Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens

by J. M. Barrie

  The Thrush's Nest

  Shelley was a young gentleman and as grown-up as he need ever expect tobe. He was a poet; and they are never exactly grown-up. They are peoplewho despise money except what you need for to-day, and he had all thatand five pounds over. So, when he was walking in the Kensington Gardens,he made a paper boat of his bank-note, and sent it sailing on theSerpentine.

  It reached the island at night: and the look-out brought it to SolomonCaw, who thought at first that it was the usual thing, a message from alady, saying she would be obliged if he could let her have a good one.They always ask for the best one he has, and if he likes the letter hesends one from Class A, but if it ruffles him he sends very funny onesindeed. Sometimes he sends none at all, and at another time he sends anestful; it all depends on the mood you catch him in. He likes you toleave it all to him, and if you mention particularly that you hope hewill see his way to making it a boy this time, he is almost sure to sendanother girl. And whether you are a lady or only a little boy who wantsa baby-sister, always take pains to write your address clearly. Youcan't think what a lot of babies Solomon has sent to the wrong house.

  Shelley's boat, when opened, completely puzzled Solomon, and he tookcounsel of his assistants, who having walked over it twice, first withtheir toes pointed out, and then with their toes pointed in, decidedthat it came from some greedy person who wanted five. They thought thisbecause there was a large five printed on it. "Preposterous!" criedSolomon in a rage, and he presented it to Peter; anything useless whichdrifted upon the island was usually given to Peter as a play-thing.

  But he did not play with his precious bank-note, for he knew what itwas at once, having been very observant during the week when he was anordinary boy. With so much money, he reflected, he could surely at lastcontrive to reach the Gardens, and he considered all the possible ways,and decided (wisely, I think) to choose the best way. But, first, he hadto tell the birds of the value of Shelley's boat; and though they weretoo honest to demand it back, he saw that they were galled, and theycast such black looks at Solomon, who was rather vain of his cleverness,that he flew away to the end of the island, and sat there very depressedwith his head buried in his wings. Now Peter knew that unless Solomonwas on your side, you never got anything done for you in the island, sohe followed him and tried to hearten him.

  Nor was this all that Peter did to pin the powerful old fellow's goodwill. You must know that Solomon had no intention of remaining in officeall his life. He looked forward to retiring by-and-by, and devoting hisgreen old age to a life of pleasure on a certain yew-stump in the Figswhich had taken his fancy, and for years he had been quietly filling hisstocking. It was a stocking belonging to some bathing person which hadbeen cast upon the island, and at the time I speak of it contained ahundred and eighty crumbs, thirty-four nuts, sixteen crusts, a pen-wiperand a bootlace. When his stocking was full, Solomon calculated that hewould be able to retire on a competency. Peter now gave him a pound. Hecut it off his bank-note with a sharp stick.

  This made Solomon his friend for ever, and after the two had consultedtogether they called a meeting of the thrushes. You will see presentlywhy thrushes only were invited.

  The scheme to be put before them was really Peter's, but Solomon didmost of the talking, because he soon became irritable if other peopletalked. He began by saying that he had been much impressed by thesuperior ingenuity shown by the thrushes in nest-building, and thisput them into good-humour at once, as it was meant to do; for all thequarrels between birds are about the best way of building nests. Otherbirds, said Solomon, omitted to line their nests with mud, and as aresult they did not hold water. Here he cocked his head as if he hadused an unanswerable argument; but, unfortunately, a Mrs. Finch had cometo the meeting uninvited, and she squeaked out, "We don't build nests tohold water, but to hold eggs," and then the thrushes stopped cheering,and Solomon was so perplexed that he took several sips of water.

  "Consider," he said at last, "how warm the mud makes the nest."

  "Consider," cried Mrs. Finch, "that when water gets into the nest itremains there and your little ones are drowned."

  The thrushes begged Solomon with a look to say something crushing inreply to this, but again he was perplexed.

  "Try another drink," suggested Mrs. Finch pertly. Kate was her name, andall Kates are saucy.

  Solomon did try another drink, and it inspired him. "If," said he, "afinch's nest is placed on the Serpentine it fills and breaks to pieces,but a thrush's nest is still as dry as the cup of a swan's back."

  How the thrushes applauded! Now they knew why they lined their nestswith mud, and when Mrs. Finch called out, "We don't place our nests onthe Serpentine," they did what they should have done at first: chasedher from the meeting. After this it was most orderly. What they had beenbrought together to hear, said Solomon, was this: their young friend,Peter Pan, as they well knew, wanted very much to be able to cross tothe Gardens, and he now proposed, with their help, to build a boat.

