oorage, and, feeling his way, he buffeted against a
sunken reef that cast him overboard by the greatness of the shock, and
he was near to being drowned, but clambered back into the vessel. There
now arose a mighty storm, accompanied by roaring of waters, such as he
had never heard the like, and he was tossed this way and that, and
his hands so numbed with the cold that he could not close them. Having
escaped the danger of which, he was mercifully carried into a small bay,
where his boat rode at peace.

Nevertheless, he was not yet in safety; for, on pretending to disembark,
he found a multitude of small people drawn up on the shore to contest
his landing, and shouting shrilly to him to be off, for it was long past
Lock-out Time. This, with much brandishing of their holly-leaves, and
also a company of them carried an arrow which some boy had left in the
Gardens, and this they were prepared to use as a battering-ram.

Then Peter, who knew them for the fairies, called out that he was not an
ordinary human and had no desire to do them displeasure, but to be their
friend; nevertheless, having found a jolly harbour, he was in no temper
to draw off therefrom, and he warned them if they sought to mischief him
to stand to their harms.

So saying, he boldly leapt ashore, and they gathered around him with
intent to slay him, but there then arose a great cry among the women,
and it was because they had now observed that his sail was a baby's
night-gown. Whereupon, they straightway loved him, and grieved that
their laps were too small, the which I cannot explain, except by saying
that such is the way of women. The men-fairies now sheathed their
weapons on observing the behaviour of their women, on whose intelligence
they set great store, and they led him civilly to their queen, who
conferred upon him the courtesy of the Gardens after Lock-out Time, and
henceforth Peter could go whither he chose, and the fairies had orders
to put him in comfort.

Such was his first voyage to the Gardens, and you may gather from the
antiquity of the language that it took place a long time ago. But Peter
never grows any older, and if we could be watching for him under the
bridge to-night (but, of course, we can't), I daresay we should see
him hoisting his night-gown and sailing or paddling toward us in the
Thrush's Nest. When he sails, he sits down, but he stands up to paddle.
I shall tell you presently how he got his paddle.

Long before the time