r mouth is full of thimbles, but not so full as my mother's
was.'

Of course he knew nothing whatever about his mother; but he sometimes
bragged about her.

He did not know the tune, which was 'Home, Sweet Home,' but he knew it
was saying, 'Come back, Wendy, Wendy, Wendy'; and he cried exultantly,
'You will never see Wendy again, lady, for the window is barred.'

He peeped in again to see why the music had stopped; and now he saw that
Mrs. Darling had laid her head on the box, and that two tears were
sitting on her eyes.

'She wants me to unbar the window,' thought Peter, 'but I won't, not I.'

He peeped again, and the tears were still there, or another two had
taken their place.

'She's awfully fond of Wendy,' he said to himself. He was angry with her
now for not seeing why she could not have Wendy.

The reason was so simple: 'I'm fond of her too. We can't both have her,
lady.'

But the lady would not make the best of it, and he was unhappy. He
ceased to look at her, but even then she would not let go of him. He
skipped about and made funny faces, but when he stopped it was just as
if she were inside him, knocking.

'Oh, all right,' he said at last, and gulped. Then he unbarred the
window. 'Come on, Tink,' he cried, with a frightful sneer at the laws
of nature; 'we don't want any silly mothers'; and he flew away.

Thus Wendy and John and Michael found the window open for them after
all, which of course was more than they deserved. They alighted on the
floor, quite unashamed of themselves; and the youngest one had already
forgotten his home.

'John,' he said, looking around him doubtfully, 'I think I have been
here before.'

'Of course you have, you silly. There is your old bed.'

'So it is,' Michael said, but not with much conviction.

'I say,' cried John, 'the kennel!' and he dashed across to look into it.

'Perhaps Nana is inside it,' Wendy said.

But John whistled. 'Hullo,' he said, 'there's a man inside it.'

'It's father!' exclaimed Wendy.

'Let me see father,' Michael begged eagerly, and he took a good look.
'He is not so big as the pirate I killed,' he said with such frank
disappointment that I am glad Mr. Darling was asleep; it would have
been sad if those had been the first words he heard his little Michael
say.

Wendy and John had been taken aback somewhat at finding their father in
the kennel.

'Surely,' said John, like one who had lost faith in his memory, 'he used
not to sleep in