Darling, but he smiled pooh-pooh. "Mark
41my words," he said, "it is some nonsense Nana has been putting into their heads; just the sort of idea a dog would have.
42Leave it alone, and it will blow over." But it would not blow over and soon the troublesome boy gave Mrs. Darling quite
43a shock. Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them. For instance, they may remember to
44mention, a week after the event happened, that when they were in the wood they had met their dead father and had a game
45with him. It was in this casual way that Wendy one morning made a disquieting revelation. Some leaves of a tree had been
46found on the nursery floor, which certainly were not there when the children went to bed, and Mrs. Darling was puzzling
47over them when Wendy said with a tolerant smile: "I do believe it is that Peter again!" "Whatever do you mean, Wendy?"
48"It is so naughty of him not to wipe his feet," Wendy said, sighing. She was a tidy child. She explained in quite a
49matter-of-fact way that she thought Peter sometimes came to the nursery in the night and sat on the foot of her bed and
50played on his pipes to her. Unfortunately she never woke, so she didn't know how she knew, she just knew. "What nonsense
51you talk, precious. No one can get into the house without knocking." "I think he comes in by the window," she said. "My
52love, it is three floors up." "Were not the leaves at the foot of the window, mother?" It was quite true; the leaves had
53been found very near the window. Mrs. Darling did not know what to think, for it all seemed so natural to Wendy that you
54could not dismiss it by saying she had been dreaming. "My child," the mother cried, "why did you not tell me of this
55before?" "I forgot," said Wendy lightly. She was in a hurry to get her breakfast. Oh, surely she must have been
56dreaming. But, on the other hand, there were the leaves. Mrs. Darling examined them very carefully; they were skeleton
57leaves, but she was sure they did not come from any tree that grew in England. She crawled about the floor, peering at
58it with a candle for marks of a strange foot. She rattled the poker up the chimney and tapped the walls. She let down a
59tape from the window to the pavement, and it was a sheer drop of thirty feet, without so much as a spout to climb up by.
60Certainly Wendy had been dreaming. But Wendy had not been dreaming, as the very next night showed, the night on which
61the extraordinary adventures of these children may be said to have begun. On the night we speak of all the children were
62once more in bed. It happened to be Nana's evening off, and Mrs. Darling had bathed them and sung to them till one by
63one they had let go her hand and slid away into the land of sleep. All were looking so safe and cosy that she smiled at
64her fears now and sat down tranquilly by the fire to sew. It was something for Michael, who on his birthday was getting
65into shirts. The fire was warm, however, and the nursery dimly lit by three night-lights, and presently the sewing lay
66on Mrs. Darling's lap. Then her head nodded, oh, so gracefully. She was asleep. Look at the four of them, Wendy and
67Michael over there, John here, and Mrs. Darling by the fire. There should have been a fourth night-light.
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