s woke Wendy, and she sat up in bed. She was not alarmed to see a
stranger crying on the nursery floor; she was only pleasantly
interested.

'Boy,' she said courteously, 'why are you crying?'

Peter could be exceedingly polite also, having learned the grand manner
at fairy ceremonies, and he rose and bowed to her beautifully. She was
much pleased, and bowed beautifully to him from the bed.

'What's your name?' he asked.

'Wendy Moira Angela Darling,' she replied with some satisfaction. 'What
is your name?'

'Peter Pan.'

She was already sure that he must be Peter, but it did seem a
comparatively short name.

'Is that all?'

'Yes,' he said rather sharply. He felt for the first time that it was a
shortish name.

'I'm so sorry,' said Wendy Moira Angela.

'It doesn't matter,' Peter gulped.

She asked where he lived.

'Second to the right,' said Peter, 'and then straight on till morning.'

'What a funny address!'

Peter had a sinking. For the first time he felt that perhaps it was a
funny address.

'No, it isn't,' he said.

'I mean,' Wendy said nicely, remembering that she was hostess, 'is that
what they put on the letters?'

He wished she had not mentioned letters.

'Don't get any letters,' he said contemptuously.

'But your mother gets letters?'

'Don't have a mother,' he said. Not only had he no mother, but he had
not the slightest desire to have one. He thought them very overrated
persons. Wendy, however, felt at once that she was in the presence of a
tragedy.

'O Peter, no wonder you were crying,' she said, and got out of bed and
ran to him.

'I wasn't crying about mothers,' he said rather indignantly. 'I was
crying because I can't get my shadow to stick on. Besides, I wasn't
crying.'

'It has come off?'

'Yes.'

Then Wendy saw the shadow on the floor, looking so draggled, and she was
frightfully sorry for Peter. 'How awful!' she said, but she could not
help smiling when she saw that he had been trying to stick it on with
soap. How exactly like a boy!

Fortunately she knew at once what to do 'It must be sewn on,' she said,
just a little patronisingly.

'What's sewn?' he asked.

'You're dreadfully ignorant.'

'No, I'm not.'

But she was exulting in his ignorance. 'I shall sew it on for you, my
little man,' she said, though he was as tall as herself; and she got out
her housewife, and sewed the shadow on to Peter's foot.

'I daresay it will hurt a little,' she warned him.

'