  At this the thrushes began to fidget, which made Peter tremble for hisscheme.

  Solomon explained hastily that what he meant was not one of the cumbrousboats that humans use; the proposed boat was to be simply a thrush'snest large enough to hold Peter.

  But still, to Peter's agony, the thrushes were sulky. "We are very busypeople," they grumbled, "and this would be a big job."

  "Quite so," said Solomon, "and, of course, Peter would not allow youto work for nothing. You must remember that he is now in comfortablecircumstances, and he will pay you such wages as you have never beenpaid before. Peter Pan authorises me to say that you shall all be paidsixpence a day."

  Then all the thrushes hopped for joy, and that very day was begun thecelebrated Building of the Boat. All their ordinary business fell intoarrears. It was the time of year when they should have been pairing, butnot a thrush's nest was built except this big one, and so Solomon soonran short of thrushes with which to supply the demand from the mainland.The stout, rather greedy children, who look so well in perambulatorsbut get puffed easily when they walk, were all young thrushes once, andladies often ask specially for them. What do you think Solomon did? Hesent over to the housetops for a lot of sparrows and ordered them to laytheir eggs in old thrushes' nests and sent their young to the ladies andswore they were all thrushes! It was known afterward on the island asthe Sparrows' Year, and so, when you meet, as you doubtless sometimesdo, grown-up people who puff and blow as if they thought themselvesbigger than they are, very likely they belong to that year. You askthem.

  Peter was a just master, and paid his work-people every evening. Theystood in rows on the branches, waiting politely while he cut the papersixpences out of his bank-note, and presently he called the roll, andthen each bird, as the names were mentioned, flew down and got sixpence.It must have been a fine sight.

  And at last, after months of labor, the boat was finished. Oh, thedeportment of Peter as he saw it growing more and more like a greatthrush's nest! From the very beginning of the building of it he slept byits side, and often woke up to say sweet things to it, and after it waslined with mud and the mud had dried he always slept in it. He sleeps inhis nest still, and has a fascinating way of curling round in it, for itis just large enough to hold him comfortably when he curls round like akitten. It is brown inside, of course, but outside it is mostly green,being woven of grass and twigs, and when these wither or snap the wallsare thatched afresh. There are also a few feathers here and there, whichcame off the thrushes while they were building.

  The other birds were extremely jealous and said that the boat would notbalance on the water, but it lay most beautifully steady; they said thewater would come into it, but no water came into it. Next they said thatPeter had no oars, and this caused the thrushes to look at each otherin dismay, but Peter replied that he had no need of oars, for he had asail, and with such a proud, happy face he produced a sail which he hadfashioned out of this night-gown, and though it was still rather like anight-gown it made a lovely sail.
And that night, the moon being full,and all the birds asleep, he did enter his coracle (as Master FrancisPretty would have said) and depart out of the island. And first, he knewnot why, he looked upward, with his hands clasped, and from that momenthis eyes were pinned to the west.

  He had promised the thrushes to begin by making short voyages, with themto his guides, but far away he saw the Kensington Gardens beckoning tohim beneath the bridge, and he could not wait. His face was flushed, buthe never looked back; there was an exultation in his little breast thatdrove out fear. Was Peter the least gallant of the English mariners whohave sailed westward to meet the Unknown?

  At first, his boat turned round and round, and he was driven back to theplace of his starting, whereupon he shortened sail, by removing one ofthe sleeves, and was forthwith carried backward by a contrary breeze, tohis no small peril. He now let go the sail, with the result that he wasdrifted toward the far shore, where are black shadows he knew not thedangers of, but suspected them, and so once more hoisted his night-gownand went roomer of the shadows until he caught a favouring wind, whichbore him westward, but at so great a speed that he was like to be brokeagainst the bridge. Which, having avoided, he passed under the bridgeand came, to his great rejoicing, within full sight of the delectableGardens. But having tried to cast anchor, which was a stone at the endof a piece of the kite-string, he found no bottom, and was fain to holdoff, seeking for moorage, and, feeling his way, he buffeted against asunken reef that cast him overboard by the greatness of the shock, andhe was near to being drowned, but clambered back into the vessel. Therenow arose a mighty storm, accompanied by roaring of waters, such as hehad never heard the like, and he was tossed this way and that, andhis hands so numbed with the cold that he could not close them. Havingescaped 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 contesthis landing; and shouting shrilly to him to be off, for it was long pastLock-out Time. This, with much brandishing of their holly-leaves, andalso a company of them carried an arrow which some boy had left in theGardens, 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 anordinary human and had no desire to do them displeasure, but to be theirfriend, nevertheless, having found a jolly harbour, he was in no temperto draw off there-from, and he warned them if they sought to mischiefhim to stand to their harms.

  So saying; he boldly leapt ashore, and they gathered around him withintent 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'snight-gown. Whereupon, they straightway loved him, and grieved thattheir laps were too small, the which I cannot explain, except by sayingthat such is the way of women. The men-fairies now sheathed theirweapons on observing the behaviour of their women, on whose intelligencethey set great store, and they led him civilly to their queen, whoconferred upon him the courtesy of the Gardens after Lock-out Time, andhenceforth Peter could go whither he chose, and the fairies had ordersto put him in comfort.

  Such was his first voyage to the Gardens, and you may gather from theantiquity of the language that it took place a long time ago. But Peternever grows any older, and if we could be watching for him under thebridge to-night (but, of course, we can't), I daresay we should seehim hoisting his night-gown and sailing or paddling toward us in theThrush'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 for the opening of the gates comes he steals backto the island, for people must not see him (he is not so human as allthat), but this gives him hours for play, and he plays exactly as realchildren play. At least he thinks so, and it is one of the patheticthings about him that he often plays quite wrongly.

  You see, he had no one to tell him how children really play, for thefairies were all more or less in hiding until dusk, and so know nothing,and though the buds pretended that they could tell him a great deal,when the time for telling came, it was wonderful how little they reallyknew. They told him the truth about hide-and-seek, and he often playsit by himself, but even the ducks on the Round Pond could not explain tohim what it is that makes the pond so fascinating to boys. Every nightthe ducks have forgotten all the events of the day, except the number ofpieces of cake thrown to them. They are gloomy creatures, and say thatcake is not what it was in their young days.

  So Peter had to find out many things for himself. He often played shipsat the Round Pond, but his ship was only a hoop which he had found onthe grass. Of course, he had never seen a hoop, and he wondered whatyou play at with them, and decided that you play at pretending theyare boats. This hoop always sank at once, but he waded in for it, andsometimes he dragged it gleefully round the rim of the pond, and he wasquite proud to think that he had discovered what boys do with hoops.

  Another time, when he found a child's pail, he thought it was forsitting in, and he sat so hard in it that he could scarcely get out ofit. Also he found a balloon. It was bobbing about on the Hump, quite asif it was having a game by itself, and he caught it after an excitingchase. But he thought it was a ball, and Jenny Wren had told him thatboys kick balls, so he kicked it; and after that he could not find itanywhere.

  Perhaps the most surprising thing he found was a perambulator. It wasunder a lime-tree, near the entrance to the Fairy Queen's Winter Palace(which is within the circle of the seven Spanish chestnuts), and Peterapproached it warily, for the birds had never mentioned such things tohim. Lest it was alive, he addressed it politely, and then, as it gaveno answer, he went nearer and felt it cautiously. He gave it a littlepush, and it ran from him, which made him think it must be alive afterall; but, as it had run from him, he was not afraid. So he stretched outhis hand to pull it to him, but this time it ran at him, and he was soalarmed that he leapt the railing and scudded away to his boat. You mustnot think, however, that he was a coward, for he came back next nightwith a crust in one hand and a stick in the other, but the perambulatorhad gone, and he never saw another one. I have promised to tell you alsoabout his paddle. It was a child's spade which he had found near St.Govor's Well, and he thought it was a paddle.

  Do you pity Peter Pan for making these mistakes? If so, I think itrather silly of you. What I mean is that, of course, one must pity himnow and then, but to pity him all the time would be impertinence. Hethought he had the most splendid time in the Gardens, and to think youhave it is almost quite as good as really to have it. He played withoutceasing, while you often waste time by being mad-dog or Mary-Annish. Hecould be neither of these things, for he had never heard of them, but doyou think he is to be pitied for that?

  Oh, he was merry. He was as much merrier than you, for instance, as youare merrier than your father. Sometimes he fell, like a spinning-top,from sheer merriment. Have you seen a greyhound leaping the fences ofthe Gardens? That is how Peter leaps them.

  And think of the music of his pipe. Gentlemen who walk home at nightwrite to the papers to say they heard a nightingale in the Gardens, butit is really Peter's pipe they hear. Of course, he had no mother--atleast, what use was she to him? You can be sorry for him for that, butdon't be too sorry, for the next thing I mean to tell you is how herevisited her. It was the fairies who gave him the chance.